#and somehow they were removed from my follower list?????

[secretsinthestarsworld]

tumblr i know we all meme on you being an incompetant website, but honestly it would be nice to *actually* know if you malfunctioned or if it was just a bug

[mayordeas-clone]

ok bizarre, bonkers even, there have been Two tumblr accounts that i KNOW i have been following but then i find out that i wasn’t actually and have to refollow…. for both instances i had to manually go to the page to find this out since i don’t check up on the list of blogs i follow at all.

for one of them i was confused as to why they wouldn’t come up when i searched my list of blogs i followed, then using the main search i found out no they didn’t get banned i was just inexplicably removed from their following, seemingly. and for another i got a “check out these blogs” thingy in my feed and one of the blogs i thought i was following was among them with a follow button instead of a following button

(oh my god that was so many words but you get what i mean)

and again i only found out these two because i was either manually searching for them or just stumbled across it. who knows how many other blogs i’ve been removed from that i haven’t thought to check 😭😭

functioning website 👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻

[livelaughlovesubs]

~ 07.10 - Nikolai ~

Dom!reader x sub!Enemy!nikolai - reader is gender neutral

Warning: sounding, edging, a bit orgasm denial, consent is kinda questionable, hair pulling, dacryphilia, begging, scratching, cum play, cum eating, violence, dick slapping, marking, pinching, bruises, mind break, sub space, teasing, use of pet name ‘good boy’, Nikolai being a masochist

~ Word count: 4.9k ~

Nini!rant: The idea’s from an anon and @me1z0 ! Ty guys~

Kinktober list 2024

The walls were damp, and green moss crept up the corners of the lifeless cell. It was dark and grey, rid of anything interesting, not even a lamp was present in this room. Instead, the light emerged from a huge window on one side of the wall, its weak lighting barely lit up his cell. Other than that, there was a sturdy door along with an equally strong chair. The chair was placed in the middle of this prison out of stone, and on top of it sat a white-haired male who wore tight clothes. His hair was loose and it reached the floor, his hands were tied carefully behind the chair and a grin spread across his lips.

Sounds of footsteps echoed throughout the tranquil room. They were rhythmic, eager, and firm, he could already guess who it was. What followed next was the loud slam of the heavy door. It got yanked open within seconds and a person emerged from the frame, then the passage shut tight again, destroying any chance of escaping. Your eyes scanned his room, eyeing him up and down suspiciously, trying to read his thoughts. That proved to be more difficult than desired since he was still keeping a psychotic expression under such circumstances, not caring about how he was being perceived.

You could basically smell the moisture in the air, how damp and humid it was. It wasn't an exactly pleasant smell, but neither of you seemed to be bothered by it. Slowly you made your way to the center, dragging another chair behind you. With a swift move, you positioned it before him and sat down comfortably, crossing your arms. After waiting for a while, you scoffed, “Not gonna say anything, jester?” He has always been like this. Unpredictable, illogical, and drop-dead annoying.

He laughed, before raising his head to stare at you. His eyes were heterochromia, they somehow appeared creepy, causing you to feel uneasy. “My, I get to have the first word?” Nikolai chirped, looking totally unfazed by the whole situation. “Go ahead, ask away, I can’t guarantee an answer though.” You replied, slumping back against the lean. Finally, after all this time, you managed to catch this clown of a man. It’s not that you failed previously, rather, he kept escaping with his bothersome ability and nullifying handcuffs didn’t seem to work well on him.

But you learned from your mistakes and perfected your plan repeatedly to get to this point. Since he needs his coat to activate it, simply removing it should suffice. On top of it you also had to prevent him from creating a new makeshift coat, hence the tight clothes and lack of sharp objects. “How nice you are, is it because we’ve been acquaintances for so long?” The male chuckled, and you slammed your fist against your chair, cracking it slightly. A few scratches remained on your skin, though you didn't notice the supposed pain. The man thought your vein was going to pop from how tight you bawled your hands.

“Don’t refer to us so intimately.” You snapped then continued with, “You’ve been nothing but a pain in the ass. It seems you don’t have anything important to say. My turn to pose questions.” After threatening him a little, he immediately yelled, “Hey! Don’t be so mean~ We do have a long history after all.” You listened to his complaints, to which you responded, “I’m not proud of that.” A fake sigh left his throat as he winced, “I’m so hurt~ then lemme ask, you wanna play some games before the interrogation?” Again with his unreasonable antics, you could feel your lifespan shortening whenever he opens his mouth.

No normal human would ask something this out of pocket while being interrogated after all, he was a special case in the worst sense possible. Someone deserving of the tightest surveillance for his creative methods. Yet you knew better than to question his motives because there’s simply no logic behind it other than what his twisted mind can come up with.

“No, it’s not the time for games and chitchat. My turn now.” He pouted at your answer, calling you a killjoy under his breath or avoiding your gaze. Such a childish man, how did someone like this get an ability? You furrowed your brows before interrogating him, “Tell me, who do you work for?” Nikolai tilted his head to the side, smiling innocently. “Why don’t you guess?”

Within a fraction of a second, you pulled out a gun and pointed it towards his head. You growled, patience running thin with each passing moment, “I don’t want to repeat myself, jester-” Despite the threat and importance of the situation, he interrupted you, correcting your choice of vocabulary with sarcasm, “Not jester, I’m a clown.” It was obviously just to spite you, look at him playing petty games. The corners of your lips twitched into an intimidating smile, eyebrows raised as you snapped, “Is that so? Then pardon my rudeness.”

He didn’t look nervous, eyes on the muzzle of the gun as he replied, “Such a brute you are, this is no fun at all.” Then the male exaggerated a sigh again, moving his head back to the point you could see the bottom of his chin before he turned back to stare at you, “Fiiiine, I’m a member of a terrorist organization, the decay of angels- or was it the death of angels? I don’t remember~” Nikolai joked, watching you in awe as your anger threatened to boil over. He could swear he saw smoke coming out. Your hand tightened around the weapon, gritting your teeth as you listened to him yap. It was time for the next question, that’s why you asked, “What are your motives?”

“Motives? Each of us has our own reasons. As for mine… don’t you know me well enough to have a hunch?" He taunted, his tone had a layer of mockery hidden behind it and his eyes suggested the same thing. This overconfidence of his was going to be his downfall. “Who can ever know what’s going on inside that brain of yours.” You spit back at him, a fierce look plastered on your face, unwilling to lose. “Are you saying you can’t fathom my thought process?” When he said that, it hit a nerve inside you. Was he calling you stupid?

“Then let’s make it into a quiz! If you can guess about 50% correctly, I’ll tell you everything.” He suggested a guessing game again, and you couldn’t help but click your tongue in annoyance, “Tsk, your iconic quizzes again. What happens if I lose?” The boy squeezed his eyes shut, seemingly deep in thought before chirping, “Absolutely nothing! It’s a win-win situation for you!” That was unexpected, you thought. After much contemplation, you eventually agreed, “Alright, I’ll consider this your last wish.”

You stared at his face, trying to recall all the information you had on him. He was a carefree, reckless, and dangerous man. Words like cold-hearted, crazy, and apathetic could also work. Was there more to him? It was hard to believe there’d be any reason behind his actions, considering the gruesome ways he killed. “You are a sadist who enjoys killing innocent people, which is why you joined a terrorist group. Also, you are a fucking maniac." Despite you outright spitting insults at him, he didn’t stop smiling and stayed calm. But a faint breath of disappointment stuck to his never leaving smirk, as if he was saying ‘told you’.

“Eh ehh, sadly that’s wrong~ I don’t actually enjoy killing people.” He admitted, wearing a sorry look on his face. “Who knows if you are lying or not.” You spat, eying him up and down with a skeptical look. “Do you have sooo little faith in me?” Nikolai tilted his head to one side, giggling and enjoying your baffled expression. “I’ll give you one more chance then, or old times sake!” He said as if he pitied you. Of course, this agitated you, how can he act like he has the upper hand when he’s your prisoner?

“Is someone forcing you? Not that your sentence would lessen.” Since you’ve been presented with another chance, you proposed a different answer but were met with the same response. “Also wrong! No one is forcing me, as I’m striving to achieve true freedom~” The boy sang the last part, like an eccentric, enjoying the situation even. His words or hints, no matter what he said, didn’t make any sense to you.

For you, these were sentences without any connections, or you had too little background knowledge to grasp the concept. Though you knew he wasn't all that dumb, well, to some degree. “Now, guess, how much of it was the truth?” Nikolai announced, a sheepish, amused grin spreading on his lips. How he loves to play mind games and to annoy you. “Now you know why I don’t trust you. You only talk in riddles.” You mumbled under your breath, taking your gun back while his gaze followed the weapon.

Once more, he found it boring how little reaction you had, calling you boring in his mind. “Not gonna kill me anymore?” The white-haired boy asked instead, raising his chin high in the air. “You know the answer.” With a sigh you rolled your eyes, he was smarter than this, he knew his worth as a hostage and source of information. It’d be a waste to have him dead already, and exactly because of these reasons you were annoyed beyond measure. If it wasn’t for the rules and regulations, you’d had his head rolling by now. “Consider yourself lucky.” You scoffed with an eye roll, standing up and walking towards him.

With his curiosity peaked, he waited impatiently, were you finally going to make a move? The uncertainty clutched his racing heart in a tight grip, feelings of unknown origins emerging from the depths of his consciousness. “You are getting excited. I wonder how long you can laugh, clown.” Much to your dismay, his eyes sparkled as he uttered, “Wahhh~ You remembered?! I guess all that time spent with you wasn’t for nothing!” Yeah, you shouldn’t have done him that favor, someone like him didn’t deserve any shred of kindness. He’d only use it against you in the end.

Without listening to him any longer you leaned over, pulling his pants and underwear down only enough to take out his cock. A slight blush crept onto his cheeks, he jerked when you touched his member. “H-huh..? What’s going on?” The tremble in his voice was apparent as his pupils followed your hands, arousal building inside him. This was an unexpected turn of events, was there more to your cold facade-? “Don’t get the wrong idea, it’s a torture method.” You smiled at him, a reassuring smirk dripping with sarcasm.

"Oh? Are you really gonna use such underhanded methods to make me speak?" Nikolai tried to bargain with you, all while doing his utmost to appear unaffected. In the end, he was all about having the act of an unpredictable clown. "No need to get frightened, I'm sure you'll come to enjoy it, considering your personality."

After listening to your prediction, he was almost eager to know what you were going to do, leaning forward to get closer to you. A slight pout on his lips as he thought sharply about what you had in store for him. His binds were uncomfortable and forced him to stay put, causing him to try and break them for a while, before slumping back into his seat, giving up on the idea of escaping. The boy sighed unsatisfied as he mumbled, "Alright, show me what you have in mind."

The two of you may be enemies, and your organization is not all that innocent either, yet you made sure to use enough lube on him. You didn't want to hurt him in that way, it seemed a bit too cruel. Minutes later, you covered his entire lower body with it, bathing his dick in lubricant. Afterward, you pulled out a thin metal rod and smeared it in lube as well. The way his expression twisted the moment he saw your little surprise for him was satisfying, to say the least. How his pupils shrunk ever so slightly and hands gripped the binds tighter, enough to bruise his own wrists, all while a hint of fear or lust built inside him. This was definitely going to be a new experience, one that he won't ever forget.

“Can you guess what I'll do with this?" You asked him, teasingly, to rile him up and make his emotions explode. "You are going to fuck me up with it, aren't cha?" Nikolai grinned widely, sweat dripping down his cheeks while he spread his legs a little further apart to grant you more access. It was also to signalize you that he was ready for it. “Since you know what this is for, I won't need to explain." You commented and held it elegantly as if you knew what you were doing, preparing the tool as well.

His breathing hitched at the sight of it, somehow watching your fingers work so diligently made his heart race. Then you lined the rounded end of the rod with the slit from his dick, slowly pushing the tip inside. On the other hand, Nikolai closed his eyes, biting his lip, and trying his best to not trash around. He could feel the toy stretching him from the inside, poking at places he never explored before.

Small whines escaped his thinly pressed lips, sounding like the painful groan of a hurt animal. "Nghh... d-dammit... ah." The man cursed as you pushed more of it in, cheeks flushed red as his dick got hard, leaking some pearly precum already. You could see the struggle just by looking at his body language, how he trembled and shook, sweating so furiously. A sense of arousal coursed through you at seeing this new, unfamiliar side of his. To think he could pull such an erotic face, watching him try to hold himself back was more than entertaining.

"Can you even take this?" You asked playfully, testing him. His eyes opened just enough to glare at you, squeezing out a 'of course' before going back to his muffled moans. You let him keep his pride for now, and focused on pushing more of the pole in, saying, "Fine, as you wish then." With each millimeter that was entering him, his blush darkened and his voice turned louder. At some point, his eyes became teary and his dumb grin returned. "Hmm!! Uh-uhgghh~ ah.. so rough, h-how much more...?" You could swear you heard some desperation in his voice, licking your lips before answering, "We are halfway there, be a big boy and take it~"

Then you used a little more strength than before to penetrate him, ending with him losing control and screaming your name with such ecstasy, "yyY/NN!! NggGHh~! Ahh it hurts, hurts so m-much ♡♥︎" Even though he was complaining, his expression was a totally different one. He was enjoying it, so much that his cock twitched while leaking twice the amount as before. God, he could swear he almost came in that moment, and he was sure you knew it too. "I didn't expect you to actually enjoy it this so soon." You chuckled, sticking your index finger through the ring at the other end to have a better grip.

The male in front of you was already a twitching mess, gaze unfocused as he stared at his own crotch, watching his dirty fluids seep out of himself. His voice hitched and he gulped loudly, whimpering at the slightest movements, "Nghh~ uh-uhmmf!" You waited until his excessive emotions calmed down a bit, then gave him a quick warning, "M' gonna move now." Before slowly using your finger to pull the rod out of his cock. "W-wait.. aaAAhHHH ♡～"

He threw his head back almost immediately, tongue rolling out while bawling his hands, his grip on the binds were strong enough for his knuckles to turn white. This time he couldn't hold back and trashed his legs around, which is why you put your hand on his soft thighs and pressed down, stopping him. "Don't move now dear, or I might break something I shouldn't." You warned him, pushing the toy back inside him. "MHhhh!! Ah-oohHH, i-is this supposed to be the to-torture?" Nikolai sneered behind broken sobs, those pretty tears finally spilled from his eye sockets.

"Concentrate on not passing out first, or this game will get boring,” you told him, tracing circles on his inner thighs to calm him down. He listened to you with defiance, obviously not happy with your answer. But all those thoughts were pushed aside the moment your hand began moving again. There's only one problem, you were painfully slow. It took so long for you to stick it in or to pull it out. Sure, it was still stimulating, but he needed more than that. He wanted you to be rougher, to really torture him. Oh if only you knew what a- "y/nnn~ please g-go faster? The Pain feels g-good ♡!" ...a masochist he was. Well, now you know.

"Such a perverted slut, boys like you don't get to tell me what to do." You snarled, pushing the whole thing inside again and grabbing his gland with your fingers. Crawling at it with your nails, scratching the skin. "AaaAAAHH..!! Y/n y/n!! H-hurt so much~!" Nikolai let out a scream akin moan, head thrown back and arching his back, all while his charming voice graced your ears. He was very loud, but his whines and sounds of pleasure were adorable, enough to serve as encouragement for you to continue.

"Why don't you stop the joking and tell me everything then, sir Clown?" You teased him, letting go of his dick not due to some pity, but rather because you wanted to try something else. This time, you spun the sounding rod around while it was still placed inside him, rubbing against his urethra and watching his face twist into some erotic expressions straight out of a porno. Eyes rolling back, hair sticking to his forehead and bouncing around, drool running down his chin.

All his blood was coursing to his cheeks or lower abdomen, precum getting everywhere and wetting everything. There was a puddle on the ground beneath him, and it only grew in size. "NGhh~ oOOhh, y/n it f-feels MHh! I-I can't, no m-more, please haaahHH♡♥︎" For a split second you were concerned if you went too far, yet all worries vanished the moment you saw the blissful expression he had. How his tongue hung out like a lewd doggy, figure shaking uncontrollably. "Oh god? Are you sure you want me to stop?" You asked him with raised brows and blatant irony, now changing your actions again. This time you moved it in and out of him as fast as you could, fucking into him, watching his pre gushing out like a fountain whenever it went deep inside him.

"HMnnGGHH..!! Oh- FuuUckkK! Ah-ah, too fast too fassst!!" He was groaning about the speed now, all while crying and shaking in his seat. His toes curled and a thin layer of sweat covered his skin, causing him to shine or glimmer. That once clean silver hair turned slightly dirty at the ends, his chest and ears now turning red as well. He could feel the stimulation coursing through his veins, gnawing at him, intertwining with the pain and being blended into an inseparable mixture. The hurt was turning into arousal, and soon his body, his nerves, and his heart couldn't keep the two apart anymore.

Each time you spat at him, insulted him or were mean, he could feel himself losing a piece of his sanity. "D-don't ghHuu, stop ♥︎, keep going, until m' sa-satisfied..." He was crying now, limps calming down a bit. The boy didn't squirm around as much, keeping a somewhat collected composure while watching you with heart-shaped pupils. "Tsk tsk tsk." You clicked your tongue, shaking your head in opposition at him, sighing as you uttered, "Have you already forgotten what I told you? You have to ask nicely, you don't get to tell me what to do, clown." And just like that, he lost any chances he had to cum.

You stopped moving your hand, or at least went as slow as before. "Ah..! D-damn it.. y/n~ can't you please go faster? I'm so cloooose!" He realized his mistake and decided to not argue too much, this time betting his chances on his puppy eyes. A small pat to his head followed, and then you cupped his cheeks before pinching them.

“How about~ you promise to tell me whatever I want to hear without any games or lies?" You should step up your game and remind yourself of your duty, which is why you proposed it multiple times, hoping he'll agree and obey your command. To push his buttons even more, you added a pinch to his milky thighs and said, "I'll let you cum if you do." Then you stopped doing anything entirely so that his stupid little brain could catch a break to think about your words. He snapped back from his short-lived subspace, staring at you with a dumb, frozen grin. "T-that's hmm~! so sly y/n, so meaan.. haaHhnn..”

"I've made it clear since the beginning, that this is supposed to be torture." You scooped up some of the filthy liquid dripping down his shaft and brought it to his lips, making him lick you clean. He winced at the taste but was obedient enough to just swallow it all. "Now, what will be your answer, clown?" Nikolai thought about it, though this time his thought process got interrupted when you began moving again, leading to him whimpering in full volume, "Ughh.. aAAHhhh.?!! I-i dun- mhm, know..?"

Suddenly you slapped his dick, and he groaned again, "mmMMHh!! Gu-ghHgnnn!! Y/nn~!!" A low sigh left your lips as you pressured him, saying, "You have to decide soon, I don't have all day and I don't mind leaving you like this." His ears perked and he begged for a tad more time, but to his dismay, you didn't listen. "HNg, Wa-wait.. ah..!! Too much, to-too fast mhhh~" With his long-awaited release coming soon and your little threats, the boy was overwhelmed, head spinning and malfunctioning.

It took so long for him to make up his mind, a melting expression on his face as he nodded, whispering meekly, "I-I'll tell you.. p-please, hnngg, lemme cum." That was easy, you thought, smirking at him gently and answering, "Since you agreed to cooperate, cum my little clown ♡" As soon as you finished your sentence, you went down on him again, abusing his red and swollen cock with the little metal pole.

"UHhmmm!! Oh please please pleaaaase, aAAhh! Don't s-stooOop!♡♥︎" He started blabbering without thinking about his words, too far gone to form coherent sentences. The veins on his hands became apparent, eyes unfocused and all fucked out. Knuckles as white as his hair due to his tight grasp on his binds, thighs shaking like they were made out of pudding. Sticky pre flowing down his now bruised thighs. Red dots plagued that area of his skin due to you repeatedly pinching and groping him there.

His toes curled, arch arched so beautifully into a crescent form, and shining fat tears decorated his naturally handsome features. That voice of his has become hoarse at this point, from all the shouting and moans. If only his personality wasn't so annoying, and if only he wasn't your enemy, you would have found him cute, maybe a little attractive as well. With a swift motion, you pulled the sounding rod out of him while wrapping your free hand over his tip, trying to catch as much of his cum as possible.

And god, heavens, the pleasure in that moment was too much for him to handle! His brain had already turned into mush at that point, but now it was even more broken! Chocked out whines and stuttered moans slipping past his filthy lips and he cried out for your name, calling out to you multiple times and begging without any reason, "y/nnnn!! Y/n y-y/nNN! So good, too much AaAHGGgnNn!! Please, I-i beg you please~♡♥︎" A shiver ran down your spine at this sight, this scenery of him being totally wrecked and pathetic. How vulnerable and helpless he was, and so awfully submissive. Who would have guessed he'd have such a lewd and adorable side?

Nikolai felt a knot tightening inside his stomach, it clenched and twisted, about to burst. This strange yet pleasurable feeling gnawing at him, tugging and squeezing him, it was too much, he couldn't ignore it any longer. "NGhHHH, gonna cum!! Cummin' cumminnn'!! I'm- aaAAAhHHHG!♡♥︎～" He yelled one last time, screaming until he choked because he didn't have enough air in his lungs anymore. Coughing violently while more broken noises left him, his voice cracking whenever he went too high.

Thick robes of cum spurt out of him, covering your hand, and running down your palm slowly. That was proof of its disgusting texture, it looked like slime and was still warm. "God you must have been pent up." You joked, watching it drip down your hand for a bit. While most of his semen got caught by your hand, some of it still landed between his legs, on the cement floor.

You gave him a few minutes to calm down from his high, watching his blurry eyes return to life. It took him almost three minutes to snap back to reality, to leave that little subspace he was in. Sweat and tears mingled, making his skin shine. The tips of his bangs were wet and stuck to his forehead, his eyes were half-lidded and swollen from weeping so much.

Once you deemed him conscious enough, you brought your hand over to his lips, ordering him to lick it. "Even if this is a prison, you are not allowed to defile it with your filthy fluids." Then you grabbed his chin, not bothering with his muffled protests, and clasped your hand over his mouth. Now he had no choice but to lick it, and like the little whore he was, he enjoyed it.

His wet and hot muscles moved across your skin, trying to lick up as much as possible to then swallow it. A heavy blush on his cheeks, one that hasn't left since the beginning of your session. You watched him with an amused gaze, saying, "You agreed to tell me everything, right? Otherwise, I might have to edge you even longer." He shivered, shoulder jerking upwards as your little threat. The now somewhat docile boy nodded to show he understood what you said, while his tongue rolled between your fingers. "Good boy. Never thought the day would come when you'd earn that title." You praised him, and a breathy and sarcastic laugh came from you.

Right now, he was still cleaning up the mess he made, frowning a little at the taste, or rather the thick consistency. It caused him to feel sick, but he loved every single second, it was just so arousing, and he could feel himself getting hard again~ in the meantime, you stroked his hair, patting his head, waiting for him to finish patiently. And as soon as he did, you grabbed his hair by the roots and yanked on them. The sudden pull was enough to make the chair trip over, ending with him not even having the time to gasp before landing face-first on the ground.

“Y-y/n???" How baffled he must be, hands still tied without any chances of escape and face now pressed into the mutt. "Clean it up, your mess." You muttered, finally letting go of him. Then you sat down on the chair you brought with you, arms crossed over your chest once more, this time wearing a relaxed expression, looking at him from above. The subtle power struggles made his heart flutter, blood rushing to his lower part again. He stared at you wide-eyed, then turned to look at the ground, seeing some drops of his white cum splattered there.

A low whine escaped his throat before he lowered himself, sticking his tongue out and licking it from the dirty ground. It was a bitter and unpleasant taste, he could feel the sand crunching and his stomach rejecting it. Yet he persisted, swallowing all of it and showing you his tongue after every gulp, to prove to you he did it. Nikolai could hear your light chuckles and see that content smile, he tried his best to position himself steadily and looked up at you.

What met your gaze was the face of a fanatic pervert who enjoyed every second spent to the fullest. Eyes bore that familiar haze, sweat still soaking his skin and body twitching with each word he voiced out. He used a meek yet lustful voice as he whispered with his remaining strength, "Like seeing me be your 'good boy'?"

Tags: @showtime-ss @thisisnotangel @ghostgoosygoose @i-dont-fooken-know @chuuya-brainrot @allyfoxglove @thigh-o-saur @fallenthemisticalyingyang @fem-dom-roze

Nini!rant 2.0:

Since I didn’t research anything for this one let’s talk about HIV (idk man)

Hiv is a virus, and it’s often mistaken for aids. Now let’s see, what are the differences between the two?

First, hiv is not the same as aids, though it can become aids over a long time (after ca. 10 years). While it’s developing, it doesn’t have any visible effects except when you get infected with it. Cuz then you’ll get symptoms akin to the flu, or about a week or two, and because it’s identical to the flu, many people get hiv without knowing.

Even though there is no cure for hiv, it can be neutralised with medicine. There are also tests you can buy to see if you have it, but it’s still the best if you do a check up. And the great thing is, if your body takes the treatment well and if you also eat according to your then given diet (by your doctor) it won’t develop into aids. Instead, it will just be a virus that lives with you and does nothing. Like, you won’t even be infectious to other people and can have kids or live long.

The only downside is the repression medicine makes your body weak, so it’s easier for one to catch illnesses or have the symptoms stronger than the average.

Anyway, people with hiv who are undergoing treatment are safe, there is no harm in engaging in intercourse with them since they aren’t infectious. Also from what I’ve heard, they do check-ups every month to see if the medicine works so rest assured.

[purplestanleypinkblanket]

Forgive Me, Moonlit Solace (2):

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: After getting captured by the witches, the boys find themselves helpless as they watch the reader be subjected to a ritual.

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: Graphic violence mentions of blood, body horror (reader's body is transformed), emotional trauma, childhood trauma mentions (will be a different color to signify when it starts and ends), minor blood and gore, dark magic / occult themes (witches, ritual), reader is subjected to a ritual, strong language, loss of control / identity crisis, Dean comforts reader, kidnapping, unwanted touch (witch taunting reader), reader experiences minor memory loss.

Genre: Dark fantasy, supernatural horror, action / adventure, angst.

Word Count: 2,218

Master list: Coming Soon!

"Don't touch her!" Dean's voice roared, soon followed by the sound of shuffling as he grunted in pain.

"Shut up." A voice you didn't recognize demanded; it was soft, breathy.

"She's awake." The voice of the witch you had met called out. You could feel her hand's wiping the tears off your face, a soft tut from her lips. "Your little friend here sure is protective, isn't he? Knocked out about half my coven when he realized we had you." Her head tilted to the side, a ghost of a smile on her lips. You could hear Dean shouting, but his voice was muffled as if they had covered his mouth.

"Where is he?" You murmured, voice dangerous as you shook your head from her hand. "What did you do to him? To Sam?" Your eyes opened, struggling to gain sight as you looked at the brunette witch angrily. Her eyes brightened as you looked at her, smug smile widening, as if you finally looking at her made the situation so much more worth it. 

"Relax," she murmured, her grip tightening on your chin as though testing your resolve. The chill of her fingers felt deadly. "I haven’t touched them. My friends, though..." Her tone was sickly sweet.

You fought to pull your head away, a growl of rage building in your throat. Her nails dug into your chin, pain shot through your jaw, but it was nothing compared to the helplessness gripping your chest. All you wanted to do was get out, to rush to Dean, to help him.

You could feel the tight ropes around your form cut into your flesh as you struggled. Jaw clenching in pain, you looked around, finally noticing the small coven of witches surrounding you. They had strapped you to a tree, ashes surrounding the area you were restrained in. It looked as if you were in a forest, the few torches held by some of the witches illuminated the area. The light revealed that they had removed any trees from beside you, the spot seemed naked compared to the dense forest surrounding you.

Somehow, they had positioned you to be hit by rays of moonlight, your eyes narrowing as you took in each witch. Two with brown hair, one blonde, one red head, and another with...you frowned, was that blue hair? You had heard stories about women with blue hair, so you made sure to constantly check her position. Just to be safe.

"Sweetheart." Dean spoke, voice muffled. You could barely understand him.

"You alright?" Sam called out to you. He sounded close, like he was behind you. Despite how you tossed and turned against the stinging rope around you, it gave no leeway. With a sigh, you surrendered that you wouldn't be able to see your friends.

"I'm fine. What about you two?"

"We're fine, took a little bit of a beating." Sam contributed, trying to provide some form of reassurance that they were alright.

"Yes, yes. They're alright." The brunette witch who stood beside you cooed out. She stepped in front of you, a predatory smile on her lips as she cupped your face. "You and I, my dear, are going to be great friends." You tried to rip your head from her grasp, but her hand held you tight, her nails digging into your flesh. Snapping her fingers, she held her other hand out, beckoning the red-haired witch who held a small stone bowl.

Rushing forward, the red-haired woman hesitantly stepped into the circle, extending the bowl of dark red liquid to the one who held your face. Releasing you with an aggressive shake of your chin, she dipped her hand into the red liquid. Her freehand reached down, ripping your sweater neck just enough to reveal your collarbones.

"Sorry about that, my dear." The woman half-heartedly apologized, clearly not caring that she ripped your favorite hoodie. The way she talked to you was too sweet, too predatory. It was like she imagined you two to be close friends. In reality, you were a stranger she had kidnapped. You tried to struggle, to get away, legs kicking against the tree. Despite your thrashing, the ropes held you in place as she slid her red painted thumb along the center of your collarbone and upper sternum bone. You looked down, watching as she painted a crescent moon into your skin. It burned, why in hell did it burn? It felt like the liquid was seeping into your skin, into your soul.

You could hear the rustling of Dean against his own ropes as the witch touched you, withdrawing her hand with a satisfied hum. The metallic smell of the liquid wafted to your nose, clearly having been exposed to air. You recognized the scent as blood.

"We've aged this one for as long as we could." The brunette witch chuckled as she withdrew her hand. "If we knew someone as.... miraculous... as you would be coming to town, we would've prepped better." She cooed to you, a pleased look in her eye as she looked over you. In this moment, you felt like a deer she was hunting.

"What are you talking about?" You scoffed, watching as she reached into her back pocket. You weren't anything, you were just…you. 

"Oh, don't play dumb." The witch laughed, eye’s narrowing in disapproval. "I feel the anger buried deep down in you. You're such an angry soul, my dear. That's what we've been looking for-" She pulled out a dark stone blade, a stone you recognized as Obsidian. You had only ever seen an obsidian-based blade once. Dean had been telling you about his time in purgatory one evening and he had pulled it out, letting you hold it as he described what he experienced.

You tensed as she brought it to your skin, gently tracing your jaw with a grin. "All we need is for you to cry, my dear."

You snorted, remaining strong as you glared at her. "Oh, fuck off. Damn fuckin-" The sound of Dean grunting as someone slapped him interrupted you. Instantly, you thrashed around, your body responding. You had to get out, to help him. You didn't know what they were planning, you like hell you’d let Dean get hurt because of you.

With a sigh at the lack of tears in your eyes, the brunette-haired woman shook her head. "Have it your way." Her hands rose to the sky, the other witches followed her actions, stepping away to create distance between them and the ash circle that surrounded you.

"By blood betrayed and moon's cold light," the coven of witches chanted, gaze on the moon. "We call forth fury, endless night." The searing pain in your limbs you had forgotten about returned. This time, however, it wasn't just pain. Your limbs felt as if they were growing, the ropes digging into your skin failed to provide leeway for you. They tore into your skin, forcing your growing limbs to remain in place. Your head fell back against the tree in pain, teeth clenched as your mind fell blank. The only thing you could focus on was the growing and twisting of your limbs.

"Ash to flesh, beast to bone." Pained tears sprung to your eyes as you felt your nails fuse with your fingers, extending longer than they should've. The brunette witch reached up, wiping the tears of your pain away as she ran the blade into a spot above your collarbone, drawing a small amount of blood. Mixing her thumb stained with your tears into the cut, she stepped away, joining the other witches outside the ash circle.

"Let rage consume and claim her throne. Under the moon, her wrath ignites. Transform her soul to wraith of night." You felt the anger you fought so hard to repress and ignore bubble to the surface, sweat coating your face as your mouth fell open, releasing a deep, pained shout that echoed into a high-pitched scream. A scream humans shouldn’t be able to make. 

......

Everything stilled around you, eyes slammed shut from pain. It no longer felt like you were in the stability of the forest. The floor beneath you was gone and your body felt as if it was floating in nothingness. When relief finally came to the pain you endured, you opened your eyes. You expected to see witches, to see forest. However, in front of your eyes was nothing but pure darkness. The feeling of being trapped resided deep within you despite how the darkness looked never ending. You were almost certain that if you started walking in one direction, you'd never reach the end. 

"Hello?" You called out, taking a hesitant step. Surprise flooded you as you realized you were no longer restrained, the tree you had been held against was gone. "Dean?"

Soft sniffling filled the area, the sound of someone crying caught your attention. With an unsure stride, you moved forward until you found a young girl, most likely early teens, huddled in on herself as she cried. You watched her for the second, a slight sense of recognition filling even though you haven't seen her face. Something about her attire was just so familiar. With a hesitant inhale, you moved closer, dropping to your knee as you extended a hand towards her. 

"Are you alright?" You asked her, voice sincere. Your hand landed on her back, gently directing her to look at you.

The girl didn't respond, her eyes meeting yours as tears streamed down her face. Soon, you found yourself crying as well. Your eyes widened in shock as you stumbled back. This...she...what the hell was going on? Your hand rose to your face, wiping away a stream of tears. Her eye color, her face, her hair, everything. She looked exactly like you.

"Was it my fault?" She asked, and, within the blink of an eye, you were the one huddled in on yourself, crying as you held your legs to your chest. The girl was gone and now it was only you.

......

"Sweetheart," Dean's voice called to you, drawing you back into the world. You could feel the hard ground of the forest under your legs as well as the sound of bird's chirping. You could feel the warmth of his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close as your eyes slowly refocused, tears streaming down your face as you looked at him. After a minute, you could finally make out the features of his face. Pain evident in his expression as well as relief. He lifted a hand to your face, cupping your cheek. "There you are." He murmured, green eyes focused on you. His face was coated in bruises and splotches of blood scrunched, when on earth had he gotten hurt that badly? His eyebrows were scrunched in concern as he looked over you. Your limbs still ached; your fingers felt as if they were jammed. The pastel dawn light of the morning caught your attention, how long had you been out? Your face hurt like hell, specifically your jaw. It felt as if you had overused it. 

"What...?" You asked, voice hoarse as if you had been screaming the entire night. "What happened?" You croaked out, tears still streaming down your face. "Where's Sam?" You asked, growing concerned as you tried to look around.

Blood.

Blood coated the trees, the floor. The only sign the witches had ever been there were the clawed remains of them. Oh, God. What had happened? Before you could get a better look, before you could see what really happened, Dean pulled your face back, forcing you to look at him.

"Don't worry about what happened." Dean told you, keeping your gaze on him as you felt a pit in your stomach. Deep down, you knew what had happened. You were no longer tied to the tree and the witches…the women…were dead. "Sam's alright. He went to fetch baby."

You sucked in a shuddering breath, glancing down at your blood-soaked hands. What have you done? Tears sprung to your eyes. They spoke of anguish, pain, regret. Regret for something you had no recollection of committing but felt you had done. The lingering stinging from your limbs growing remained in your joints, even if they were back to their normal size. You had no recollection of that night and that terrified you. Your body was heavy, exhausted. It wanted to shut down on you, to rest. 

"Dean..." You started, voice cracking as a sob wracked your body, "What did I do?"

"Nothing." He countered, "You didn't do anything." He pulled you close, letting you bury your face into his chest as you cried. It was a lie; Dean knew it was. The memory of your disfigured form ripping witch after witch apart ghosted his mind.  Whatever those bitches had turned you into. That wasn't you. He refused to let you think this was your fault, that...he sighed softly, burying his chin against your head as he ran a hand soothingly along your back. Dean recalled the claws you had adorned, the boney elongated limbs that cracked and snapped with every movement you had made. The hollowness to your face.

His arms tightened around you in relief, he was glad to have you back. Even if it meant a claw wound to the abdomen.

"I've got you." He murmured, grip tightening. Dean frowned, unsure of what to say. Could he really have made the situation better just by saying something? Part of him said yes, that all you needed was a good joke. You loved jokes. However, he knew this was something that a joke wouldn't fix.

[petrichor-writings]

ＬＡＣＥ (18+)

toji fushiguro x fem!reader

warnings : smut, slightly controlling toji, non-sorcerer au, oral sex (both receiving), implied age gap, fingering, edging, unprotected sex, using a lace ribbon as hand restraints, the use of the word "mamas" and "ma", toji's thighs are fucking huge, so are his hands, innocence kink, daddy kink, lowkey breeding kink, dumbification kink, dacryphilia, toji is a tease, couch sex, author can't be bothered with proper capitalisation so it's in lowercase.

wc: 2.2k

ao3 link

(a/n): haven't written smut in a WHILE and as my first post on this account i hope it's not too terrible loll

the bow had been a mid-day addition to your outfit. a simple piece of  lace you had seen at the craft store that matched your outfit perfectly, and somehow doubled the innocent angel vibe that your outfit gave off. which is why when you came back to your shared apartment wearing the delicate white lace in your hair you nearly gave toji a heart-attack. 

of course, you couldn’t tell that toji was basically going into cardiac arrest on the couch, as he was still rather stoic. the only real indication of his internal struggle were his narrowed gaze, now tracking you across the room, and the slight crunch of the metal beer can in his now tightened grasp. it wasn’t until the older man opened his mouth that you realised what you were in for. 

“what’s that you got there mamas?” his voice was low borderline growling. 

“what toji? the shopping? it’s the grocery’s you wanted and the stuff from the craft store!” you responded with a smile, trying to feign innocence. 

“mmmm.” toji said, setting down his beer and beckoning you over. “thats not what i meant. and i think you know that.”  

you now stood in front of him, in between his spread legs, trying to still feign innocence in the situation. he smiled but it was more of a smirk, his eyes darkening as he removed the shopping bags from your hands and set them on the coffee table to his left. 

your cheeks began to warm as his large hands found your hips and dragged you into him, now having you straddle him on the couch, the evidence of his arousal pressed against you. one of his hands kept you in place, a silent warning to not move as the other reached up and untied the bow from around your hair. 

“still don’t know what im talking about?” he grinned as he dangled the strip of lace in front of your face. “i don’t remember seein’ this in your outfit this morning. which means it wasn’t approved, was it?”

“oh… that.” you couldn’t deny it now, not with the evidence of your rule breaking right in front of your face, grasped in between toji’s thick fingers. “m’sorry” you said eyes struggling to meet toji’s. 

“what're we sorry for mamas? let’s be specific huh?” he asked, the hand on your hip moving to your thigh, kneading the thick flesh there. 

“m’sorry for not following the rules, for not getting it approved by you before adding it to my outfit.” you mumbled, sheepishly meeting his eyes. 

“mmm that's a good apology baby, but what happens to pretty little girls who break the rules?” he cocked his head to the side, looking at you expectantly.

“we get punished.” your voice was a whisper now and toji’s grip on your thigh had become bruising.

“that’’s right!” the grin coupled with the menacing look in toji’s eyes simultaneously unsettled you and aroused you. and you knew he knew, you knew that he could feel the wetness pooling in the white lace panties that he had picked that morning, just below the little pink denim shorts he had also picked. 

"now… what punishment to choose is the question…" toji's voice trailed off in thought, the gears turning in his mind as he looked mischievously between the lace still clutched in his hand and your face. 

"sweater off and wrists out baby." he said, all but growling in excitement. "no touching for today." 

you whined in protest as you offered your wrists to the man, "but-".

"no buts. or else we'll add no cumming to that list. in fact you should be grateful you're even gonna get to cum today, after breaking my rules. how 'bout a thank you, lil ma?" 

"thank you daddyyyy." you said, dragging out the y in the word as he tied the lace tightly around your wrists in makeshift handcuffs. 

"mmm, that's what i like to hear." toji smirked, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before lifting you off his lap and onto the floor in between his thick thighs. slowly he pushed down his sweats, revealing his hardened cock, the tip an angry red and leaking. "you know what to do ma, but remember no touching. or else you really won't like what happens." 

the older man gripped the base, holding it in place as you placed small kisses along the shaft, working your way up to the tip, licking the beads of precum off his skin before taking him into your mouth. his hands retracted from himself before they threaded into your hair and slowly you bobbed your head up and down, trying to take him in further with each movement. 

"just like that baby…" toji says with a small groan, breathing getting heavier with every movement of your mouth around him. you smile internally as you let your own moan reverberate through your body, the vibrations around his dick sending waves of pleasure through toji. 

you can tell he's nearing his release, his deep moans and groans becoming more frequent and his cock twitching in your throat. suddenly the hands that were loosely threaded in your hair become rigid and he pulls you off of him with a pop. 

"as nice as that feels, the only place i'm cumming tonight is in that pretty little pussy of yours." toji releases your hair but grasps your bound wrists, using the lace to guide you back onto the couch as he slots himself between your thighs. 

slowly the man runs his hands across your thighs, working them up your hips before his fingers find the button of your shorts, peeling them off of your body and chucking them haphazardly across the living room of the apartment. his fingers find you again and he locks his gaze with yours, smirking as he lazily strokes your core gently through the white lace of your underwear. 

this goes on for a few moments before you finally whine in annoyance, grinding yourself down further into his hand. "please toji, need it so bad." 

"aww do you need somethin' there mamas? if you do use your words like i taught you." he responded, fingers teasing the edge of the cloth covering your now drenched cunt.

"please toji, need your fingers, mouth anythin', pleaseeee." you half begged, half moaned.

"well, since you asked so nicely." toji's finger curled around the edge of the white lace at the crotch, tugging the material down your thighs and legs, discarding it to join your shorts elsewhere in the room. 

slowly he sank one of his long thick fingers into you, mouth moving to capture yours as he did so, swallowing the moan that you released at the intrusion. he broke the kiss as he began to pump the digit in and out of you, adding a second and relishing in the mewl that escaped your lips before working his mouth back down your naked body, licking and kissing and bruising the flesh that was fortunate enough to come in contact with his mouth. 

when he had reached three fingers inside of you he could feel your orgasm rapidly approaching. most of the time he could tell it was coming before you did, knowing the subtle signs your body let off like the back of his hand, but he waited until it was clear you knew your release was approaching, face contorting in pleasure as you felt the knot in your stomach heat and curl, waiting to snap, before completely stopping his movements and retracting his hand altogether. 

your eyes snapped open as you felt your orgasm get ripped away from you, looking down at the devilish green eyes staring back at you. your arms flexed instinctively and toji gave you a sharp look as your hands moved, a silent reminder of your punishment.

"daddy please, please you said i was still allowed to cum." you frowned, eyes welling up with tears as you looked at the stoic man below you.

"you will mamas, i promise, just not yet, okay?" you nod enthusiastically at his response and let out a squeak as he returns a finger back to your dripping and needy hole without warning. 

he works your hole faster this time, second and third fingers joining fairly quickly before dropping his mouth to your fleshy thighs, still pumping his fingers into you, curling his fingers to hit that squishy spot inside of you, but now also pressing hot open mouthed kisses along your skin. 

he quickly makes his way to the apex of your thighs, before latching his mouth to your clit, gently teasing the nub. as you whine and moan and twitch above him toji removes his fingers once more, immediately replacing them with his mouth and tongue, eating you out like a man starved as his fingers take up the job of stimulating your sensitive clit, tracing delicate circles into it. 

you reach your high faster this time, and same as before toji rips himself away from your core just seconds before you can get there. you're crying at this point and toji smiles a little, relishing in the fact that you're so desperate for the pleasure that only he can provide you, you'd allow yourself to cry over not getting it. 

"you taste so sweet baby, too sweet to be crying." he lifts himself from the ground, licking the rest of your slick from his lips and fingers before leaning over you and carefully kissing away the tears that rolled down your cheeks. 

"jus' wanna cum daddyyyy" you sob, breathing shallow as your hole clenches around nothing, longing for your boyfriend to give you any sense of relief. 

"you will baby, jus' wanted you to wait until i was inside, wanted you to cream on my cock, is that so much to ask?" he asks with faux sadness, lining up his still rigid cock with your slick covered entrance. 

"no toji, s'not too much." you keened, tears still falling as the older man pushed himself all the way into you.

"still so tight babygirl, gripping me like a fuckin' virgin." toji groaned, head dropping to the crook of your neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses along your neck contrasting the brutal pace he set as he began to thrust into you.

as toji had his way with your body, cock hitting all the right spots with that perfectly rough yet pleasurable pace, lips kissing along the column of your throat and hands leaving bruises across your waist and hips, the urge to touch him grew, and your hands started twitching above you, tears falling more rapidly from your eyes. 

"please, please toji-" you cried, breath hitching as the tip of toji's cock bumped your cervix, "please wan' touch you so bad, please." the sobs were wracking your body now, mixing with twitches from the stimulation toji was providing everywhere across your body, creating a sweet melody for the black haired man. 

"sorry baby, but i gotta stick by the punishment-" he groaned, hips beginning to stutter as he neared his high, "else you'd jus' go 'round breakin' all my rules." 

"no- no- toji, 'd be s'good, a good girl" your protests devolved quickly into incoherent babbling and pleasured noises, as one of toji's hands released from your waist and starting circling your overstimulated clit. 

"you gonna cum for daddy soon mamas?" toji questioned, smirking as your fucked out brain lost any ability to speak, instead whimpreing and moaning in response. "aww you too fucked out and dumb to give a proper response?" he asked, only getting another whimper in response.

"s'ok, s'good, we're gonna cum together and who knows maybe i'll actually fuck a baby into ya, make you a real ma."

the sentiment sent you over the edge and you smiled, drool pooling onto the couch cushion as the coil in your stomach finally snapped. white hot pleasure firing through your half limp body. toji pounded into you, fucking you through your high, but each thrust became sloppier and less rhythmic than the last, before his hips faltered and stopped, cock pumping you full as your cunt clenched hard around him, pussy subconsciously milking the man for every last drop of his seed. 

with an unceremonious sigh, toji pulled out of you, watching for a moment as the mixture of your releases dribbled out of your used hole, before grabbing a wet wipe from the coffee table, (that you kept there for this exact reason), and carefully wiping you down and then sitting back down on the couch beside you, dropping the wipe onto the table with the long forgotten beer. 

"mmm c'mere, lemme undo those hands of yours." toji said, pulling you back into his lap, carefully undoing the lace before pressing soft kisses to your slightly red and raw wrists. "i hope you know we're doing this again 'n i'll buy you as many of these pretty little hair ribbons as you can find."

"mmm sounds good 'ji, love you" you said, pressing sleepy little kisses to his throat, his lips and lastly the scar on his lips before passing out into a fucked out slumber on your boyfriends chest. 

[sitp-recs]

i bet you've seen this one plenty of times before, but:

can you rec some drarry fics where jealousy is an important motif? it can be infidelity if they're an established couple, or just getting with someone else while the two of them are dancing around one another. would be great to see recs both where harry is jealous and where draco is jealous. i prefer a happy ending, but i'll be grateful either way.

since i'm here let me also say i admire what you do, your incredible ability to recall and sort through so many stories. this fandom is lucky to have you! <3

Hello friend! Thank you for the kind words, I really appreciate it ❤️ here are some fics centered on jealousy. I did a few other lists for this trope over the years, you can find them here, here and here.

Jealous Harry:

Hourglass Heart by @bixgirl1 (E, 5k)

It only happened once — depending on how Harry counted.

Utterly Yours by @lazywonderlvnd (E, 6.5k)

Draco gets back at Harry for his late nights as an Auror by flirting with the new Arithmancy professor. Harry's not usually the jealous type, but he has his moments.

Intention by @the-sinking-ship (E, 7k)

Harry really ought to listen to whatever Ron is saying, but it becomes impossible to focus when a familiar figure across the pub curls his fingers around another man’s tie. And when that man leans in with a wolfish smile, Harry sees red, and all he can think is mine.

on the divine agony of longing by @flimsi (E, 25k)

Speaking to Draco is like poking a beehive - and Harry is a glutton for punishment. In which Harry makes some serious blunders and then tries to fix it. Somehow.

Around You Moves by ignatiustrout (E, 29k)

Harry knew Draco was gay when he invited him to move in. He’s never had a problem with this. So why does he feel so weird about Draco bringing men home all of a sudden?

Two to Lie and One to Listen by @fluxweeed (E, 84k)

It’s weird when Hermione announces that she and Ron have broken up. It’s weirder when this is followed by the revelation that she’s already moved on—and the new object of her affections is Draco Malfoy.

this heaven of mud by @garagepaperback (E, 94k)

A love story told in two somewhat unreliable parts, over six years. Featuring secret shagging, to friends, to the 'how is it fair for someone to say your name like that' sort of friends, to, finally, someone you could call a home.

Grounds for Divorce by Tepre (E, 122k)

Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter.

Jealous Draco:

Packing the Flat by marguerite_26 (E, 6k)

Months after their explosive break-up, Draco insists Harry return to their flat to remove his belongings.

Don't Stop It Before It Begins by mischieviolet (E, 19k)

“I don’t understand how this is of any concern to you, Malfoy,” Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest. Draco blinked at the use of his last name, something that Harry only used with him in jest these days. “I’m merely spending time with my Auror partner, who is from another country, and has no one here. I would do the same if it were you.” “It’s not me though, is it?” Draco all but shouted, unable to stop himself.

The Partner, The Rival and The Very Big Case by oceaxe (E, 24k)

When Harry and Nott are paired up to go undercover as fake boyfriends, Draco is disappointed not to get the assignment. It's just professional jealousy that's making him feel so upset. Obviously. He's engaged to be married to Astoria, after all.

(The Piece) I was Missing All Along by lauren3210 (E, 30k)

Draco and Harry have been flatmates and best friends for years, and Draco thinks life is just perfect that way. But when something comes along and threatens to take all that away, Draco has to decide what it is he really wants, and just how hard he's going to work to get it.

Make Me a Headline (I Want to Be That Bold) by @dictacontrion (E, 31k)

Draco never expected to see Harry doing that again. Especially with someone else, in a grainy photograph that's landed on his desk one Monday morning.

Nights With You by @the-sinking-ship (E, 58k)

Draco is mortified when moments prior to departing for the most anticipated destination wedding of the year, he is cruelly dumped. But when he learns that Harry Potter has, at long last, split with his horrible boyfriend, Draco is certain his luck has changed.

[be-missed]

Bad for Business

Jenna Ortega X Fem!Reader

(picture not mine)

Summary: After receiving a text message from her manager, what would Jenna do? Will she and Y/N can still fix their friendship?

Warning/s: curse words.

A/N: Part 3, thanks for waiting, noticed you liked this one. Emma Myers is the Emma. Also, give me a name for Y/N's best friend, please.

Masterlist

Cool About It (Part 1) | Nothing To Lose (Part 2)

______________________________________________________________

Jenna is currently sitting on the sofa on her manager's office.

"What is your problem Jenna? You have invited a big crowd and thank heavens we don't need to delete much picture from the both of you because they were so surprised from what you did. We only have a few twitter and tiktok accounts that still post what happened." Jenna's manager told her as he seats in front of the girl.

"I'm sorry..."

The only words that came out from Jenna's mouth ever since she was brought by her manager from Y/N's unit to the office, because inside her head, she goes back to the moment where Y/N admitted her feelings. She could've react differently instead of being silent, she could've agreed to Y/N and talk to her, or maybe she can kiss Y/N to prove that she also wants to kiss the girl, or maybe just maybe, she doesn't pull the shit from the park and just watched a movie.

There are so many 'what if's' and 'could've been' that's running inside Jenna's mind not until the voice of her manager removed her from her thoughts.

"Do you understand? We just need you to follow what we said and we will be alright" Jenna's manager said and looked at her intently, looking like he will never take a no for an answer.

Jenna then just nodded her head and quietly said "yes."

Jenna's team was now fixing the table and the papers that were scattered on the table not until Jenna broke the chaos "Please don't contact Y/N anymore. I don't need you in her business." She said and looked intently to her team, and directed it to her manager.

A long pause was given, half-heartedly, her manager nodded. That made Jenna feal at ease somehow, because she doesn't want Y/N to get stress about this issue, it is all her fault anyway.

Even though Jenna doesn't quite remember what are the rules that her manager and her team gave her, she just go with it, because it's normally lesser public appearance, lesser use of her social media, and sadly, lesser meet-ups with Y/N. She thinks she can handle it, because in a few week, she'll be back to filming Wednesday S2 and just will be facetiming Y/N. If Y/N will answer, she thinks.

---

Jenna was now in her bedroom, tired after the long night that she had. Fumbling with her phone, thinking if she should text Y/N and ask her about what happened, Jenna was pulled out from her thoughts by a facetime call, it is Emma.

"I WAS RIGHT" Emma said, "I WAS RIGHT YOU LIED TO ME, HOW COULD YOU?"

Jenna was stunned because what the fuck is Emma talking about, she have no idea, "What are you talking about?" Jenna asked with full curiosity.

"You and your long time friend who owns the coffee shop inside the studio is dating!" Emma exclaimed like stating the truth, Jenna then replied "No, no, what do you mean?"

"Like bestie, your proposal in the lake is all over the internet right now, I should congratulate you, or not I guess" Emma stated as she started to send screenshots to Jenna from twitter to tiktok. Jenna then shakes her head "No, this can't be, my team deleted all the pictures and articles about this." Jenna was slightly panicking because she thought that her team have deleted any pictures and articles from the proposal.

"I'll call you later I promise, bye" Jenna ended the call without giving Emma a chance to reply and reactivated her twitter account just to see what Emma is talking about, and the other girl was right, the both of you are trending.

In her search list, the words that was associated to the both of you are I knew it, dumbass, and Her loss.

She saw tweets like stating that they knew it from the start that Jenna and Y/N was in a relationship, another tweet said that Y/N was dumb to reject Jenna, and some were begging Jenna that if she proposed to them they will say 'yes'. But Jenna thought, they are not Y/N, they are not the person that she likes.

After opening Twitter, she went straight to tiktok and search her name, which is probably not the right thing to do but she wants to see what people say to you, the last thing that she wants is for the general public to hate you and blame you.

And with that, almost all of the videos of Jenna and Y/N are edited with the song Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift. Captions in the videos are quoting the lyrics from "You won't remember all her Champagne Problems" to "I can patch up the tapestry that she shred." She also saw some comments in the video saying "she's fucked in the head" pertaining to Y/N.

That broke her, why are you getting all the hate if it is all her fault? You don't deserve this madness that she brought to your life because all you did was to bring her sunshine and be the silver lining to every dark cloud that she had. You were right, she thought.

Jenna then calls her manager and he answered fast "I thought you all deleted the pictures and the news? What happened now?" Jenna said full in rage, angry for what the public is labeling you as, "I thought you agreed?" Her manager replied "We would not delete the pictures and the news, but we would let it grow, we can handle it anyways, we just need to get Y/N out of the picture and make sure that she will not be part of any narrative. That woman is bad for business Jenna, we're telling you."

That stunned Jenna, all the time that they were talking inside the office she was so occupied with thoughts of you that she fucking agreed with this shit where you are scrutinized. Jenna then starts to cry and ended the call. What she did next will probably make her manager more angry with her.

She went out of her bedroom, grab her coat, grab her keys, ride her car, and drove to your apartment.

---

Currently in your apartment, you are with you best friend trying to read all the shit that was thrown into you in the internet. You told her the whole story and she thought that was a shit move for Jenna, because not only her manager hated you, but now, almost all of the people in the world hated you.

"I told you Y/N it was a bad idea to go that day didn't I?" your best friend told you proving a point but you can't even focus on her voice because you were so drowned out with your own thoughts that was coming in like a flood.

Your best friend kept on talking and talking until they noticed that you were just spacing out and sat next to you and pulled you in a hug which you gladly melt in to, "I'm sorry this is happening, I didn't mean to blame you, but your friend is fucking shit."

A knock to your door was heard which your best friend gladly attend to. Opening the door they were so stunned for seeing who is in the other side, Jenna.

"What do you need?" your best friend tells Jenna, which she answered "I need to talk to Y/N please." Your best friend just looked at Jenna not until your voice was heard from the inside telling that Jenna should come in.

"You have the guts to show up here, make this right." Your best friend threatens Jenna and left the apartment leaving you and Jenna alone.

"I'm sorry" Jenna started, looking at your back. You tap the empty space beside you and that is where Jenna is walking to, seating beside you.

"I wanna blame you for everything Jenna." Y/N blurted out, not facing Jenna, "I wanna blame you for everything that is happening right now." Y/N lets out a heavy sigh.

Jenna answered "I know, I know, and I'm sorry, I should be the one who gets to be blamed, I don't know what to say, I'm really just sorry and I wanted to tell that you were right." Jenna is now trying to stop the tears from falling while she looks at you, "Y/N please, look at me, just tell me what to do for you to forgive me, I'll do it, please" Jenna begs.

Y/N looked at Jenna with so much pain in her eyes, "be gone."

Seconds have passed, Jenna was too stunned to even speak, still processing what you said.

"No, Y/N please no, this can't be" Jenna said, "This was what your manager wanted in the first place, he wanted me out of the picture ever since you blow up. I don't fucking blame him for that because who am I, right? But this is not the way I imagined it" Y/N looked so defeated in Jenna's eyes. Y/N was willing to give up their friendship, even if it's not what she wants.

"No, that's not gonna happen Y/N, you are my best friend and I can't just leave you hanging, getting all the scrutiny from the media, from the public. This is entirely my fault, please, don't ask me to leave." Jenna plead, because that was the last thing that Jenna wats to do, to leave you.

"Jenna we can't be friends okay, don't you understand? You leaving me would benefit the both of us; it will benefit you since there will be one less problem to your management and it will benefit me because it can possibly help me to move on from you." Y/N said with a sad smile.

"Move on? The hell are you saying? There will be no moving on for you because..." Jenna said, making Y/N confused "because I like you too. I like you too, just like how you like me Y/N."

Y/N laughed "Stop with the pity Jenna, I know you are sorry but you don't need to tell me that you like me to give me a proper closure."

"No, but I'm not lying Y/N, I swear to God, I like you too and I'm just too scared to admit it to myself because I got so scared for what will happen to me, to us, to our friendship." Jenna said, trying to convince Y/N, but Y/N won't budge and just shakes her head.

"Jenna it's okay, you don't need to lie, I understand" Y/N said standing up from the sofa.

"But you don't understand Y/N, I like you, for real, without a doubt. Even before this shit happened, even before that dinner in our house, that night stroll in K-town, the first picture of us from the public, even before my manager knew you; I liked you since then" Jenna said standing up and getting a hold of your hand.

Y/N started to shake her head and retracted her hands from Jenna's hold "This can't be Jenna" Jenna then answered "How can you not believe that I like you Y/N."

"Because I'm just me Jenna, I'm just me and you're you. I mean, you can find someone who's better than me and who will be good for your name, but I'm just me Jenna" Y/N explained.

"But that's it Y/N, I like you because you are you, and I wouldn't want to like anyone because they are not you," Jenna said and continued "Please just tell me what can I do, please."

Y/N sat on the far side of the sofa, her mind twirling with the words that came out from Jenna's mouth. She's very glad that Jenna likes her back, but the damage was done, the media hates her, Jenna's manager hates her, and the public hates her. But most importantly, Jenna hurt her.

"I honestly don't know Jenna" Y/N confessed "You hurt me, and I don't know what to do. The public also despise me, and your manager hates me."

Jenna then kneels beside Y/N and said "I know, I know. I'm gonna tell you how sorry I am and I will apologize until you forgive me but I also know that it isn't enough for you to forgive me. The damage is big and let me just think of a way to handle it. As for my manager, let me just think again." and chuckled looking at you.

Y/N knows to herself that a simple apology from Jenna will make all the pain go away, but this is different, Jenna really hurts Y/N's feelings.

Y/N gave a sad smile to Jenna which Jenna gave back, she rested her head at Y/N's thigh and dropped a light kiss on her knees. Y/N tried to relax in the seat and puts her hand on Jenna's hair and caress it that makes the other girl relax too.

Minutes of silence have passed until Jenna bounced between Y/N's thighs and opened her camera.

"What are you doing?" Y/N asked Jenna and the other girl answered "I'm gonna do something. You just need to stay still, okay?"

Jenna puts her phone down, directed to your indoor slippers since the both of you decided to buy a matching indoor slippers because "it's cute", and captures it.

It surprised Y/N "Okay, what the fuck was that for?" Jenna then answered Y/N "Since my management is not dropping any statement and I didn't sign any contract to get you out of my life, I will be the one to make an announcement."

Y/N questionably looked at Jenna, not sure on what Jenna will do with the picture, not until Y/N saw Jenna opened her Instagram account.

"Jenna, NO." Y/N said while trying to get Jenna's phone, but Jenna knows that Y/N will gonna do so Jenna pushed Y/N away from her and starts to type.

Y/N then surrender, both of her hands up in the air and said "Okay, I'm not gonna get your phone, but please just tell me what you're doing."

Jenna then situated her phone between the both of them and made Y/N read what she typed.

With a surprised look Y/N said "Are you fucking insane? Are you sure? What the hell are you thinking?"

"Please trust me on this." Jenna said with a smile and Y/N just nodded and answered "This doesn't mean I forgive you" and Jenna bring her phone down and looked at Y/N directly and said "I know, I will do my best to earn your forgiveness and trust me back, I just hope you still love me then."

And that made you smile, because you know in your heart, you will always love Jenna, "I will promise to love you" Y/N answered with a small smile.

---

In his office, Jenna's manager was reading what Jenna posted and it is a picture of Jenna and someone's feet, but boy does he know who it belongs

After seeing the post, Jenna's manager can feel the nerve on his right lobe pulsated with what he saw. Because what the fuck is this?

______________________________________________________________

A/N: Thanks for waiting, I hope this satiated you all. Just play nice with the ig post please. I feel like I'm gonna have a headache, lol. I also don't know if I tagged the right people, I'm sorry.

People who wants to be tagged (I hope I get to tag you all):

@lilbitdepressed27 @jusnough @stalinf @mirage018 @geed-3 @atlafanforlife @adam-malkov @belatrixdragon @ijustlovemaths @canvascoloredin

[meowordeath]

Identity v characters with s/o who can’t cook!

w/ Eli Clark, Ganji Gupta & Victor Grantz

A/N: I don’t think could ever not include Eli in one of my little scenarios. I am so pissed i wrote a Norton part and it got deleted so I just decided to remove him.

Eli Clark

Eli supported you in everything you wanted to do, you want to try knitting? He’ll wear whatever you make, your feeling like you want to pick up art? He’s free to model, Brooke as well!

He’s always there to encourage these little fixations you pick up… but this cooking fixation you have, it just might kill him.

Whatever you were cooking currently smelt terrible, he wouldn’t be surprised if the whole manor could smell it, and you’ve forbade him to watch saying ‘he makes too many suggestions.’

He waited anxiously at the table, Brooke rose sat on his shoulder comfortably. When you exit the kitchen and he didn’t even want to see what was under the lid to the dish.

You smiled setting the it down in front him, and though he was smiling back he was feeling lots of dread entering his body.

“I think this one might be my best dish yet!” You say excitedly lifting the lid to… he honestly didn’t even know.

He said the same sentences of ‘wow, smells delicious’ and ‘looks too good to eat..!’ Words he used to prolong the inevitable.

Prolong he did for a total 2 minutes, before you decided to bring the fork with whatever it was on it to his mouth.

Not reacting to this dish was a testament of strength, one of which he lost, as well as whatever he had for breakfast.

Yeah you definitely felt very guilty that you had been making him stuff this whole time, when he hated it.

Ganji Gupta

He’s a picky eater and you know this because every time you offer him something you made he turned it down because he doesn’t like certain things in it.

You don’t feel discouraged, not like cooking is your passion it’s just something you do to pass the time occasionally.

Whatever Ganji doesn’t take ends up being fed to Murro’s boar. It’s not like boar complained even seemed to enjoy it.

The one time he didn’t turn you down he hadn’t known it was you who had cooked it.

He had, had a late match. Unfortunately the match was against Mad-eyes and had taken forever.

He had hoped you’d save him something to eat from dinner, but considering his fellow survivors he knew the task was damn near impossible.

When entering the kitchen he greeted you and asked if there was anything left from dinner, to which you responded handing him a plate of, well he didn’t look, he didn’t even hear you saying ‘no, but-‘

Too hungry from the long drawn out match he just took a bite, only for his face to twist into disgust. He spat the sour and somehow salty dish back onto the plate.

“Gods, whoever cooked tonight needs to be banned from the kitchen.” He said bluntly.

You blink with a blank stare before telling him you’re the one who made it. He apologized for hours following you around, as you scold him for never telling you your cooking was bad.

Victor Grantz

It was gonna be Victors birthday soon, and you wanted to do something nice since he had done cute stuff for your birthday.

You made him a birthday card, drawing cute doodles on it including a small Wick doodle. During your birthday Victor had made you a small cake, and you wanted to return the favor.

You’ve never made a cake before though so you had asked Naib if he knew how. You were thinking since he likes food he must know how to cook as well.

Naib listed off thing in a cake. ‘Eggs, flour, butter, salt and sugar lots and lots of sugar, because you know cakes are sweet.’ Those had been his exact instructions.

He didn’t exactly give you measurements, so you put these items in, to your hearts content.

You probably used half a bag of sugar for this supposed to be small cake. All said and done you put it in the oven, instruction unspecified by Naib so you just guessed.

Victor had been oblivious to your scheme. He had read the sweet, heartfelt letter you left for him that morning, his heart just about melted, he’d definitely make sure to respond to it.

He was soon invited to the kitchen by you and upon arrival you wish him a happy birthday while holding a plate with a small burnt? but also raw? Cake.

He knew this was probably going to give him food poisoning but he’d eat it for you because he loves you oh so dearly, and eat he did.

The next day Victor had serve food poisoning. But not once did he regret eating the cake. He had also wrote you multiple letters reassuring you it wasn’t your fault and you two should cook together next time.

Still so mad nortons got deleted. I hope anyone who reads this enjoys it! I did not proof read!

[page-matcha]

Music to my Ears

Asmrtist!Soobin x fem!reader

Summary: Seems like Soobin is using you for content... What shall you do?

Warnings: Heavily making out, VERY suggestive, no smut!

a/n - it's finally out omg 😭 I'm sorry for making everyone wait so long!! Special thanks to @razsberrie for helping me brainstorm for this!! I'll be making a drabble series out of this as well, so please look forward to it!

[Asmrtist!Soobin master list]

Soobin's mouth is like heaven against yours, quiet moans and whispers escaping both his and your lips. Everything was perfect, except for the way Soobin looked so distracted. He kept glancing to the shelf at the corner of your room in between kisses, almost like something was there.

Why wasn't he paying any attention to you!

You guys were literally in the middle of making out and he couldn't even close his eyes and just be in the moment with you.

You wrap your arms around his neck, trying to force his gaze to meet yours again. "Baby... Why do you seem so distracted?"

Soobin's eyes widen, caught off guard by your question. "Uhm, it's nothing." He quickly stands up and walks towards said shelf from earlier, grabbing something off of it before heading to his personal office.

What was that all about....

Suspicious of his behavior, you quietly follow behind him. Why was he acting like this? You thought you guys were having a moment earlier, absolutely lost in each other's touch. Maybe... he was feeling uncomfortable with you but was too kind to say it to your face.

When you peak through the crack of his open office door though, you find it's actually the exact opposite. He's obsessed with you.

Through the small gap in the door you can see Soobin's uploading an audio to his computer, and if you're hearing things right... It's an audio of you. Did he record you guys kissing? You see him click on an icon on his computer screen. A profile picture. Just below the small circular imagine there's a username. 'page.soob'. Wait but thats.... the nsfw asmrtist you follow on youtube!

As if on cue, your phone buzzes with a notification. He's posted a new video.

This is weird. Really weird. What's even more absurd though, is that you can feel yourself growing... wet? Are you turned on right now?

You hurry back to your room and lock the door shut behind you, clicking on the video. It seems like he edited the audio somehow, your voice non-existent and only the wet sounds of your lips could be heard. Why did he do that...? Even though he removed your voice from the recording, you were still 100% sure it was you in it. He's insane for this... Posting an audio of you two, and actually getting famous out of it. The number of views, likes and comments are already piling up a crazy amount.

Would it be weird.... if you looked through the comments?

You shake your head at the thought. He was the one secretly recording you. Looking through the comments left on his video isn't strange at all.

'This gave me butterflies!'

'More! More!'

'How do your audios always end up so well?

'I'm addicted'

'I just got the chills'

'Pov: you're making out with your boyfriend? How about something new Soob. Just a make out sesh isn't going to get you anywhere with your viewers. We want MORE!!!!'

....What?

You continue to scroll through comment section.

'the making out audios were great at first.... but now I'm starting to get a bit bored...'

'oh my gosh, just fuck us already!!!!!'

'Gosh, what a tease~'

'Come one, give us what we really want!'

They want more, huh.

Shall you give the viewers what they want?

-💌

[hobeemin]

the union of bacchus

⚜️ genre(s): supernatural, fantasy, greek god au, smut, romance, angst

⚜️ pairing(s): dionysus/artist! xu minghao x (f) oc

⚜️ summary: as the god of wine, you’d think he’d be just as lively. but no, this enigma of an immortal always kept others guessing. that is until he met her. she was more than he anticipated–mortal or otherwise. somehow, she put him under a spell. had he found his equal?

⚜️ rating: 18+

⚜️ warning(s): swearing, drinking excessively, ritual madness*, sensory deprivation, bdsm, soft dom! minghao, penetrative sex, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, unprotected sex (safe sex folks), exhibitionism, marking, hair pulling, mention of an orgy, mention of depression, break up, anxiety, heartbreak

*ritual madness: maenads (followers of dionysus) would scream and erotically/wildly dance in order to achieve a state of divine madness and ecstasy.

⚜️ word count: 11.3k

⚜️ credits: for the 13 Gods of Olympus collab hosted by @beomcoups and @wooahaeproductions

banner resources found here: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

⚜️ a/n: and a huge thank you to isi @raplinesmoon and aeris @beomcoups for looking this over and beta-reading it for me. I appreciate the feedback and comments 💜 sevn @aaagustd, niah @agustdef, maren @wooahaeproductions, raven @shadowkoofor their encouragement. this is my second svt fic and i was super nervous about it all. thank yall so much 💜✨💜✨

“Are you ready?”

There was a pause before she looked up at the woman and nodded reluctantly. The woman thinned her lips as she held the veil.

“Don’t go through with it if you’re not sure. You have to be willing.”

She turned to her reflection, staring back at her counterpart. This had indeed been a journey. So much had happened within the past month for her to be considered ‘normal’. Was she ready to take this leap of faith?

It was time to give her an answer.

“Yes, I’m ready.”

The veil was clipped to her hair as more ladies assisted her with the garment. The train alone was at least six feet long. The fabric was a golden sheer material, accentuating her shape. It was ethereal. No one could take their eyes off her as she walked down the aisle guided by candles. 

There was no instrumental accompaniment; the hooded figures around chanted softly as she approached the altar. Her eyes lifted as she saw him standing there in all his glory. Power radiated from him, and an aura surrounded him. 

She was almost rendered speechless as she made her way next to him. He stepped down the stairs, holding his hand for her to take. The warmth radiated from his palm, calming her nerves ever so slightly. He gave her an assuring smile that she gratefully returned. 

This wasn’t a mistake. This was where she belonged. He lifted the veil, chuckling softly. 

“You look beautiful, Irie.”

“T-Thank you.”

“I can’t wait to make you my bride. Do you understand what this means? Do you accept?”

Irie’s heart thumped to the sound of the scepters thumping against the ground. The chants grew louder as the figures removed their hoods to reveal countless women watching. Power radiated from the earth in the middle of the bayou. He had chosen her to be his bride. In the vast selection, Irie was to be his.

The question on everyone’s mind was if she would accept.

---

She wrapped her jacket around her body as a slight chill passed through the air. New Orleans, though known for humidity, was unnaturally cool that day. Maybe she shouldn’t have worn the sundress, but it was cute. None of her other clothes were going to be wasted on this trip.

So why was she in New Orleans? A simple answer would be that she needed to get away, but she could have gone anywhere: New York City, Los Angeles, Hawaii, Miami…the list was endless. But something drew her to New Orleans. Irie wasn’t sure quite what it was, but as she booked her flight, she didn’t second-guess her choice. 

The sights and smells made her smile as she walked around Jackson Square. The weather did little to sway the tourists and vendors. She stopped by Cafe Du Monde, grabbed a bag of beignets and an iced latte, parked herself on a bench, and people-watched. Street musicians played jazz on buckets and horns. Living statues stood in place, changing their positions slightly—walking tours passed as the guides pointed to historical landmarks. The city was alive and buzzing. 

Irie felt at ease in the midst of it all. Little known to her, she was also being observed. His eyes followed her as she took her seat on the bench. Studying her form, he seemed entranced by her. The subtle movements she made were unlike anything going on around her. While others brustled by, she found her peace in the stillness. 

That intrigued him. And anything that intrigued him was worth getting a closer look. But should he reveal himself so soon? Decisions…decisions. He didn’t want to frighten her or come off strong.

So what to do?

His mood perked up as an idea came to mind. He pulled out his phone and pressed one of the preassigned numbers. It didn’t ring long as he smiled at the voice answering on the other end.

“Did I wake you? Why were you still in bed? No, I don’t really care, to be honest…Then why did I call you? Of course, I needed something. What are friends for?”

He laughed at the response, shaking his head. “I’ll remember that the next time I have a party…anyway can you get here within the hour? I need you to vet someone for me. Yes, again. You know I can’t approach a potential on my own. Against the rules, remember. Great. I’m in Jackson Square. You’ll know who I’m talking about when you’re here. Perfect. Ciao.”

Placing the phone back in his pocket, he made his way down the street, a pep in his step as he came to an art gallery. Stepping inside, a few people looked up, greeting him as he passed. He nodded in their direction, walking towards a door off to the side. Pushing the door open, the office lights flickered as he approached his desk. With a soft grunt, he slumped into his seat.

A knock at the door brought him from his thoughts. He looked up and saw a woman’s face appear in the door opening.

He sat up straight, waving her in. “Is there a problem, Arsinoe?”

“No, no Minghao. The preparations for the exhibition are going smoothly. I just had questions about which pieces you wanted to sell.”

He nodded as she handed him a few sheets of paper. He flipped through them quickly, muttering to himself. “Everything but the Spell installment is available.”

Arsinoe nodded, taking the papers. Minghao closed his eyes briefly until he realized she hadn’t left. He opened his eyes, brow quirking curiously. “Is there anything else?”

She cleared her throat, taking a seat across from him. “Well, now that you mention it. The ladies and I were concerned.”

His lips thinned in annoyance. “Oh, you were? What’s got you so concerned?”

Ah. There it was, that coldness that occasionally came out. Minghao attitude could easily switch at the drop of a hat. 

Arsinoe shifted from one leg to the other. “Well…how are you holding up after getting that message from Zeus?”

He groaned, leaning back in his chair as he pinched the bridge of his nose. The last thing he wanted to talk about was that man. There was a lot of unfinished business between father and son that he wasn’t ready to unpack. How do you just ship off your kid to an island to be raised by nymphs? Minghao didn’t know what else to do. He didn’t care for Zeus’s approval. In fact, he managed to wiggle his way onto Olympus just on a whim. They had no idea the magnitude of his actions would rock the very foundation that was the Gods. A demi-god with God status was unheard of ever. 

He was able to charm everyone…well, not all. There was Hera to deal with, but she was a small piece compared to the others.

Minghao focused his attention back on Arsinoe. “I’m not worried about him. He’ll get a response when I feel up to it. For now, my focus is on this exhibition and other matters.”

”Such as?”

”Such as none of your business for the time being,” he snapped, instantly regretting it. “Sorry, just a lot on my mind.”

She waved it off with a smile. “I’ll let it slide. Are we going to have special guests tomorrow night?”

”Possibly. Jeonghan might stop by today,” he answered, stretching from his seat. “I’m gonna head up to the studio for a bit. Just message me if anything comes up.”

Arsinoe nodded, gathering her paper. “Got it, boss.”

He headed up the spiral staircase towards his studio with a wave as Arsinoe watched. Once she heard the door open and close, she exited the office and returned to the gallery.

One woman looked up from her work, calling out to Arsinoe. “Is he alright?”

“I think so, Nysa. We’ll all have to keep an eye on him for now.”

“May the Gods watch over him,” they said in unison.

——

Irie wiped the powdered sugar from her hands and sundress. She sipped the last remnants of her latte and threw the trash away. Stretching her limbs, she looked around, deciding what to do next. A small apothecary on the corner caught her eye as she went down the street. Stepping inside, she was met with smells of spices and herbs. Incense fumes danced around as she peered at the jars on the shelves. 

A particular one caught the corner of her eye. The liquid was bright pink and shimmery under the overhead lights at closer inspection. Irie seemed to gravitate toward it, reaching out to touch it.

”A love potion? Powerful stuff.”

Jumping in surprise, she almost dropped the bottle. The man caught it with ease, lifting the shades off his face and propping them on top of his sandy blonde hair, a playful smile on his face.

She pointed at the bottle, her brow raised in disbelief. “A love potion? Doubt it.”

He shrugged with a chuckle. “Anything’s possible in New Orleans. This city buzzes with magic and mischief.”

Irie snorted. “Magic?”

“Not a believer?”

“More like a realist.”

“Interesting. So what’s a realist doing in the most magically charged place in the United States?”

“I’m minding the business that pays me,” she snapped, staring at him. There was something about him she didn’t like. An aura surrounding him that seemed to repeal her away. Her flight response kicked into high gear.

He gave a slight bow. “I mean no disrespect, chère. In fact, to show I mean no harm, I’d love to invite you to an art exhibit a close friend of mine is hosting.”

With the flick of his wrist, he pulled a card from behind her ear and smiled as he handed it to her. Irie took the card from his fingers gingerly and glanced at it curiously.

“Xu Minghao? The surrealism experience, the ecstasy of the gods?”

“So it’s not the best title of an exhibit, but I think you’ll enjoy it,” he said.

Irie scoffed. “So what do I say when I get there? I’m pretty sure this seems exclusive and invite-only thing.”

He placed his glasses back over his eyes with a chuckle. “Just say Jeonghan sent ya. Take care, Irie.”

She looked up from the card with a start.

“Wait, how did you know my–”

He was gone.

She looked around the store. Besides a few tourists, the strange man had disappeared. How curious. She slipped the card in her purse and continued browsing. The interaction still lingered on her mind. Should she go? The event was happening the next night. It wasn’t like she had many plans. And she did appreciate a good art piece. Why not give it a chance?

---

“She’s cute.”

Minghao looked up from his canvas to see his long-time friend in the doorway. 

“I’m guessing the exchange went smoothly.”

Jeonghan shrugged, walking further into the studio and propping himself on a stool near Minhao. 

“Her name is Irie. She claims to be a realist, or whatever that means, but she’s quick-witted and feisty: all things you like.”

He nodded in agreement, “True. What else did you get from her?””

Jeonghan slightly frowned as he recalled his encounter. “She didn’t go for my usual tactics. I really had to work for it.”

Minghao laughed as he set his palette down on the table. “I like her already.”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes. “Don’t get so cocky. I invited her to your exhibit, but don’t get your hopes up if she doesn’t show.”

“Regardless, if she does, I’ll see her again. Miss Realist is attached to this city, and everyone eventually falls into the magic.”

Jeonghan snorted, shaking his head. “I wish you luck.”

“Thanks. Will I see you tomorrow night?”

“Maybe. I have to run some errands for the higher-ups. Business as usual. Do you need anything for me to pass along?”

Minghao’s expression turned sour as he rummaged through his oil paints. “No.”

“Very well. Although, your father wants to see you at some point.”

“Pass,” Minghao replied.

It was a long shot, but there was no harm in asking. Jeonghan could sense the stress that request caused his friend. Zeus wasn’t known for being the ‘father of the year’–more like the millennium. The Gods weren’t the best at their parental duties; hell, he spent most of his time cleaning up the messes of various gods to keep the balance.

“Alright, I’ll be back tomorrow night for the exhibit. I’m curious to see if she’ll show.”

“Well, this will show if you still have it.”

Jeonghan laughed as his shoulders shook. “Have I ever led you astray? I always come through for you, buddy.”

Minghao nodded after a moment. “You do. No complaints about that.”

“Excuse me.”

Minghao and Jeonghan looked up to see Arisone.

“Forgive me for the interruption, but it’s time, sir.”

Minghao sighed as he rolled his shoulder. “Duty calls. I’ll see you later, Jeonghan.”

“Take care.”

Minghao wished him well and followed Arsinoe out of the gallery.

“Nysa will close up,” she called, walking down the street.

He didn’t respond; he just walked after her, hands behind his back. The nightlife was beginning to stir around the city. 

Wonderful. 

His appetite was growing with each passing moment. New Orleans was the perfect place for him to plant his roots. He was fortunate to be able to pick a place of his own, unlike his father and uncles. Zeus thought the earth was a part of his domain, but most of the Gods who lived there rarely took him seriously. He watched in amusement as diverse groups roamed Bourbon Street in various states of inebriation. 

“How about that place?”

Minghao glanced in the direction Arsinoe pointed. The band's sultry tones lured in outsiders, including himself. He walked in as the humidity swirled into an embrace. The saxophonist blew out the last few notes as everyone clapped enthusiastically.

He stood near the bar, ordering a drink and watching. The club was packed as everyone danced. Minghao exhaled as he let his influence take over. The atmosphere became hazy. He could see the results immediately. It was enough to make Aphrodite and Eros jealous. However, he’d never admit that aloud; they worked together in tandem at times.

Looking over the rim of his glass, he noticed her. Of all the places, she’d found her way there that night. Sitting in the corner, nursing her drink, she bobbed her head to the beat.

Should he make himself known? After the way Jeonghan described her, he had to hold a conversation with her at least. Sliding through the crowd, he made his way to her, holding his drink out with a smile.

“Great band tonight, don’t you think?”

Irie lifted her brow at the stranger approaching her. Guard up, she gave him her fake smile and nodded.

“Uh-huh.”

Minghao pulled back, noting her icyness. The last thing he wanted was to spook her. 

“Enjoy your night,” he said with a nod, turning his attention to the band. Irie bit her lip, slipping from her chair.

“Hey,” she placed her hand on his forearm. Minghao turned to look at her curiously.

She chuckled nervously. “Sorry. You just can’t be too careful out here with folks. Some people have ill intentions.”

Minghao nodded in understanding. “I get it. I love this town, but some things lurk in the shadows. Stay safe out here.”

A rambunctious group of college males pushed past, knocking Irie into him. She let out a yelp as she almost fell to the ground. Minghao’s quick reflexes caught her quickly, bringing her against his chest. 

Now that she was close to him, she studied his features. Long face, nose, sharp features, cold dark eyes, lean but muscular, red stained lips, slightly puffy. His hair was dark and styled in a mullet. While it wasn’t a trendy style, he pulled it off too well. She shivered as his fingers danced along her side. Even though she was clothed, she felt naked in front of him. 

He was giving her equal attention as she gazed at him. The view was undoubtedly better up close. He could feel her pulse quicken.

“Are you alright?”

“Y-Yeah.”

Minghao grinned down at her. While she wasn’t considered short by standards, he was taller than she was. His body was lean, but his muscles rippled underneath. He seemed substantial, holding onto her in the dimly lit club. They were so close now she could smell subtle notes of oak, vanilla, and caramel from the bourbon he drank. Along with his cologne, it made her lightheaded.

“Would you like to dance?”

“Now?”

“Yeah, right now.”

Irie gripped his shirt tighter. “Yes. I’d like that.”

The double bass began the first few haunting notes as if on cue. Minghao took the lead, guiding their bodies side to side. Irie let the music roll over her, dropping her guard down as they danced. It was sensual in every way. She rolled her hips against his, making him bite down on his lip. Breathes deepened, and they seemed like they were the only two individuals in the room. 

Somehow, they made it up against the club's worn brick wall. There, Irie decided to push the envelope more. She turned her back to him, pressing her backside against his pelvis. The beat quickened as the horns joined in, accompanied by the drums. A sultry voice wove in with the instrumental, adding to the provocative nature. 

Minghao tried to keep it together. While he enjoyed taking the lead, her pushing her dominance turned him on. It stirred something profound inside him, something he hadn’t felt before. It made him pause momentarily, making Irie turn face him fully. Beads of sweat trickled down her neck and along her clavicle towards the swell of her breasts. 

“Still with me?”

“Never left,” he teased with a smile.

“Good,” she murmured in his ear. “I’d hate not to be the distraction you need.”

“Oh? I thought I was distracting you.”

“It can go both ways,” she purred.

That purr in her voice made him shiver. He pulled her flush against him, both hands placed strategically on the small of her back.

“You want to kiss me,” she stated factfully.

It wasn’t a question–more like a statement.

Damn. She was something else. 

It made his face flush.

“Yes. I-I do.”

Cute.

He was nervous. 

“Then do it,” she urged.

The friction between her legs was becoming too much. Why was her body responding so strongly to his? But she craved it, wanting him to take her in the crowd. Instead, she moved things along, gripping the front of his shirt and bringing his lips down to hers, yet she stopped before they touched. She swiped her tongue across his bottom lip. His nails dug into her back, making her whimper. 

Minghao was losing patience with her teasing, moving one hand down to her backside and grabbing a handful. Their lips finally made contact, teeth clicking as they made out furiously. No one paid them any mind; it wasn’t noticed if they did. Irie pulled away, tugging his bottom lip in between her teeth. Minghao grunted out as the pain quickly transformed into pleasure as she sucked it gently. She released his lip, smiling against him, as her chest heaved.

“Damn, that was–”

“Hot? Alluring? Piquant? Spicy?”

Irie laughed, shaking her head. “A thesaurus of knowledge.”

Minghao laughed along with her. “Not bad for two strangers, huh?”

“I’d say we’re more than well acquainted now.”

“Enough for me to ask your name?”

She poked his cheek, giving him a grin. “I think this certainly earns you the right to know. It’s–”

It seemed as if the oxygen in the room had dissipated. A force dragged her from Minghao’s arms, making her facial expression blank.

Without a word, she walked away from him. Time resumed as if nothing happened. And she was gone. Minghao looked around frantically in a panic. Where had she gone?

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Arisone and Erato. Rage filled him as he stormed over to the pair. 

“What the fuck did you do?”

Arisone bowed her head. “I tried to stop her, but it was too late.”

He rounded on Erato with a snarl. “Well?! What do you have to say for yourself?”

Erato held her ground, glaring at him. “Forgive me, but you cannot further your infatuation with that mortal.”

With the snap of his fingers, they were back in his studio. With a glare, he sent Erato up against a wall, knocking the wind out of her.

“The only reason you still stand is because you helped care for me at a young age. Explain yourself.”

She let out a cough. “I-It wasn’t just me. Eros pushed his influence to help. But I had a vision. That woman will end you and all we stand for. She will bring the destruction to what you hold dear.”

Minghao snorted in disbelief. “These are ramblings. Erato, you’ve been ill for some time. You haven't been well since I took my last bride a century ago. Maybe this is too much for you to handle. Maybe I should send you back to stay with Ino.”

She shook her head angrily. “No! No! I belong here. Just keep away from that woman!”

“ENOUGH!”

Minghao glanced over at Arsinoe, giving her a look of contempt. “I hold you responsible, Arsinoe. And to make things right immediately.”

Sighing, he ran his fingers through his hair. 

“Leave me.”

Both nymphs bowed before exiting the room. Once they were gone, he let the door slam and walked up to the balcony overlooking the city. The chill of the air was unlike the heat he felt in that club. He could still feel her lips on his, her body heat against him. 

It was like a drug; he needed another fix. No mortal had ever done that to him before. He had his list of lovers throughout time, but they were for but a season or two. Infatuations came and went as quickly as time passed. But this, this was unfamiliar.

Minghao was always so sure of himself; now, he was left alone to figure out his thoughts. 

All he knew was that he had to see her again. 

 ---

The sound of the streetcar horns woke her up. Irie blinked as her vision cleared, looking around the room. What had happened the night before? A sudden wave of nausea hit her as she fell back onto the bed with a groan. Head pounding as a migraine formed, she pulled the covers over her face to block the sun.

What the fuck? Did she drink that much? 

A shower. A shower was needed. Slipping from her bed, Irie closed the curtains so she could take some time to walk into the bathroom. The steam from the shower comforted her as it cleared her head. She wrapped her goddess braids on top of her head before stepping in. As the hot water dripped down her body, her thoughts unclouded. A ripple of emotions hit her at once. She placed her hand on the porcelain to keep her balance. The events of the previous night came flooding back.

That smile, those lips, that dance. Yes, she remembered everything. It happened, and then it was over. Turning off the water, she wrapped herself in a towel and returned to the room. She sat on the bed, deep in thought.

She felt so many emotions: excitement, panic, and maybe even desire. Who was this man? Irie turned to grab the body oil off the dresser and saw the card that the stranger had given her in the apothecary. That exhibit was to be held tonight. She picked it up, twirling it between her fingers.

Something seemed familiar about it. It may be time to find out why.

Irie held the card up to the bouncer. They nodded briefly, sliding to the side to let her through. She walked inside as her jaw slowly dropped. 

This was no ordinary art exhibit. It was a live show of sorts. Aerialists spun from the ceiling with silk fabrics as a quartet played. Wine and champagne poured from fountains as patrons took their fill. Food spilled from the tables around the gallery. It was covered in grapes, pomegranates, and figs. 

The perfect word to describe the environment was hedonism. The extravagance overwhelmed her for a moment.

And yet.

It intrigued her.

A banquet server dressed in a chiton, face covered with a mask, approached her with a tray of drinks. She took one, thanking them, and looked at the art on display. She stood in front of a canvas splattered in an array of colors. The calming blues etched across the sky made her feel wistful.

“Not my best work.”

Irie turned to the right to see him.

Him.

It was him!

Though he gave the impression of being poised, Minghao was a wreck on the inside. Now that she was standing before him, he didn’t know what to do. The god did not like the feeling of uncertainty. He was always so sure of himself and his actions. 

This woman made him second guess. She looked exquisite just standing there. Dressed in a loose blouse, jeans, and heels, it was effortlessly sexy. 

Donned in a black jacket, she noticed the skin peeking out from the zipper being pulled down. He had magenta pants and black boots, and he looked comfortable in his skin. Only someone like him could pull off that outfit.

If only she knew.

Irie felt the heat rise in her cheeks as she stared at him. They weren’t in a dimly lit club now. The spotlights above showed everything. He was ethereal, standing there, almost as if a glow was surrounding him. She averted her gaze, sipping her drink as the memory of their intimate time together returned.

“I believe introductions are in order,” he finally spoke.

She nodded in agreement as he held out his hand. “Xu Minghao. A pleasure to meet you and welcome you to my art gallery.”

Irie took his hand gingerly as he shook it gently. “Irie.”

“Beautiful. But no last name?”

She felt the embarrassment wane as she smiled. “Haven’t earned that yet.”

“Ah, there it is, that spark.”

She smirked, looking around the gallery. “If you’re lucky, you might see more. How about you show me your art pieces, Mr. Xu?”

It rolled off her tongue so eloquently. Minghao bit his lip before a mischievous smile appeared. “Very well.”

They walked around for hours, chatting as he pointed out his favorite pieces to her. Now and then, a patron would rave about his work, gushing praises. He took it in stride, being polite as he could, trying not to appear too bothered by the interruptions. 

He wanted Irie to himself. 

Under the watchful eye, Arisone dictated to the servers, making sure the drinks flowed and the food was plentiful. She kept Erato out of sight for fear of what Minghao would do if he saw her.

However, he was currently enamored with this new lady. She thanked Zeus for whatever brought that woman to him.

He was happy, and that was all that mattered.

Minghao found a quiet spot away from prying eyes and ears so they could talk more. As time went on, his infatuation with her grew deeply. He didn’t want to scare her away so soon. Irie was a breath of fresh air for him. He could have easily probed her mind to her deepest desires, but that wasn’t right. His father did plenty of that with the women he laid with. Minghao wanted this to happen organically.

“So you’re here visiting?”

“Mhmm. A vacation was needed,” she explained. “Most would wonder why I came here alone, but I like it that way.”

“The wandering traveler,” he mused.

“Something like that,” she replied. “Are you an only child?”

Minghao chuckled, shaking his head. “I wish. Unfortunately, my family is relatively large, but I have made my own way. Those close to me who have been there since the beginning, that is my true family.”

He paused, letting out an incredulous laugh. “I’ve never said that to anyone before.”

“You’re not what you seem, Minghao,” Irie stated.

“As are you, Irie.”

She shook her head, toying with the cherry in her drink.

“Tell me something I don't know,” she murmured.

“I want to spend the entire night worshiping your body.”

She nearly dropped the glass she was holding. Irie let out a huff to mask her astonishment.

“Seems you got your work cut out for you then.”

“I like a challenge,” Minghao shot back with a smirk. “Though I think I would be correct in knowing you feel the same as I.”

After a moment, Irie nodded, taking a sip of her drink. Her eyes wandered around the room at the other people standing around.

“So you consider me a challenge?”

He mulled over the question momentarily. “We’re equally matched, but I'm leaving all decisions to you. You'll decide how this goes from now on. I won't take offense if we leave it as it is now.”

It was tempting. Her curiosity peaked at the possibility of how this night would go. He intrigued her. Most people would jump around the bush trying to get to the point, but not him. He was something different. The aura that surrounded him seemed to leave her in a hazy uncertainty. She wasn't sure whether it was good or bad, but all Irie knew was that she was going through a dry spell, and his lips were tempting to bite. 

The thought alone made her face warm. 

She cleared her throat before finishing her drink and set the glass on the table.

“Let's say I agree to this. What's next for us?”

Minghao smiled, fiddling with his napkin. “Ladies' choice: my place or yours?”

Irie returned the smile, stepping close to him, so close he could smell the sweet remnants of her drink on her lips. 

“Yours.”

What came to pass that evening was nothing Irie had prepared herself to experience.

Minghao opened the door to his home, letting her enter before him. Irie looked around in awe. It was eccentric like him. He owned a townhouse in the French Quarter. Art hung on the walls, each with a purpose to the interior design. She slipped her shoes off, following suit, and wandered further inside. One thing caught her eye. She stepped towards a glass cabinet—two items glittered under the lights. One is a crown wrapped in gold foil ivy and grapes, and the other is a gold staff wrapped in ivy leaves with a pinecone shape on top.

“Like it?”

Irie turned to look at him. He came into the room holding two wine glasses.

“What are they?”

“That’s called a thyrsus; it’s kind of like a wand or scepter.”

“Interesting. Are those ivy and grapes?” 

“Yes,”

“Do you like Greek mythology?”

Minghao shrugged with a smile. “It’s amusing. The stories are entertaining.”

“Dionysus liked grapes, hmm?”

“I believe so. It was more so cause of wine.”

“Ah, that makes sense.”

He handed her the glass and led her to the couch. She settled down as the soft cushion engulfed her. Irie let out a sigh, closing her eyes.

“You find it comfortable here?”

She opened her eyes to see Minghao sitting on the opposite end of the couch. “This place complements you and what you are.”

“Oh?” He sipped his wine, savoring the rich grape and currant notes. “What am I exactly?”

Irie leaned on her forearm on the back of the couch, examining him curiously. “I’m not sure, but you’re an enigma. I find that exhilarating.”

“You don’t mince words, Irie.”

“No use in having pretenses.”

“Touché.”

Her wine drained from the glass; Irie licked her lips and set it on the coffee table. She slithered over to Minghao, a smirk on her lips. He smiled, finishing his own as she reached to put it on the table. 

“So.”

“Yes?”

“I think we should continue where we left off that night at that club,” she suggested. Irie straddled his lap as his hands found a place on her waist, guiding her down. The wine still stained his lips, making her yearn to bite.

“That’s not a bad idea. I invite it,” he replied in a husky tone.

Her nails dragged down his chest, toying with the zipper. “I’m glad. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, Minghao.”

“Maybe it was the wine,” he teased.

She laughed, tugging the zipper down. “Not at all. I’m just wondering what you meant by worshiping my body all night.”

He pondered it momentarily as his fingers drummed along the skin peeking from under her blouse.

“First, we'll have to set some ground rules.”

“Mmmkay. This isn't one of those NDA things, is it?”

For the first time, Minghao gave a genuine laugh. It made Irie think of summer rain–one of those quiet ones that happened at sunset sprinkled the ground, and cooled the earth.

He shook his head. 

“I’m all about consent and what someone’s kink preferences are.”

Irie nodded, following along with him. “Okay. Well, this might sound strange, so I’m not sure how to word it.”

Minghao urged her on with a soft smile. “Try. It’s okay.”

Irie nibbled on her bottom lip, trying not to squirm too much in his lap–he was trying not to get distracted by it.

”I’ve always been fascinated with being the dominant one in the bedroom. Choking and tying up. Being more of a giver than a taker,” she explained.

”Choking and typing up are good. Would you be open to marking?” he inquired.

Irie looked down at him, tilting her head. “I’ll be honest. I’ve wanted to since last night.”

Minghao felt a flutter in his core from her words. He gulped softly, trying to keep his pulse steady.

“What are your hard nos?”

”Bodily fluids and anything near my rear,” she answered.

He nodded. “Okay. Those are mine as well. Overstimulation and exhibitionism are also things I enjoy.”

Irie tapped her chin. “Good. Safeword?”

”How do you feel about the traffic light system? Red, yellow, and green?”

 “Fine with me.”

His hips lifted, making contact with hers, causing her to moan softly. Suddenly, he flipped their positions, her back pressing against the couch cushions. He took her wrists, placing them above her head.

“Keep these here for now, please.”

She bobbed her head, feeling that intoxicating feeling return. He was meticulous with his actions. His touches were with purpose, only adding to her pleasure. Settling between her legs, he leaned in, lips ghosting her neck. Irie gripped his back, her breathing heavy.

“What's your color, Irie?”

“G-Green.”

He looked into her eyes, smiled, and kissed down her chest, taking his time to touch any skin, all the while helping her undress. Reaching her jeans, he tugged on the band playfully before unbuttoning them. Irie lifted her hips, assisting him as he pulled them down and tossed them aside.  She laid before him only in her lingerie. The air conditioning caused goosebumps to form on her skin. He seemed under a spell looking at her on the couch. Was it possible she could have been a goddess, too? 

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

Irie felt the heat rise in her cheeks, avoiding his gaze.

”No, I want you to keep your eyes on me while I taste you, Irie.” Minghao looped his arms around her legs, pinning her hips to the couch.

He slipped her panties to the side, noticing her wetness collecting over her pussy lips. He blew softly, making her whimper as she tried to squirm away, but couldn’t far with her legs being held by his arms. His tongue flicked out, tasting her essence. He found her clit with ease, already swollen from her arousal. Fingers instantly went into his hair, pushing his face further down. Irie grinded on his lips as he took his fill. His hand reached up and massaged her breasts, caressing each one and rubbing her nipples softly. As they hardened under his hands, Minghao pulled lightly on her nipples. His eyes never left hers. Hearing Irie's noises only made him lick faster, and eventually, Minghao slid two of his fingers deep within. Irie threw her head back as curses flowed from her lips. 

His fingers and tongue moved in tandem, taking her to heights unknown. A sheen covered Irie's body as the pleasure became almost unbearable. She gritted her teeth, rutting against his mouth and fingers, searching for that sweet release. 

“It’s okay, love, you can let go,” he urged.

That was all she needed. Her eyes squeezed shut as if wave after wave slammed her body. Minghao moaned, feeling her muscles clench around his digits. He watched in fascination at her orgasm, arousal trickling down her thighs, coating his fingers. He lapped it all, cleaning her with care, coming up to sit next to her as she shook from the impact, letting her rest in his lap while she caught her breath. Irie nuzzled against him, kissing along his neck.

“From how that happened, I thought you’d be out for a while,” he observed.

“Hardly,” she murmured against his skin. “That was just an appetizer.”

She gripped his hair, tugging it back as he hissed. Straddling him from her position, her lips and teeth covered every inch of his skin, leaving red and purple angry marks in her wake. He tried to grip her waist, but she jerked his head back, smirking.

“Nope. Keep your hands to yourself. Understand?”

Minghao's Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, giving her a noise of cooperation. She set to work undressing him down until he sat there in his boxer briefs. She noticed his erection straining against his underwear. Her nails scratched down his chest, over his thigh, ghosting over his cock. It twitched in anticipation as she kneeled before him.

“I’ve barely touched you,” she remarked.

He bit his lip, trying to move under her. “G-Gonna tease me all night?”

“Maybe. It’s fun to watch you writhe under me.” 

Her breath tickled his cock, making Minghao wriggle. She chuckled to herself in amusement before giving him tiny kitten licks around the head and shaft. She moaned, tasting him on her tongue–sweet with a slightly salty aftertaste. Nevertheless, it was delicious, and she craved more. With one fell swoop, Irie engulfed him in her mouth, hollowing her cheeks. The lewd sounds that followed were music to Minghao’s ears. His hands scrambled into her hair, pulling it up in a ponytail to assist her. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her.

His sounds of encouragement only pushed her further. She deepthroated him, reaching up to massage his balls between her hands. Eyes watery and mouth stretched, she continued her movements, wanting nothing more to make him feel good. He was in complete bliss. He would have folded already if it weren’t for his god-like abilities. Still, he didn’t want to waste any of it going down her throat. This was something he needed to fill her with. He tugged at her braids gently as she let his cock pop out her mouth, covered in saliva and cum. 

“Y-You’re amazing,” he cooed.

Grinning, she wiped her mouth, giving his cock a final kiss before rising to straddle him once again.

Irie gave him a quick peck before leaning close to his ear. “I’m not done with you yet by any means. I want to be bouncing on that cock.”

Minghao reached down, pulling his underwear down, shaft slapping against his abdomen. His fingers wrapped around Irie’s throat, putting slight pressure on it. 

“Take a ride, love.”

Haziness filled her eyes as she situated herself hovering over his cock. The head coated with precum, she slid down with ease, stretching her. They both exhaled at him being buried deep within her. His hand never left her throat, giving it another squeeze. She took that as a sign to begin stroking him slowly, her hands anchored on his shoulders as she sped up.

Irie ached for another release. She quivered each time she came down on him, moaning out, frustrated with the need to cum. Minghao used his other free hand to wrap around her waist helping her move, wanting to feel her more. The knot in her abdomen loosened as she trembled above him. Through gritted teeth, Minghao knew he wouldn’t last long. 

“F-Fuck. Cum for me, love.”

Releasing her throat, he teased her clit, flicking against it for added sensation until she unraveled above him. The silent cry racked her body as she convulsed on him. Her cunt gripped him like a vice. Minghao held onto her so she wouldn't topple off the couch. The grip on him was just too much as he pulsed inside.

“Need to cum, love.”

“I-Inside,” she rasped.

He stilled his movements as he groaned, painting her insides white—their bodies jolting from the aftermath. 

After a few moments, he moved their positions to lying on the couch. He gently brushed the braids off her face. She opened her eyes and cuddled up against him.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hi,” she whispered back, suddenly feeling very shy in front of him. 

“Would you like some water?”

“I’d like that.”

He nodded, unraveling himself from her arms, and placed a blanket around her shoulders before walking into the kitchen. She could hear him rummaging around the kitchen and emerging with two glasses of ice water. He handed her one before sitting beside her. Irie sipped her water, letting it coat her vocal cords. It helped make the cloudiness clear from her head. After drinking half the glass, she set it down near the wine glasses.

Minghao set his glass down so she could curl up against him. 

“Not getting sleepy on me, are you?”

Irie fought back to hold the yawn, threatening to spill out. “Hardly.”

The following day, Irie woke up to the sound of running water. Her eyes fluttered open, and she saw two women standing in the bedroom, cleaning up the place. With her eyebrow raised, she sat up, covering her body with the sheet. The woman noticed she had woken up and stopped cleaning.

He chuckled mischievously, sliding his hand down to her backside, and gave it a generous squeeze. “Good cause we’ve only just begun.”

---

“Good morning, Irie.”

“You know my name?”

“Minghao told us to ensure you were comfortable while you stayed here.”

Irie blinked a few times, staring at them. “Who are you?”

The woman with waist-length black hair pulled into a braid and smiled. “I’m Eriphia. This is Ambrosia,” she pointed to the other woman with coppery-tinted curls.

“You work for Minghao?”

“Yes. We’ve drawn a hot bath for you to relax in. What would you like for breakfast?”

Ambrosia walked over to hand her a silk robe. Irie stood, a bit self-conscious in her current state. Both women made no remarks nor changed their facial expressions as she stood to put on the robe. Eriphia led her to the luxury bathroom, where the sizeable freestanding tub sat in the middle. Steam rose from the water as lavender sprigs floated on the surface. Irie removed her robe, and Eriphia took it and hung it on a hook.

“If you need anything, just call for Ambrosia. I’ll be getting your breakfast together.”

Irie nodded as she stepped into the water. The heat soothed her muscles as she lay against the neck pillow. She was sore, but in the best way. Thinking about the previous night's activities, she couldn't help but smile. Minghao was an attentive partner…maybe even a lover. Who knew?

She was curious about his whereabouts, though. Leaving her alone with these women seemed strange, but at least they made her feel welcome in his home. She hadn’t realized how long she’d been soaking in the tub until Ambrosia held a large fluffy towel. Irie stepped out, wrapping the towel around her body.

“Your clothes are being laundered, but we have something for you to wear in the bedroom,” Eriphia explained before walking out.

Irie walked into the bedroom, quite surprised at how clean everything was. The bed was made up, the clothing spurned across the floor gone, and the candles were removed. It looked as if the previous night had been erased.

She dressed quickly, styling her braids into an updo, and went to the kitchen. Eriphia was putting down a place setting at the table. 

“That outfit looks good on you.”

“Oh, thank you,” she answered, sitting at the table. 

Ambrosia and Eriphia bought the plates in trays and placed them in front of Irie. As they lifted the lids, she pointed out the various things on the plates.

“That is eggs rossini–poached eggs on top of a foie gras mousse crostini, accompanied with a beef filet, Madeira hollandaise sauce, smoked salmon with the toppings, pain au chocolat, and fresh fruit coated in honey. We have fresh squeezed orange juice, but I’ve got French-pressed coffee if you prefer that as well, and mimosas or Bloody Marys.”

Irie’s eyes rounded to circles. Decadent wasn’t even close to what was laid out for her. What kind of man was this Minghao?

“The orange juice is perfect, thank you,” she replied as she took her fork from the linen napkin.

Ambrosia bowed. “I’ll leave you to enjoy your breakfast. Bon appétit.” 

Irie looked down in wonderment. Where would she start?

“The eggs rossini are the best.”

She jumped with a start and saw Minghao standing in the doorway, eating a few slices of mango. Smiling, he cut another piece off with a paring knife. 

How could something so mundane come off as incredibly attractive? 

Irie blinked a few moments, trying to fight off that hazy feeling returning. Then he walked over and sat beside her, still working on his mango. 

“Did you sleep well? Were they helpful?”

“The ladies?”

“Yes”

Irie nodded, using her fork to cut into the eggs. “They were great. Thank you.”

“I wanted you to be comfortable and feel welcomed.”

Irie shot him a glance, letting out a huff. “Do you treat all your one-night stands like this?”

Minghao raised his brow, returning a huff of his own. “No. Any other inquiries you wanna know?”

Well damn. 

Irie concentrated on eating her breakfast as she let his words marinate. He wasn’t like any person she had ever met. Who would go through such an elaborate gesture for someone they had only met a few nights ago? He did nothing but confuse her more and more. There was only one way to find out.

“So how does this end?”

He had finished his mango and poured himself some French press coffee. He’d been stirring sugar into his cup as she spoke her concerns.

Satisfied, he took a sip to check the sweetness level and met her gaze.

“How do you want this to end? Remember. I did say you would decide how this went.”

“I understand, but I shouldn’t be the only one making these decisions. If it was only one night, I can respectfully say it was amazing, and I wouldn’t have any regrets if it ended right now. I don’t like being toyed with, Minghao.”

“Is that how you feel? That I’ve toyed with you?”

She set her fork down, leaning back in her chair, and stared at the ceiling. “No, you’ve been great, respectful, and decent. It’s just that–”

“You don’t want to get your hopes up,” he finished.

She nodded, quite embarrassed to have the mood changed.

He got up, holding out his hand. Irie glanced at it and then up to him before taking it.

He kissed her knuckles, rubbing them gently under his thumbs. “Irie, I like you. I haven’t been with anyone in a long time. I wasn’t open to getting hurt again either.”

He noticed her expression, and his anxiety rose. “That was a lot to unpack. I know we just met, but y-you make me feel…I don’t know…inspired again.”

Irie sighed softly, letting it all sink in. “I-I like you too, Minghao. And it scares me how much I have this pull towards you.”

He cupped her face in his hands, kissing her lips gently. “We can take things slow if you like. I’m in no rush.”

She felt the calm wash over her as his lips pressed to hers again. “Neither am I. But Minghao, I’m not from here–”

“We’ll cross that bridge eventually. I wanna show you something.”

She nodded as he smiled, took her hand, and walked up the stairs. They went past his room and headed towards the end of the hall. He pulled a key from his pocket, unlocking the door and pushing it open. 

The natural light filled the room, almost blinding her, but her eyes adjusted as she looked around. Half-finished paintings and sculptures littered the room in an organized chaos. He stood by the door, watching her look around.

“I’ve never let anyone in here before, but I wanted you to see this side of me. I know you saw the art in the gallery, but this is my personal work.”

“It’s beautiful, Minghao,” she murmured.

“Would you ever let me paint you?”

She turned to him in surprise. “You wanna paint me? Like a portrait?”

“Not as formal, but yes, I’d love to.”

“I’d like that,” she answered with a smile.

They spent the rest of the day enjoying themselves, talking, and getting to know each other better. Minghao learned about her childhood and where she was raised. Like him, she came from a large family and wasn’t close with most of her siblings–he could relate. From music to food to pet peeves, they better understood each other. 

Was it possible he’d fallen for her?

Was it too soon to tell?

But he was sure there was something deeper there than just the carnal cravings. He wanted nothing more than to protect Irie.

And yet.

Something nagged the back of his mind. How would she react to his otherworldliness? He often watched the other Gods get into tragedy after tragedy when it came to love. He had heartbreaks to heal from in the past.

“Don’t move.”

Irie sighed heavily as she lay on the chaise. One hand propped over her head as her braids cascaded down the cushions, and the other rested on her hip. She was nude from the neck down as a sheet was strategically placed over her lower half. 

“My arm is itchy,” she pouted.

He glanced up from his sketch, hand moving with the charcoal. “Give me a second. I’ll come to scratch it for you.”

It felt like an eternity, but he rose and walked over to alleviate the itch. Irie sighed in contentment, closing her eyes. Minghao dragged his hand down, leaving light touches over her stomach. Irie opened her eyes and began to laugh.

“Minghao! I’m ticklish!”

“Good.”

Grinning, he started tickling her sides, making her cackle as she tried to squirm away. 

“M-Minghao,” she gasped.

He released his hold, sitting back on the chaise lounge. Irie caught her breath and tackled him playfully. His hands wrapped around her, bringing her down on top of him. She kissed him, nibbling on his lower lip.

“Guess you’re not finishing the sketch.”

He moaned, dragging his nails along her back. “I’ll finish it later. This is better.”

She kissed his neck slowly. “I agree.”

He closed his eyes, feeling the heat rise, but willed himself to pause her movements. 

“Irie?”

She looked at him in concern. They had only been seeing each other for a few weeks. She’d even decided to extend her vacation. It wasn’t hard to do. She had enough vacation time to cover a few months if she wanted to. Was he ending things? The thought flashed in her mind, making her worry. Things had been going so well. But there was one thing Irie hated: when people didn’t get to the point. 

“Yes, Minghao?”

She waited for the ball to drop.

“I need to show you something.”

What?

She looked at him curiously.

“What is it?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Irie’s lips pulled downward. “I really don’t like surprises.”

He exhaled slowly, trying to find the right words. “It will explain who I am, who I truly am. I care about you, and I don’t want to have any secrets between us.”

“Okay.”

He smiled, running his hands through her hair. “Thank you.”

She leaned into his touch. “When is this happening?”

“Tonight. We’re taking a short trip to a rural part of Louisiana. That’s all I’ll reveal.”

Her head jerked up, giving him a strange stare. “I don’t like the word rural.”

He kissed her forehead. “I promise it’s just the outdoors. Nothing more.”

Little did Irie know what waited for her that night.

---

“What is this place?”

The trip was only an hour outside the city, near the swamps of Baton Rouge. Irie tried not to look concerned as Minghao guided her through the brush. At night, the sounds of the forest came alive. She squeezed his hand as branches snapped around her. He kissed her cheek, and all her worries melted away.

“I own some land here,” he explained. “Before I moved to New Orleans, I preferred the quiet of the forests and the swamps. I’ve always felt calm being in nature. There is so much power that comes from the land.”

As they got closer, Irie could hear drums. The beat matched the sound of her own heart. She could see a large fire situated in the middle of the clearing. People standing around were dancing, drinking, and eating.

“Is this a party?”

“Kind of,” he answered before stepping into the clearing with her. Everyone turned to him and cheered, bowing low.

 With closer inspection, everyone was dressed similarly to his art exhibit. Masks adorned the majority of the crowd. She noticed Ambrosia and Eriphia as they approached one another, one of whom Minghao identified as Arsinoe. 

“Welcome to the Bacchanalia.”

Irie glanced at Minghao to the women. “The what?”

“It’s a celebration. A time to let loose and lower your inhibitions.”

“So it’s a rave?”

Minghao snorted, shaking his head. “Better than a rave. First impressions?”

Irie looked around the clearing, still taking it all in. “It’s interesting.”

Ambrosia walked over to her, holding out a drink. “This will help, but you don’t have to participate.”

She stared at the liquid in the goblet. “What is it?”

“Black wine made from black cherries, blackberries, and grapes. Minghao’s recipe.”

She took a sip, and the tartness made the inside of her cheeks tingle. An unknown sensation coursed through her body, and she felt like floating. She giggled, handing the goblet to Minghao as he sipped. He passed the goblet back to Arsinoe, pulling Irie flush against him.

“And so it begins.”

It was like that night they met at that club. Time seemed to slow down as everyone gave in to the enchantment. The music grew louder as everyone undressed slowly in the clearing. Not a care was given. Irie and Minghao were in their own world. Nothing mattered to them. At one point, he had her up against a tree trunk, legs wrapped around his waist. They undressed quickly, and grunts filled the air. His hips snapped in rhythm, making her dig her nails into his shoulders. Somehow, he got more of the wine, pouring it down her breasts and licked a trail along the curvature. She was in absolute bliss, not wanting it to end. 

She would have noticed everyone’s pupils turn black if her mind had been clear. The animalistic instincts had overcome the people. But she didn’t care. She only was focused on the man whose cock was buried in her pussy. He took her to heights unknown, the overstimulation making her dizzy as he changed their positions, setting them on the ground as she bounced on his cock with fevered movements. Minghao covered every inch of her body with kisses and touches, wanting to be closer to her.

“F-Fuck Irie…L-Like that, you feel so good, baby.”

“M-Minghao, I’m so close.”

He sat up, gripping her hair as she hissed. 

“Do it. I’ll fill you up. Do it, please.”

The grip around his shaft nearly made him cry out. He throbbed, stilling his movements as shockwaves passed through their bodies. Irie cried out, holding onto him as their bodies trembled from the impact. Minghao kissed her lips slowly as both collapsed in the grass as exhaustion swept over.

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead.”

Irie’s eyes fluttered open when she saw Minghao lying next to her. The cloud had lifted over the clearing. She tried to sit up as the throbbing in her head returned. She groaned, closing her eyes as she rubbed her temples.

“What the hell happened last night?” she murmured through her hands, trying to hide from the sun.

Minghao cradled her head in his lap, taking over to massage her temples. She sighed deeply as there was instant relief.

“What do you think happened?”

“Most of it seems like a dream or somewhere in between that sleep and awake time. I saw dancing and drinking. And sex. There was a lot of sex. It felt so raw and free,” she rambled on.

Minghao nodded. “You’re not wrong. Everything you witnessed happened. It was what some call ritual madness. It’s a state followers get into when in the presence of a god.”

Irie snorted in disbelief. “A god? They don’t exist. Those are myths told in school.”

He paused his touches, looking down at her. “You really believe that?”

“I believe what I can see and touch,” Irie replied. She laughed, returning his gaze, taken back by his expression. “Don’t tell me you believe in those things.”

“Irie–”

“Minghao,” she sat up, looking at him incredulously. “You can’t be serious. Nothing like that exists.”

Suddenly, his skin glowed a golden bronze as an ivy crown appeared on his head and the staff in his hand.

“Holy shit!”

Irie jumped back, almost tripping over her feet. Minghao sighed as he returned to his original form. “You see now. So you believe?”

“What the fuck are you?!”

“Surely you must know. There’s been subtle hints since I met you, Irie.”

She shook like a leaf. Everything she denied made sense.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“You’re a Greek God.”

“Yes, I’m Dionysus, and I’ve fallen in love with you, Irie.”

Oh damn.

She felt her body go numb.

“Minghao–”

“I know. I’m shocked to hear me say it, too. But it’s true. I’ve fallen for you. I don’t know what it is, but you have taken my doubts about love and devotion and turned them on my head. The last thing I want to do is scare you away. I don’t want this to seem like I’m love-bombing you. What I feel is real, Irie. I can’t go another day knowing if you’ll leave my life.”

Her lips trembled as she looked down. There was so much to take in, yet she felt the same. Never had she understood what love at first sight meant, but on that fateful night, their lives were intertwined in fate. 

He held out his hands for her, and she took them. He noticed the way she shivered.

“I’m terrified of how much I feel for you,” she whispered. 

“I am, too.”

He rubbed his thumb against her cheek, pressing his forehead to hers. “Would you be mine and I yours?”

She met his gaze, pressing her lips in a soft kiss. “I do.”

---

A month later, she walked down an aisle toward this ethereal man who had stolen her heart.

She turned to her reflection, staring back at her counterpart. This had indeed been a journey. So much had happened within the past month for her to be considered ‘normal’. Was she ready to take this leap of faith?

It was time to give her an answer.

“Yes, I’m ready.”

The veil was clipped to her hair as more ladies assisted her with the garment. The train alone was at least six feet long. The fabric was a golden sheer material, accentuating her shape. It was ethereal. No one could take their eyes off her as she walked down the aisle guided by candles. 

There was no instrumental accompaniment; the hooded figures around chanted softly as she approached the altar. Her eyes lifted as she saw him standing there in all his glory. Power radiated from him, and an aura surrounded him. 

She was almost rendered speechless as she made her way next to him. He stepped down the stairs, holding his hand for her to take. The warmth radiated from his palm, calming her nerves ever so slightly. He gave her an assuring smile that she gratefully returned. 

This wasn’t a mistake. This was where she belonged. He lifted the veil, chuckling softly. 

“You look beautiful, Irie.”

“T-Thank you.”

“I can’t wait to make you my bride. Do you understand what this means? Do you accept it?”

Irie’s heart thumped to the sound of the scepters thumping against the ground. The chants grew louder as the figures removed their hoods to reveal countless women watching. Power radiated from the earth in the middle of the bayou. He had chosen her to be his bride. In the vast selection, Irie was to be his.

“I-I can’t,” she blurted out.

The crowd paused, staring between her and Minghao. She felt the grip on his hands tightened as she tried to pull away.

“Are you serious?” he asked, finally finding his voice.

Irie bit her lip, looking away from his gaze. 

“I can’t do this, Minghao. We can’t do this.”

“Why? We love each other, don’t we?” he questioned.

“Because I’m a horrible person,” her voice quavered as she snatched her hands away from his, turning her back to him.

MInghao felt his throat tighten as he stared at her. Irie balled her fists as she began to walk down the stairs.

Don’t go!

He wanted to shout to the heavens for her. Each time he tried to speak, his throat jerked back, making it hard for him to speak.

As Arinsoe tried to grab her, Minghao held his hand up, stopping her.

Irie ran out of the room, disappearing from view. Bromis rounded on him, sweeping her arms around angrily. 

“You’re just going to let her go?!”

Minghao’s lips thinned as he felt the rage flow through him. “Know your place, Bromis.”

She growled, shaking her head. “With all due respect–”

“I don’t care. Leave me.”

Arinsoe tried to reach out to him, only for him to avoid any touch. “Minghao–”

“I said leave me,” he ordered.

She knew that tone. It was final. She nodded curtly, gesturing for everyone to go. “You heard him. Everyone leave, now.”

---

The next few days that passed left Minghao in a deep state of depression. He never left the darkness of his room, denying anyone to see him, even Jeonghan. He refused to eat or drink, locking himself in his studio at all hours of the day.

Arsinoe couldn’t bear to watch him suffer like before. Things had to be set right.

She found Irie walking along the riverwalk, watching the cruise ships enter the port. 

“He’s a wreck, you know.” 

Irie, startled by her entrance, almost fell from her spot.’

“Why are you here, Arsinoe?”

“You know why.”

“I’m not playing these games with you. I made my decision. I couldn’t do it,” she expressed plainly.

“Bullshit. You love him. You’re just afraid to admit it to yourself,” Arsinoe snapped back.

“I’m not gonna sit here and take any verbal assault from you or anyone associated with him,” she hissed, getting up from her seat.

“You would have left the city if you really felt that way,” Arsinoe called to her back, “But you’re still here. You both deserve second chances at this. I’ve seen him at his lowest of lows. I raised him. Did you know that? Despite all the odds, that man is a fighter, and he fell in love with you, Irie. Why are you so scared to admit it to yourself?”

Irie fought back the tears, biting the inside of her cheek. It was too real. This was too real for her. She stared at the water as waves rippled from the ships.

”I’m used to being on my own. Disappointment was just a part of my life. Things got too real that night, and I panicked. It’s easier to close my heart than to anticipate the pain that comes later.”

Arsinoe listened to her carefully. She gave a small, sad smile, shaking her head.

”You’re a lot more like him than you realize. There’s love there. You both need to be willing to let the other in.”

Irie reached over and squeezed her hand. “Thank you, but I’ve burned that bridge even if I could.”

Shaking her head, she turned and walked away. Arsinoe sighed profoundly, watching as Irie walked away, looking at the river's ebb and flow.

—-

Minghao eventually emerged from his room. It took some coaxing, but he went outside for a walk around the town. It was a small victory for the Maenads, but nonetheless, he was getting outside once more. As he turned the corner at Jackson Square, he nearly ran into Irie. They leaped back in shock, staring at each other.

“What–”

“Ambrosia said you’d be going on a walk today,” she replied.

“Oh.”

She fidgeted in her spot, switching her weight from one leg to the next. “Would you like to talk?”

“I’d like that.”

They found a quiet cafe off the main road, settling on an outdoor table. After ordering their drinks, the silence felt so thick between them. Though his heart ached, he decided to speak.

“I didn’t think you would still be here.”

“Minghao–”

“As much as I hurt, I could never hate you, Irie. I blame myself for falling so hard I couldn’t see anything around me.”

She winced at the words. “We both were fools in love caught up in this whirlwind. I-I realized I cared so much for you that it felt like we didn’t know what we were getting into. I mean, for goodness sake. You’re a god! The pressure of knowing that knowledge was terrifying!”

He frowned slightly. “I know. I’m sorry; I should have eased you into it more, but I can’t help but feel that way. I still want you, Irie.”

“I-I want you too, Minghao. But where do we go from here?”

He exited his seat, kneeling before her, hands covering hers. “Can we start over? I want to do things right. I swear I want to be the best person for you, Irie. You deserve that and so much more.”

She hadn’t realized she’d been crying until Minghao wiped her tears away with his thumbs.

“We really are so messed up.”

He chuckled with a nod. “We are, but look at my life. It’s nothing but messed up. You make it bearable.”

He pulled her into a hug, kissing the top of her head.

“I love you, Irie.”

“I love you too, Minghao.”

She pulled away, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “So because you’re a god, that means by association, I'm like a goddess, right?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Remember, we’re taking things slow.”

She scoffed, giving him a poke at his forehead. “Fine, but when the time comes, I get to choose my own thing.”

“Wouldn’t have any other way,” he promised and sealed it with a kiss. 

[starshipsofstarlord]

Pussy slapping with bucky blurb

Warnings > MDNI, smut, pussy slapping duh, dom!bucky, bondage

A coy trinket of amusement fell onto Bucky's face as he strode around the bed on which you were prolifically bound, finding himself satisfied with the sight alone, not to mention the countless possibilities of what he could do with you all tied up and helpless like this. A blindfold was tight around your eyes blocking your vision of the pleased man, and thus when he ran his cold metal digits through your folds, your body jerked from profound surprise, all of your senses jumping to high alert.

"Doll, you're so wet for me." It was a grave statement from the man that was trickling with excitement, he didn't know quite what to do with you free for the taking, he'd never had anybody at his mercy in such a manner. From the groan that followed his annotative words your legs instinctively squeezed together as much as they could to stop the liquid of your lust from coursing down your legs, and that action caused Bucky to surprise both you and himself as he left a sharp spank onto clit, which had you keening out and your heart rapidly exploding in your chest.

"Fuck Buck!" All he could do was panic, guilt consumed the man as he realised what he had done, was he too rough? He started to fuss as he sat beside your conserved legs and stroked along them, and he couldn't help but notice how your legs jittered from the contact. Providing harm unto you was the last thing that he had ever intended to do, he could feel adrenaline staggering through his veins as he began to fuss, or from your perspective panic.

"Shit I'm so sorry doll face.” He went to lay a supporting hand upon your hip but before he lowered his palm he rethought his action, retracting them inches away from your flesh of which was riddled with stirred bumps from the exposure to the cold air. He had hurt too many people with his hands, albeit one being replaced after Stark outcasted it from his shoulder, the metal spitting sparks of fury, and now you were accidentally another addition to the many many names upon the red ledgered list.

"Bucky, my reaction was because I liked it... a lot. I want you to do it again and again and again until I can hardl- holy mother of god!" He had done it again, laying his vibranium palm against your most intimate parts, and somehow his pussy abusing actions had only fuelled his erotica even more. He was enjoying this to the same amount as your pain driven body was; it was an unexpected kink, he had always despised the thought of laying a hand down on your body, but this, he was enjoying this. He was enamoured with watching you keen forward and flinch, the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes were captivating whence he removed the blindfold. He loved condescending you in this wet handed manner, it was driving him crazy watching you be spread out before him, at his complete mercy.

[petit-etoile]

chaos construct

pairing: astarion/tav wordcount: 4869 content warnings: no in-depth descriptions, but mentions of astarion's life with cazador. no in-depth descriptions, but durge!tav remembers torture by kressa and is haunted by memories of orin (unnamed), other tags: canon compliant, hurt/comfort, introspection, character study, codependency, blood drinking, gender neutral tav, the dark urge as player character archiveofourown: here. kiss prompt: ❛ 28 . a kiss over a scar . — here.

tag list: @azrielshadows1nger, @pandimoostuff, @faevi, @microskies, @foreverthemaraudersera, @queenofthespacesquids, @claryvoyantfray, @6doodlaang14, @anne-isnotokay, @itshimbotime, be added to the taglist here

summary: ‘It will be rotten work,’ you say softly. / ‘Not for me,’ Astarion promises. ‘I will relish in it.’

　　　　　　𝐈. ﹕previous fic　　　　𝐈𝐈. ﹕next

You lean forward and look into the mirror. You take your time analyzing each and every inch of your unfamiliar reflection. Carefully, you trace the tip of your finger along the thousands upon thousands of thin white lines forever painted into your flesh. You follow the carvings from your bruised lips down between your swollen collar bones until you can no longer follow them. You slip your night shirt over your head and drop it aside unceremoniously, bracing yourself. Your eyes burn dangerously.

There.

Unrestricted by the burden of clothing, you can see it all clearly now.

You touch the scars that Kressa Bonedaughter gave you with violent, shaking hands. In truth, you’re not surprised you’ve never noticed them before. They’re practically translucent but they are there, and you can see them now, and no matter how many times you scrub at your skin to remove them, they will never be gone. You try to rub them away but all it does is make your skin irritated and sensitive.

In the sunlight, your scars are easier to find now that you know what you’re looking for. I wanted to keep you for myself, she had said, I opened you up endlessly with my scalpels, and got lost in your insides. Disgust causes your stomach to churn. Your dreams come back to haunt you. The piles of bodies. A flash of red hair and dead eyes. Knowing, somehow, what to do when Sovereign Spaw demanded Nere’s head. You were the butcher of Baldur’s Gate.

You push your fingers against your mouth and sob hysterically. The truth will always be a part of you now: The Urges, the scars, the pounding headaches, the feeling of possession. It’s horrible and bloody and repugnant and worst of all, real.

There is nothing you can do to take away what you’ve done or what you will do.

It frightens you.

You whip around accusatorially. Astarion doesn’t mean to startle you but the look on his face says he’s been trying to get your attention for a while. You snuck away from camp a while ago to sit in front of this old magical mirror, and he must’ve waited as long as he could before the worry over your disappearance overcame him. He joins your side wordlessly, but he doesn’t look at you directly. He watches you through the mirror with muted fascination, torn between sorrow, between mourning . His expression is so twisted that you almost feel like reassuring him that everything is going to be okay. But you don’t know. You don’t know if you’ll be just fine. You can’t find the words.

You feel very silly all of a sudden.

You do your best to wipe your fingers across your face, smudging your tears down your cheeks and across into your hair. You wipe your hands on your pants and try to calm your shuddering breaths but it’s almost impossible. The air around you is too hot and too cold, and you can’t tell if Astarion is looking at you with pity because you disgust him or if he’s looking at you because he thinks he has to comfort you.

You never asked for this. You never desired the truth of what you were. You wanted it to disappear before anything became real. You turn away from him, trying to force your expression into something more neutral. All you can see is imaginary blood on your hands. You put your face in your hands and hiccup.

‘Don’t you dare hide,’ Astarion says. ‘Not from me.’

He’s gotten touchier since the day he confessed to you. Despite how hurt you had felt at some of the truth, you held him throughout the night until you had fallen asleep first, and when you had woken up, Astarion had still been curled in your grip without you ever having to beg him to stay. Now, he’s the one sliding his fingers across your shoulders so that he can hold you ever so gently in his arms. He presses his face into your hair. His grip is loose enough that you could run away if you wanted to, but you don’t  —  you never want to and you don’t think you ever will. You want to be comforted.

‘Talk to me, please,’ he says, voice strained.

‘What is there to talk about?’ you ask hollowly.

Astarion clicks his tongue against his teeth behind you and presses a tender kiss to the top knob of your spine, his breath warm against your chilled skin. You want to melt back into his touch, but the fear has caused your body to remain rigid. You wait for another headache to overtake you.

‘There is plenty to talk about,’ Astarion insists. He’s trying to not pester you, but patience isn’t a strong suit of his. ‘What are you thinking, my love? What are you feeling?’

You feel sick. ‘I’m a monster.’

‘Ironic,’ he quips.

‘You said it yourself,’ you say thickly. ‘You said that there are more stories about Bhaalspawn in Baldur’s Gate than there are vampires. Who knows what I’ve done, and I can’t even remember it all.’

His thin patience finally snaps. ‘Oh, stop it. If you want to be some terrible and frightening thing, so be it. Be a beast! But remember who you are talking to. You don’t get to sulk and mope and pout.’ He sounds resigned. ‘You don’t get to be worse without me and I don’t get to be better without you. It is our deal. Never one without the other.’

‘I almost killed you that night  —  ’

Astarion bites you, very gently, on the shoulder. ‘I almost did the same to you,’ he warns. ‘This isn’t a competition, you know. I don’t care about what has happened. I’m more interested in the future.’

You almost feel insulated with how blasé he is being about your recent discoveries. You dig your fingers into your own arms and try to formulate your thoughts carefully, but even you can feel how you’re trembling. Carefully, you lean back into his chest with an overwhelmed sigh and let him pamper you.  You don’t have to look to know that he’s watching you in the mirror. Astarion is determined to rub warmth back into your body, and you let his calloused hands roam without complaint. Somehow, you’re relieved he still wants to touch you.

All at once, you feel very tired. You’ve tried hard to not allow yourself to feel overwhelmed ever since the crash but it has been weeks and weeks of nothing but bad news. The more you learn, the more exhausted you feel, and the despair has bundled itself like a painful fracture in your ribcage. It hurts to breathe.

Every day you wonder how much further you’ll be drug down into the undergrowth. Elder brains, Bhaalspawn, avatars of gods and their whims…  Astarion presses a sore bruise against your side and catches the side of your head with his mouth, delicately kissing the curve of your ear while you flinch away from his touch. You peer at him anxiously.

‘I still remember what it felt like when I awoke,’ Astarion explains quietly. ‘My fingers ached from the digging, and I had cried myself to the point where I must have looked undesirable when I finally rose above my grave. Snot, tears, mud and gore from my change clinging to my skin. But unlike you, I could not see what I looked like. I had to wonder for years if my hair looked different or if my eyes had changed color. I knew they had, but I wanted to deny it, to deny him what he had made me. I knew I was a monster and I let that fear paralyze me for centuries.

‘I was a toy for when Cazador was bored. I was a weapon for when he needed blood. I was a creature for when he desired humiliation. Being nothing more than a spawn turned me into something almost unrecognizable. As horrible as the nautiloid was, as vile as this parasite is, I can’t help but feel as though it was somehow a blessing. I could have stayed angry. I could have betrayed you, stolen the other tadpoles and ran away into the night with nothing but power on my mind. But the nautiloid gave me something I never thought I would be allowed to have in this world. It gave me you, and I cannot lose you now. Do you understand?

‘You do not have to be a toy. You do not have to be a weapon. You do not have to be a creature. You know who you are now, and that is what matters in this world. I did not betray you then and I will not betray you now, so you must stay with me, my love. You mustn’t go somewhere I cannot follow you. You and I can beat this together so long as you believe in us .

‘I wish it were different for you, of course,’ he continues, and his tone is so anguished your heart squeezes itself into impossible shapes. ‘I wish I could sweep my hand across your belly and these scars would fade, but more than that, I want  —  I want you to realize you are alive , that these scars are reminders of who you were, but not of who you will be.’ Astarion digs his fingers into your flesh and you watch your skin against his, as he drags his hand across one of the more obvious scars that Kressa had left you. ‘If you wish to tear this world asunder, I am your weapon. If you wish to preserve it, I am its guardian.’

Astarion’s hand leaves your waist to grip your chin, forcing you to look at your own reflection. His thumb cradles your bottom lip and his other fingers splay against your cheek and jaw. He is protecting you from yourself better than your Guardian ever could. What he sees when he looks at you is not the wretched blood you’ve been cursed to bear, but the person you have become since forgetting. Even if your memories were to come in all at once tomorrow, Astarion would not care. If your urges became too much to ignore, he would not care.

You turn your head to force your eyes to meet his. You realize with a frightening hunger that you love him. You love him, and he loves you truly, and this was always meant to happen.

‘If you are to become Death, allow me to be your Dark Consort,’ Astarion whispers.

You swallow. ‘What if I want to be Life and create a new world in my image?’

‘I am your Arbiter of Souls,’ he vows, ‘and I will taste your ripe seed to see your fruit bloom.’

You feel the rush of heat sliding from your stomach into your cheeks before he even finishes. After all, everything you have done has led up to this. Your unyielding devotion. His unwavering faith. Admittedly, it’s an enticing thought. That you, in all your power, could rise to godhood as though it were nothing and slaughter the old pantheon as though they were nothing. Astarion would be there by your side to bask in the glory of your immortality.

You’re so very tempted… 

And Astarion only serves to tempt you further. He begins to take in every single one of your scars like you had before, only with his mouth instead of his hands, tracing the pale lines with plentiful kisses and his tongue. He mouths at your flesh as though he has never tasted your skin before, but he has, and you know he has. Even after all this time, he still favors your taste more than anything else.

Are you hungry? You can tell that it’s been a while for him from the way his hands flex with care to avoid bruising you. His hand grabs your throat again, his thumb pressed uncomfortably under your jaw. He shows great restraint with how he handles you. You could offer, but the words are caught in your throat. Are you hungry? Your eyes flutter closed and you imagine what the world would be like if Astarion drank you dry and replaced your blood with his until the curse of you is gone and the curse of him begins. Are you hungry? You try to push the thoughts away.

Ravenous, you think.

There’s something different in the air tonight.

It’s almost soothing the way that Astarion feeds on your agony. It’s as though he means to eat your desperation, to pull it from your muscles until there’s nothing left to eat. He busies himself in your body, drunk on how you’re malleable for him, intoxicated by the way you give into his whims as he twists and turns your body to look at the different scarring in the light of day. He doesn’t seem to care about anything else rather than appraising your body like a priest who intends on making a relic based on your physique.

And, if you’re being painfully honest, his touch is a welcome distraction from how overwhelmed you felt when you were alone. You did the same thing to him once, constantly poking and prodding about his vampirism. You remember his infinite patience. Astarion had tolerated the way you stuck your fingers in his mouth, spurned on only because he let you press your fingers against his teeth without complaint. He savored the way you apologized for pricking your finger on his canine just because you wanted to see what it would take to make that restraint snap.

Astarion runs his hands down your sides and memorizes every single line left in your flesh. You watch as he grinds his teeth to keep from doing anything impulsive. He desires you so distinctively. If you were to look, you would recognize how glazed over his eyes were and what that meant. He’s trying for you.

‘What if you grow tired of taking care of your Messiah?’ you ask to divert his attention from your throat. 

‘What kind of Disciple would grow tired of their Purpose?’ Astarion counters easily. He raises his chin defiantly. ‘I would never grow tired of the God I chose.’

You would have been skeptical before, but Astarion seems intent on making you a believer of your own regime. For a brief moment, you think you ought to be concerned that this is another manipulation  —  an unapologetic grab for power at your expense. You know better.

Astarion is building a shrine between your ribs, in your marrow and in your sinew. With his loving hands, he shapes you into the Temple of Bhaal anew. Your only task is to dethrone your father and take back the autonomy which ought to have been yours from the beginning. Like the Nightsong from Balthazar. Like Isobel from Ketheric. Like a lamb at a slaughter.

Your flesh is the bread and your blood the wine and Astarion is the most devout of your followers. Not because you saved him for perdition or because you tore apart the hells to save him while he rotted in his grave, but because of the life you have given him in the aftermath of his misery. You are the taste of freedom he so eagerly covets. You are the miracle he has yearned for ever since he pressed you into the leaves in the wilds that first night. You were his from the first taste.

‘It will be rotten work,’ you say softly.

‘Not for me,’ Astarion promises. ‘I will relish in it.’

‘For how long?’

‘For however long it takes,’ he says, and he means it. There’s no coy playfulness behind his words, only the intent itself. ‘I can be devout, you know. I will wash your feet and your hair, and write a scripture so beautiful even the Lady of Loss would be jealous of the devotion.’

Before, you might have considered these promises one of Astarion’s wild whims. One of his techniques used to draw in the unsuspecting, but you have always been something more than a rabbit for the fox to chase. The underlying hum in his voice is the power of the covenant he preaches. These might have been words months ago, but not to you, never to you. This is as sincere as Astarion can be. A genuine oath that rivals the words of a paladin’s honor. He lays his lust bare in your chest.

You slide to your knees with Astarion kneeling behind you. He grabs you by the throat again, and though he tries to be as gentle as he can, you can’t help but gasp at the roughness. He forces you to look at yourself, to look beyond the scars and at the future ahead of you.

You lean into his touch. He’ll never fully understand why, and that’s okay with you. For now, this is enough to keep you content. His hand around your neck, his other tracing every scar you’ve ever received, not even pausing over the recent scrapes and bruises from the battle with Ketheric in the very depths of your personal hell. Astarion has a touch that slowly consumes you  —  that devours you until there is nothing left. You tilt your head back against his shoulder and allow him to witness everything you have to offer.

Damn the hells.

Damn the heavens.

Damn everything beyond.

Astarion does not believe in gods. He does not believe in the kindness of men. If anyone else were to offer him a gentle hand, he would flinch away from the touch in disgust. But it is your hand that is outstretched and he takes it willingly in a marriage of trust. Now your soul rests alongside his, trapped in a cage of your making, as beautiful as a prized canary to be kept in a gilded manse. Together is where you belong.

‘Are we sinning?’ you ask.

He hums in consideration, and strokes your pulse absentmindedly. He bites at your neck again without breaking the skin and inhales. You close your eyes and know the truth.

‘I’m afraid this time we are, my love,’ Astarion confesses. ‘We are passionate heretics, you and I. No other word is as sacred as the one we have to seek to build.’

‘What will become of us?’ you ask.

He laughs against your skin and nuzzles into it. His breath tickles your skin and causes it to rise. Without thinking, he bites down on your shoulder again and groans when you cry softly.

‘What does it matter?’ he murmurs. ‘All we have in the world is us. Let them come.’

‘Are we sinners?’

‘Oh, yes,’ he admits. ‘I’ve been a sinner for quite some time. Did you know  —  Did you know your blood sings for me?’

‘Drink from me,’ you say. ‘A good consort should be strong at all times. Are you weak, Astarion?’

You feel his grin.

‘I am frail, indisposed, feeble without you,’ he says. ‘I am nothing if you are not by my side.’

‘You should say it again.’

‘Why, you’re being cheeky,’ Astarion laughs. He bites you with intent this time and draws blood. You look at yourself, at the heat in your cheeks. ‘I  —  am  —  nothing   —  without  —  you.’

There is nothing more you desire than being consumed. It’s different now. You might have sought Astarion’s warmth once before, but now you seek for something else underneath his practiced exterior. You are the illithid parasite on a hunt of sustenance, and you choose the way he mouths at your skin.

‘Now,’ he muses, ‘let me worship at your altar.’

Instead of biting down into your skin to continue to feed, he trails a line of kisses across your back and the edge of your neck. Over and over, he follows a path with his fingers first and followed by his mouth as if kissing the scars will cause them to fade into oblivion. It’s such a contrast to your conversation you don’t know where to begin. This is the intimacy Astarion chooses to show you.

Nothing else matters.

Baldur’s Gate does not matter. The Elder Brain does not matter. There is only one thing that Astarion seeks. Your happiness and comfort, and Astarion hunts for them with every kiss and thoughtful touch that the dedication makes you feel as though you’re fit to burst. No one has ever done that for you, not in this lifetime and the lifetime of whoever you were before . Your hands were calloused and for murder, not for love. You keep reaching for it.

What is love if not these selfish, unholy desires? When you close your eyes to dream, you imagine Astarion and his silver-white hair over you haloed by intense divinity, his cerise gaze unwavering, this intense loyalty, his practiced laughter and the gentle lines of laughter around his eyes. These dreams drown out the nightmares and the fear. Sceleritas Fel cannot take that from you.

You will not let Bhaal win.

Cazador made Astarion with the purpose of creating a lamb for the slaughter. Bhaal created you as the knife to be used in sacrifice. You would make them both pay for this betrayal of innocence. They have twisted you into something unrecognizable. Astarion might have bit out your throat once upon a time, but now he kisses the back of your hand and watches your expression carefully for any sign of discomfort. You have reminded him of the man he could have been.

‘I do not want you to hate yourself like I have hated myself,’ Astarion tells you, eyes troubled. ‘That isn’t to say you cannot grieve, but you mustn’t become lost. I need you here with me.’

‘You’re not afraid of me, are you?’ you ask. ‘Even though I…’

‘I will never be afraid of you,’ he vows, ‘but to be afraid for you, to worry…’

‘There are still things I want to do,’ you tell him.

You think of the red-haired woman who stood next to Gortash and Ketheric, and something about her causes the tadpole to move uncomfortably in your skull. You flinch at it and press your palm against your eye as if that will stop it. You remember something , but it’s hard to think, hard to follow.

Astarion smoothes his hands down your sides and rests them on your hips, peering over your shoulder at something you cannot see. You watch the worry slowly leave his face until there’s nothing left but smooth  acceptance, as if he too is coming to terms with what it means now that the truth of what you are has come into play.

Bhaalspawn.

Not just a spawn, but the favored child of Bhaal, inheritor of the throne of murder.

Underneath that mask, you are still you. The person you have created who is kind, who laughs and plays with tiefling children, who steals stuffed animals to give as gifts to Karlach and encourages Lae’zel to find the truth of Orpheus, who stood with Shadowheart before the Nightsong and encouraged her to choose her own fate, who willingly wades through the depravity of a mindflayer den to find Wyll’s father, who does not want to be another mistake for Jaheira to clean up, who wants to mend broken bones with Halsin, who wants to drink wine with Gale and listen to his stories of Tara.

The person you are now knows not the designs your father had in store. You are innocence reborn and safe from his defiled image. You cannot remember the cruelties of your past, and though you know that doesn’t erase them, it does bring a mild relief. The only proof you have of your sickness are the nightmares that plague you on the nights when your love is not enough of a salvation.

Astarion is devoted to you, as you are to him, as you always have been. You lean into his arms and allow him to kiss the back of your wrist before he embraces you once more, tucking his eyes against your neck so that he no longer has to bear the burden of understanding his reflection will never appear next to yours, no matter how hard you both seek it in the magic mirror. Your throat tightens painfully.

‘Thank you,’ you tell him softly.

‘I couldn’t leave you to your despair alone,’ Astarion says with a hopeless shrug. ‘The thought of you suffering the same as I… I brooded over my own existence for two hundred years with no one to comfort me.’ He mourns carefully. ‘I couldn’t let that happen again. Not to you.’

He takes your hand in his and presses on your knuckles, forcing your fingers to flex against their will. He turns your palm over in hand and stares at the callouses. It's as though he’s admiring a cat, your nails now your claws, his thumb massaging the tension in your palm so your fingers tremble slightly.

‘I’d have let it happen to Gale,’ he says off-handedly. You snort. ‘But not to you,’ he clarifies, dropping your hand and kissing your cheek. ‘I love you too much.’

He always says I love you so painstakingly soft as if it’s the first time he’s ever uttered the words. And with the proper meaning, you know it is. Astarion’s love is a slow molten fire that covers everything. It could be destructive if you let it, but you build with it and twist underneath the heat to forge something greater. Everything is so intense between you as if a chord pulled taut. The littlest bump sends it vibrating and you get lost in the sensation. You want him to say it again.

‘I love you,’ Astarion says, voice ravaged. ‘Whether you are pious or irreligious.’

You think of him as a pioneer of a new religion. He distracts you with the gentlest of kisses against the tip of your ear.

‘Are we sinning?’ you ask again.

‘We are sinning deliciously,’ he tells you sincerely.

You would be a liar if you pretended like it didn’t excite you. You have a chance to hold a new world in the palm of your hands with an executioner by your side. You make your decision  —  If there is to be a God of Creation, you would remake the world in your image. Jergal would rise back from obscurity, no longer embarrassed by his despised successors. You see a flash of red hair and chase it through the darkness, no longer afraid.

‘Drink,’ you whisper to him. ‘I want you to.’

Astarion tilts your chin to the side and bites down onto your neck with great care. It always hurts when he penetrates you for the first time, but by now, he’s learned to not be such a messy eater. These are the new scars that you accept. This is the person you seek to become. You close your eyes and relax into the feeling of sharp teeth and spit, and it’s like he sucks the venom from your veins. You float weightlessly as he seeks his fill.

He plucks your fruit easily with the prettiest of hands. Astarion swipes the goodness of you and brushes it against his lips, tasting it with the tip of his tongue and shivering at the flavor. He treats every time he feeds from you as if it is the first time. He savors your blood, is made man by your blood, until the pale red glow in his eyes fades into something more human . These eyes are the eyes that belong to your angel of death. You welcome it.

There are still battles to come, but you no longer feel as overwhelmed as you had this morning when you awoke with sickness in your stomach and your friends staring at you in a cautious, distant manner. There is now semblance of hope burrowed in your chest where your heart once was.

You say, ‘I want you to be there when I make a new kingdom.’

It means:

At the end of the world, it will be you and me and our memories, our friends and allies, our souls. You twine your fingers with his and let him manipulate you so that you’re facing one another. You no longer seek the mirror for encouragement.

It would not matter if it was this year or in one hundred years. The only certainty in life is that this was what you wanted. Astarion’s honest eyes and searching hands. You could turn into a mindflayer tomorrow and your last thought would not be of your doom and terror, but of this delicate flower you hold in your palms. It has sprouted from nothing with only tears as encouragement, and now it is your turn to be buried, to transform into something beyond your recognition. Only, when you dig your way through layers of dirt and brick, you would not be greeted by nothingness.

Astarion kisses you once, his mouth so tender it’s almost heartbreaking, and then again. He grazes your bottom lip with his teeth and bumps his nose with yours affectionately, murmuring, ‘Yes, my God of Murder.’

[hippiegoth97]

Hangman's Joke: An Eddie Munson x Reader Halloween Special (The Crow AU) Part Four

Collage by me :)

Master List

Special Thanks to @keikoraven for beta reading for me <3

Part One / Part Two / Part Three

Tag List: @ar-jupiter @alcielo1438 @cairro-xx @stolen-in-moonlight

@micheledawn1975 @janiejenn @rafeyscurtainbangs @melodymunson @spacedoutdaydreamer

@veemoon @sariahs-stuff @feral-pumpkin-energy @comeonatmebruh @munsoneightysixx

@morgthemagpie @josephquinnsfreckles @jenniquinn @userchai @cometzombie

@spookybabey @daggerdaggerkitten @nina6708 @sanctumdemunson @yourdailymemedelivery

@person-005 @slowandsteddie @gri959 @elegantkoalapaper @letitgoandletlive

@loserboysandlithium @costellation-hunter @leelei1980 @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever

@ohmeg @stalactitekilla @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne @oneforthemunny

@prettyboyeddiemunson @eddievanmunson @msgexymunson @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust

@bimbobaggins69 @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @bimbogorewhore

@mediocredreams @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @ali-r3n @emxxblog

@cxrrodedcoffin @queenimmadolla @kellsck @keeksandgigz @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes

If anyone wants added/removed from tags please let me know <3

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, smoking, fighting, abuse, blood, murder, violence, weapons, guns, gun violence, gore, death, animal death, character death, murder, angst, crying, happy ending

Word Count: 11.5k

divider by @strangergraphics

Part Four

October 31st, 1992

Max is woken up early in the morning to a pillow thrown at her face, followed by the covers being yanked off of her body. She lets out a small annoyed sound as she stirs, rolling over and reaching for the end of the blanket.

“Where the hell were you last night?” Billy’s voice hits her sleepy head like a brick, knocking her wide awake. Her eyes snap open, and she sits up in bed.

“I was over at Lucas’s house. Why is it any of your business?” Max sasses, getting out of bed, still wearing the clothes Y/N dressed her in last night. She goes over to her dresser, picking up a brush to sort out her hair. It’s always a tangled mess in the morning when she doesn’t put it up. 

“It’s my business because Mom and Dad didn’t know where you were, and they chewed me out for it! Do the Sinclairs not have a phone?” Billy snarls, stepping closer to Max.

“It wouldn’t have to be your business if you moved out and stopped mooching off our parents.” Max mutters, running the firm bristles through her ginger locks.

“What was that?” Billy barks, just waiting for her to give him a reason to beat her sorry ass.

“I forgot to call. Sorry.” Max answers sheepishly, setting the brush down. She looks at Billy in the mirror’s reflection, finding his icy stare waiting for her.

“I know what people have been saying around town, Max. That somehow that satanic bitch is back, and killing my friends.” Billy says, his tone equal parts furious and sly. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, now, would you?” He asks, every word telling her she’s on dangerous ground.

“No.” Max scoffs, rolling her eyes. “She’s dead. Everybody knows that.” She adds nervously.

“Yeah, well, it seems somebody is out looking for revenge. But I can’t think of anyone who would give a rat’s ass enough to come after us in their name. Can you?” Billy stands right behind her now, having slowly approached during his unnerving questions.

“N-No.” She stutters, feeling his breath over her shoulder.

“That’s right. Because other than you, and that pig Hopper, no one cared about those fucking freaks.” He seethes, holding Max’s stare in the mirror with unfiltered malice. “Now, I’m givin’ you one last chance to tell the truth. Where were you last night? And where is that crazy bitch hiding out?” Billy commands, raising a hand to grip his little sister’s shoulder. He squeezes it hard, not intending to let go until she gives him what he wants.

“You’re crazy. Even if Y/N was alive, I’d never tell you where she is.” Max scoffs, playing up her skepticism. It’ll take a lot more than Billy’s typical threats to get her to spill the beans.

“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me, Max!” Billy yells, forcing her to turn around in his grip. “You tell me where she is, right now, goddamnit!” He frantically shakes her, hoping the answers will come spilling out. 

“I don’t know! Stop acting crazy! Let me go!” Max squirms and flails, trying to break free from his grasp. But he’s bigger and stronger than her, so it's no use. She continues to scream, pounding her fists on his chest.

“Stop lying to me! I know she’s back! And I’m gonna kill her again! I swear to god, Max! Answer me!” Billy shouts back, his eyes growling wilder by the minute, murderous rage filling him from the inside out. 

“I’ll never tell you!” Max cries, tears streaming down her cheeks in fear. Billy’s gone crazy on her before, many, many times. But never like this, so unhinged and monstrous. “Your friends got what they deserved! And soon enough, you’ll get yours, too!” She pounds harder on his chest, kicking up her leg to knee him in the crotch. She sticks the landing, sending Billy falling to the floor.

“Shit.” Billy gasps as the wind is knocked out of his chest, nearly collapsing onto the floor while clutching between his legs. Max runs from the room, rushing to find her jacket and shoes and make an escape. Her parents are out for the day, her mother doing the weekly shopping, while her father is bowling with his buddies from work. There’s no one to help her, and she needs to get out now. “Come back here, you little bitch!” He yells from her room, still waiting for the pain to pass before he can get up and go after her.

Max doesn’t respond, too preoccupied with struggling to pull her sneakers on. The left one is on, but the right is giving her trouble. Her foot just won’t go in at the correct angle, and her heart pounds in her ears as she tries to hurry. She can see Billy slowly climbing to his knees from her spot near the front door. She finally gets the other shoe on, slinging her jacket on next and grabbing her skateboard. Max goes for the door, stealing a look behind her to find Billy speeding her way. She lets out a scream, yanking the door open and running outside. 

“Fuckin’ bitch! Get back here!” Billy growls as he misses her by an inch, the door slamming shut in his face. He turns the knob, throwing it back open in his pursuit. It slams against the inside of the house, and he finds Max attempting to drop her board and skate away. He hurries down the front steps, eager to catch up to her. She’s got one hell of an ass-kicking coming her way.

“Shit.” Max mutters as her wheels get stuck in a pile of rain-matted leaves sticking out past the gutter, kicking her foot to try and squeak through them. The wheels screech at her in protest, becoming more jammed up in the peat mess of foliage with every stroke of her leg. “C’mon, dammit!” She grunts in frustration. She’s about to abandon the board and run, when it finally pushes through and she nearly rockets forward just before Billy has the chance to snatch her up altogether. “Yes!” She cries in victory, adrenaline coursing through her as she speeds off. 

“Get back here, Max! Right now!” Billy tries to keep up, running as fast as he can to match Max’s speed. But his athleticism is no match for a set of wheels. Once Max turns down the block, she's got too much ground on him to catch up. “Fuck!” He growls, balling his fists at his sides. He punches a nearby mailbox, leaving a large dent in the thin metal, as well as a bit of blood from his knuckles. He storms back inside, already forming a plan to stop this shit once and for all. He won’t let this bitch win, not a chance in hell. If he has to see to it that she’s cremated this time, so be it. He will not rest until Witch Bitch Munson is shuffled off this mortal coil once again. And he knows just who to call to help him out.

It’s an uncharacteristically clear day on Halloween morning, the sun poking through sparse clouds. The only traces of the intense storming throughout the previous night are soaked piles of dead leaves, and slow-drying puddles on the pavement outside. It’s a fresh new day, setting the perfect stage for your final act. You received just short of Hopper’s outright blessing, and Max is in a better place mentally after your short reunion. Talking to them both has helped you feel much better about the whole thing. They know it isn’t your fault that you’re back, and they hold no affection for the men who took you and Eddie away in the first place. Divine justice, Hop called it last night. Oddly spiritual, coming from him. 

You’re itching to get this shitshow on the road already, but the crow warns you that danger is afoot. It appears Billy, the ringleader in your murder, doesn’t plan on going down easy. And in turn, neither will Jason. You can sense it all through the mind’s eye of the dark bird, hear their plotting and see the numbers they intend to amass this evening. A good ten other men will be gearing up with weapons of all sorts, and locking themselves down at Carver’s house. You can hear them making remarks about how good they’re gonna get you this time, how they’ll make the devil regret sending you back here. If they only knew the half of it. You recognize a couple of the guys from last night, surely they’ll regale the others with their tales of ‘satanic mind control’ to fan the vitriolic flames that burn inside of them all. You’re certainly in for a challenge, for once. And you’re looking forward to it, leaving all regret and shame at the door. 

There’s something else, though, concealed from your view. You don’t know what it is, but it doesn’t feel good. The crow won’t allow you to see, for it will throw your mission off course. It’s like black feathers are flapping in your vision, dizzying your head when you try to focus on it. You’re annoyed that you aren’t allowed this small piece of knowledge, given how much the crow has consistently shown you throughout this experience. You only hope it doesn’t involve your friends getting hurt, you couldn’t rest peacefully if anything happened to them. You light up another cigarette, second to last in the pack, waiting for your cue to take a final bow once the sun goes down.

Hopper’s startled out of his beer-steeped slumber by a pounding on his door, making him roll over with a loud groan. He squints his eyes open, peeking at the clock on his bedside table. 9am, he should already be at the station by now. He spent far longer than he thought he would talking to Y/N last night, and as much as his head hurts from the beers they shared, he doesn’t regret a second of it. Although, it’s probably Powell and Callahan currently banging down his door. The knocking still hasn’t stopped in his moment of contemplation, it would be best to answer it sooner than later. 

“Coming!” Jim calls to whoever is on the other side of the door, wiping his hands over his face as he sits up in bed. He picks his robe up off the floor, standing to put it on. It wouldn’t exactly be polite to answer the door in his boxer shorts, after all. “Keep your pants on.” He says as he slowly walks down the hall to meet his visitor. He grabs hold of the doorknob, twisting it to pull it open and reveal who’s outside. He finds Max standing on his doorstep, tears staining her red, puffy cheeks, her body trembling in utter terror. “Max, what’s wrong?” He asks, surprised to see her in this state. She doesn’t answer his question, too busy choking on her sobs. Something must have happened, and given how distraught she looks, it’s really, really bad. "Come inside, kid.” He sighs, looking behind her to see if anyone else is around. Y/N, or the crow that was with her, or someone far less friendly.

“I didn’t want to lead him right to her.” Max hiccups once she’s inside, following Hopper as he brings her to the couch.

“What do you mean? What’s going on, Max?” Jim asks, confused.

“Billy. He knows that Y/N’s alive. He was grilling me all about it, and he wouldn’t let me go. I thought he was gonna hurt me.” Max starts crying again as she speaks, her words making a flare of anger rise in Jim’s chest. “I wouldn’t tell him, and I managed to get away. I wanted to go to Y/N, and warn her. But I was worried Billy might follow me.” She shoves herself into Hopper's chest, her fear getting the best of her. His arms close over her instantly, holding her close to keep her safe.

“It’s alright, kid. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” Jim says softly, though his insides boil with rage. 

“It’s not me I’m worried about, Hop.” She whimpers, muffled by his robe.

“I know.” He replies simply, becoming rather worried himself now that Hargrove is no doubt gathering his posse and gearing up for a fight. Y/N’s grown rather formidable in her newly-undead state, but those young men pack a hell of a punch regardless. “Look, I’m meant to be at the station, you can come with me. There’ll be other officers around, and you’ll be safe. Okay?” Jim offers. 

“Isn’t there anything we can do to help her?” Max asks, raising her head to look in Jim’s eyes. She finds no answer within them, and helplessness spreads through her veins like ice water. 

“I don’t know, kid.” Hopper sighs, unsure what else to say. He wishes he could drop everything and drive over to Crystal Ridge, and back Y/N up when the fight comes to her. But there’s too many responsibilities waiting for him. Parents to identify bodies, reporters with questions, his fellow officers needing a plan of action from their commanding officer. Unfortunately, that leaves Y/N on her own for the time being. And it kills him to do so once again, he can’t be there in her time of need. He only hopes she can fight back this time, and earn her victory. 

“Promise me you’ll at least try?” Max asks, picking at her cuticles as she’s aware of how big of a request she’s making. She doesn’t want Hop to get hurt, then she’d have no one. But Y/N has thus far taken the brunt of the risk, and Max finds it unfair to let her suffer it all herself. Again.

“Of course I will, Max. I’ll do everything I can.” Hopper promises, nodding his head even though the words feel like a cruel lie. No matter how much or how little effort he does end up putting in this time around, it will never feel like enough. His best wasn’t enough to save Sarah, or the Munsons, not even Pete fucking Howell. “I gotta get dressed, kid. Did you eat yet?” He asks as he stands up.

“No, didn’t have a chance to.” Max answers, her stomach rumbling.

“I’ve got Eggos in the freezer, pop a couple in the toaster before we leave.” Jim instructs as he walks down the hall to his bedroom.

“You got it, Chief!” Max perks up, heading for the kitchen. 

Jim chuckles, closing the door. He hurries to get ready, fishing out a clean set of his tan uniform from the closet. He’s got to look his best for the news cameras when he gives a public statement about these brutal killings. Brutal, but deserved, he thinks briefly, making note to leave that last part out. 

“Are you sure about this?” Jason asks, pacing the floor of his living room. Billy’s just filled him in on his little theory about who the killer is, and the plan he has in mind to take care of her. 

“Yeah, man. The bitch is back, and we gotta put her down. For good this time.” Billy says with cruel confidence, crossing his arms from his spot on Jason’s couch.

“I mean, you realize how crazy this sounds, right? Y/N Munson is dead, we sure saw to that a year ago.” Jason retorts, wondering if Hargrove has truly lost it this time.

“Believe me, Carver, I know how it sounds. But it’s the only thing that makes sense. Besides, Max told me all I needed to know.” Billy responds, unfazed. 

“Which was what, exactly?” Jason questions, growing rather irritated with all these ghost stories. There’s been more than enough gossip around town in the short amount of time Tommy and Steve turned up dead. And he would love nothing more than to forget all about that night. He did what was right for the town, and that’s all. He’d prefer not to have any part in a recreation of the justice the four of them served. 

“Enough to know that Y/N Munson is back, and she’s gunning right for us!” Billy snaps, making the other man flinch. He sighs, putting his rage away, saving it for the satanic whore who deserves it. “Look, I don’t like it any more than you do. But I, for one, am not gonna sit by and wait for that devil-worshiping cunt to come along and slit my throat.” He explains.

“And how do you suppose we do that?” Carver asks, more full of questions than he’s ever been. 

“We’re gonna round up the boys, and gear up.” Billy says, as if the answer is obvious. “We’re also gonna go get my sister and bring her here. She’s gonna be the bait.” An evil grin spreads across his lips, and he cracks his knuckles. He’s going to enjoy killing Munson again, and he’ll enjoy making Max watch this time even more.

While Hopper has been busy handling the frantic press and public all afternoon, Max has been sitting in a chair in the bullpen at the station. Officers hustle and bustle all around her, answering calls from the tip line Jim put out for the citizens to report anything ‘suspicious’. She doubts anything these officers are writing down will be relevant, probably just more silly rumors and bored housewives looking for attention. Flo, a kind old woman who sits at reception, brings Max homemade cookies and hot chocolate with a warm smile on her face. No one else really pays the girl any mind, but it’s not their fault. This town hasn’t seen anything this big since the events of last year, which has everyone in a frenzy to get to the bottom of it. It all feels rather pointless to Max, and surely Hopper as well, given that they know exactly what’s going on and have no intention of stopping it.

Max doodles on a pad of paper Flo supplied to her, sketching crows with wispy black feathers and close-ups of motorcycles. She would draw Y/N, too, but she’s never been very good at faces. Plus, she’d hate for one of the cops to come by and question her about it. It’s odd enough that she’s drawing birds that represent death and mechanical parts, as opposed to the landscapes and flowers one would expect from her creative hand. She hopes Jim will be finished with the press conference soon, an uneasy feeling has been twisting around in her stomach ever since he left her in here. Like danger lurks just around the corner. Just a little longer, she tells herself. Hop will be back soon, and everything will be fine.

Max munches on her cookies, sipping the cocoa to wash it down. The sounds of phones ringing, voices mingling together, and the scratching of pens on paper lulls her into a false sense of security. She continues to sketch, filling the page with the things that have stuck with her since her visit to see Y/N. “Damn.” She lets out a small sigh when she messes up on getting the curve of the crow’s beak just right, turning her pencil over to erase the mistake. She fixes it right up, smiling happily at her handiwork. With the page full to the brim now, she gives her eyes a break from staring down at the paper. Just as she looks up, the last person she wants to see right now comes storming into the station.

“There you are, you little shit!” Billy yells as he stomps over to her. His words draw the attention of everyone in the bullpen, all other sounds falling silent. He reaches her in no time at all, grabbing her roughly by the arm.

“Ow, let me go!” Max shouts, looking to the officers around her for help. A couple of them have their hands trained on their holsters, ready to pull out their weapons if necessary.

“Nobody try anything!” Billy announces as he takes notice of their guarded actions, pulling a large pistol from his jeans. He holds it up, waving it at various officers to get his point across. “Don’t try to stop me, or I’ll shoot her!” He warns, yanking Max to her feet. His eyes dart around the room, checking to see how many officers there are. Eight of them spread through the room, all standing at their desks. Except for one, who attempts to slowly make his way over to Billy. His hands are outstretched defensively, a cautious expression on his face. “Hey! Don’t come any closer!” Billy snarls, pointing the gun at the officer. The man stops in his tracks, eyes widening as Hargrove cocks the weapon. “Stay back! All of you!” He shouts, his features taken over by mania.

“Billy, let me go!” Max protests, squirming in his hold. His hand is wrapped tightly around her arm, enough to leave her with a bruise later. She wonders where Hopper is, why he hasn’t come back yet. He could easily put an end to all this.

“Shut up, you little bitch!” Billy growls in her face, going so far as to smack the loaded gun across her face. She screams as cold metal meets her forehead, immediately sending a throbbing pain into her skull, and a trickle of blood runs down her face from a small gash the weapon leaves behind. The onlookers gasp in horror at the abuse, but they all stay where they are with their hands held up. 

“Why are you doing this?” Max whimpers as she rubs her head, tears streaming down her cheeks as she realizes no help is coming to her now.

“You’re comin’ with me. I’m setting a little trap for your friend.” Billy says, just low enough for only her to hear. “And then you’re gonna watch me kill her again.” He chuckles darkly, tugging her along with him now. “Where’s the back door outta here?” He addresses the room again, expecting a quick answer. A couple apprehensive fingers point behind him, but it may be a trick to catch him off guard. He goes for the officer that meant to approach him before, pointing his weapon at him once again. “You! Show me the way out!” Billy commands. When the cop doesn’t move right away, he turns the gun on his sister. He holds the barrel to her temple, causing her to shriek. “I’ll fucking shoot her, I swear to god!”

“No, don’t! I-I’ll show you. Follow me.” The officer says nervously, gesturing towards the back of the station. 

“Lead the way.” Billy replies, nudging the gun in his grip. Max lets out a sigh of relief when it’s not held at her head anymore, though her sobs don’t stop. Her eyes plead with every officer she passes, and Flo, to do something, anything to stop her brother. They outnumber him, most of them have weapons. And yet here they stand, useless as always. 

The officer, who’s tag Max didn’t have a chance to read, shows them to a back door down a short hallway next to the bullpen. The man opens the door for them, and stands back to let Billy lead Max outside. “I’m sorry.” He apologizes weakly to Max, before closing the door behind him.

Billy leads Max around to the front of the building, bypassing the crowd out front with the gun pressed against her back. Max sees Hopper at a podium, issuing his statement and answering questions from the press. She wills him to notice her, to tell him telepathically that she’s in danger. “If you scream, I’ll make sure to aim for the pig Chief first.” Billy whispers threateningly, still dragging her along. No one notices anything is amiss, too focused on the big show. “Get in the car.” Billy instructs as he shoves Max forward towards his Camarro. He rushes to pull his keys from his pocket, it won’t take long for those scared little piggies to alert Hopper of the situation.

Max thinks it over for a moment, stalling as she opens her door once it’s unlocked. It’s risky to draw attention to herself. Billy could hurt someone, even from the far end of the parking lot. Or he could hurt her worse than he already has. But she takes her chance when Billy’s preoccupied with getting the engine started. “Help!” She cries, as loud as she can, hoping it’s enough to be heard over the mass of reporters outside. “Please! Help! Help me! Somebody!” She continues.

“Shut the fuck up, and get in the car! I told you, I’ll shoot Hopper if you don’t quit it!” Billy barks, reaching over the seat to grab her arm that’s barely inside the car.

“Someone please! Help! Hopper!” Max screams, and a few heads in the crowd turn her way. 

Hopper finally sees her from his vantage point, eyes blowing wide. Billy’s come to take her, and there’s blood running down her face. He hurt her. “Stop that car!” Jim shouts, pointing in the direction of the Camarro. He leaves the podium, trying to get past the crowd and reach Max.

“Get in the fucking car! Or I’ll shoot you right now!” Billy yells, his final warning. Without thinking, Max stops screaming, and gets into the car. She pulls her door closed, and Billy speeds off like he’s drag racing the Devil. Max doubles over, sobbing uncontrollably as she hates herself for giving in. But she doesn’t want to die, or for Hop to get hurt. So, for now, she’ll have to play damsel in distress. Her only hope for savior now will be when Y/N comes to take the last two lives she’s owed.

“Dammit!” Hopper exclaims as Billy speeds off. A couple officers come up to him, reporting what happened inside the station while he was busy. “Why didn’t you stop him? All of you are trained and armed, for fuck’s sake!” He shouts, before forcing himself to take a deep breath. The cameras are still rolling, and there’s a lot riding on his handling of the situation in a calm, respectable manner. This conversation can continue behind closed doors, as loud and as angry as he wants to be. Within reason. “Just…find them. Now.” He says as calmly as he can, dismissing the officers to get on it. This certainly complicates things.

Without a second thought, or the effort to alert anyone as to where he’s going, Hopper gets into his truck and goes straight to the place where he knows Y/N is hiding out. He peels out of the lot, ignoring the news crews that chase after him. The vultures can wait for whatever statement he’ll no doubt have to make after this is all sorted. If he makes it out alive, that is. His hands squeeze hard on the steering wheel, the rubber material twisting under his strangling grasp. This entire ordeal is getting out of hand, and he’s damn near clueless on what to do about it. He’s just the Chief of police in a small town made up of nothing. Hostage situations and task forces aren’t exactly in the realm of normal operations. Maybe back at his old precinct in the city, but there’s barely enough officers here to deal with a standard robbery, let alone this clusterfuck. 

Hopper’s front tires roll over the curb outside of Crystal Ridge, no time can be spared for perfect parking as the sun goes down. He jumps out of the truck, nearly falling on his face in the rush. He catches himself with the side of the vehicle, breathing hard as thoughts of what harm may come to Max play wildly in his head. He hopes that Y/N’s here, she has to be. He needs her help, now more than ever. And Max even more so. Hopper heads inside, jogging up the steps and down the pitch dark hallway. He approaches the open door to the Munson residence, a place he hasn’t returned to in almost a year. He walks through the threshold, looking around at the trashed interior.

“Y/N?” Hopper calls for you, startling you out of your train of thought about how exactly to pay Billy back for ruining everything you ever cared about. “Are you here? Max is in trouble. We don’t have a lot of time.” He calls out to you breathlessly, still awaiting a response.

“Yeah, I’m here.” You step out of the bedroom to reveal  yourself. “What’s going on?” You ask with worry.

“Billy’s got her. Max came to me this morning, she was really upset. They had a fight. I brought her with me today, and Billy held the station at gunpoint to take her. He knows you’re back, and he’s using her as bait to lure you out.” Hopper explains, struggling to keep a hold on his breath. 

“I already know where he is. The crow showed me. Well, not everything.” You reply, turning to fix the bird in question with a glare. I knew you were hiding something from me, you little shit. It gives a small caw in response, bowing its head as if to offer an apology. You turn to look at Jim again, putting aside the omission of truths. “But, I know what I’m walking into.” You say confidently, and he gives you an odd look.

“Mind filling me in? Jim asks, thinking he may be able to provide some backup this time around.

“This’ll teach you to run from me.” Billy snarls as he tightens Max’s restraints. He’s got her tied up to one of Jason’s kitchen chairs, with a thick strip of duct tape placed over her mouth. Can’t have the neighbors in the rich part of town hearing a little girl’s cries for help, now, can he?

“Is this really necessary, man? She’s just a kid.” Jason asks, his teeth worrying his lip as he looks at the girl. Endless tears stain her cheeks, blood from the pistol-whip Billy gave her dripping down to her chin, dark and crusted over her pale complexion. His stomach rolls, wondering if perhaps his friend is going too far to bring Y/N down. If she’s even the one who’s been doing all this. He wants to believe so, but he hasn’t exactly seen any proof.

“Believe me, she’s more than earned it.” Billy replies, standing up as the rope is tied tightly across the back of the chair. “Besides, we can’t have her screaming her head off, or running to the neighbors for help. Then we’ll really be fucked.” He explains, rather annoyed with the look of  uncertainty on Carver’s face. “What’s up your ass?” Billy asks, stepping closer to his nervous friend.

“Nothing. I just hope you’re right. And that you know what you’re doing.” Jason says, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Have I ever steered you wrong before?” Billy poses the question curiously, gauging Jason’s reaction. He’d hate to have to add another hostage to this situation. Or another body.

“N-No.” Jason stutters, recognizing the coy, shark-like look in Billy’s eyes. The look that carries the threatening idea of ‘you’re either with me, or against me, and lord help you if you become my enemy’. “You’re right. Let’s do this.” Jason adds, nodding his head in confidence. He’s shaking in his boots on the inside, but he's in too deep to pussy out now.

“That’s what I like to hear.” Billy chuckles menacingly, proud that his partner in crime has made the wise decision to see things his way. He turns toward the men he’s rounded up in Jason’s house, and addresses them as a group. “Is everybody ready!?” He asks them, expecting a quick response.

“Yeah!” The men say in unison, brandishing their various weapons. Axes, ball bats, switchblades, brass knuckles for a couple of them, and Billy of course with his lethal new toy he swiped from his father’s safe. 

“Are we ready to send this bitch back to hell where she belongs!?” Billy asks, louder this time to rile them up.

“Yeah!” They respond as one once again, Jason included. 

“Then let’s fucking do it!” Billy cries, causing the men to break out into hoots and hollers. He looks over at Jason again, a slick smirk on his lips. “Now, all we gotta do is wait.” He says casually, the intent of cold-blooded murder settling deep within his veins.

As the moon rises on Halloween night, the time has finally come. The stage is set, the actors have taken their places, and the final act is ready to play out. All that’s left is for you to make your grand entrance. Billy, Jason, and their goons are hunkered down and armed to the teeth, with Max held captive under their close watch. You ride through town towards the house on Karma’s back, the crow perched on your shoulder, with Hopper following close behind in his truck.

The plan you’ve quickly concocted together goes as follows: You and Hopper will go to the Carver house, where you’ll make your way inside while Hopper waits outside and calls for backup. Cops will surround the place, and maybe even attempt to negotiate with Billy and Jason. Little will they know that you’re slicing and dicing your way through the men inside, rescuing Max in the process. You hope to slip out once the work is done, but that’s where things get complicated. Since every available officer will be forming an impenetrable wall around the house, Hopper will have to be the first one inside after the bloodbath. He’ll have to rely on timing, and maintain total control of the situation. Neither of which have been Jim’s strong suits, try as he might to exert complete authority. Tonight will be make or break. One wrong step, a single bad call, and it all goes to hell.

You pull up to the house, the moon shining down upon you through pitchy clouds as the sky threatens the entire town with rain. You kill Karma’s engine, Hop following suit with the truck. He gets out for a moment, walking over to you. “You sure you can handle this, kid? There’s a lot of angry, dangerous men in there, especially Billy.” He says with worry, wishing you’d let him come inside and help you take the fuckers out.

“I’m gonna be fine, Jim. They’re the ones that should be afraid.” You reply, glancing bitterly at the green-painted front door of the Carver residence. Just two more (or twelve, if it comes to that), and then this will all be over. You’ll be able to rest again, peacefully this time, and return to your love. 

“He has a gun, Y/N. I don’t want Max getting caught in the crossfire.” He presses, needing you to understand what you’re about to do, who you’re putting at risk.

“I know, Hop. I’m not gonna let them hurt her. She’ll get out in one piece, even if I don’t.” You say seriously, under no pretense that this third and final battle will leave you unscathed. Billy is calculating, and spry. Jason isn’t any less intimidating. And they’ve rounded up a small army, all of whom have the sole focus of putting you in the ground for the second time. 

“Okay.” He nods, though his gut still has all sorts of uneasy feelings about this.

“It’ll be fine. Just stick to the plan, and everything will work out fine.” You reassure him “I love you, Hop. Thanks, for everything.” You pull him in for a hug, which feels much more like a goodbye than either of you appreciate.

“Love you, too, kiddo. Go save our girl, and give those two shitheads my regards.” Jim smiles as he joins the embrace, though it would be nice if he didn’t ever have to let you go. It hurt enough the first time. But this is the way things are, and time is running out. It’s now or never, and he has no intention of denying you your bittersweet revenge.

“I will.” You say simply as you pull away. You think about verbalizing an actual farewell, but it would feel like a waste of words. You’ve said all you can, and the time for talking has long since passed. Now is the time for action. You exchange a small nod with the man, and turn away to head inside. You light up the last cigarette in the pack, tossing the empty box on the ground. You draw your twin knives, saving the switchblade for the final blow you intend to serve to Hargrove. It’s only polite to return the knife to its rightful owner, after all. You allow the rage to well up inside you as it has two times before, gearing up for a bloody fight as your feet clomp up the front steps. You take a deep breath as you meet the doormat, closing your eyes for a moment to gather yourself. “Let’s fucking finish this.” You say to yourself with purpose, a small encouraging caw leaving the crow. 

Without another second to lose, you lift up your right leg, and proceed to kick the front door right off its hinges. The wood splits off in a shatter of splinters, large chunks sliding across the floor into the foyer. You step through the threshold, finding the gang of men staring at you in disbelief in the living room to your left. “Sorry I’m late.” You say sarcastically, stalking into the room. The bird flies from your shoulder to perch on a nearby lamp, making the men duck as it swoops close to their heads. You take a large puff from your smoke, flicking the ash with the cig still planted between your lips. A neat trick Eddie showed you once, using one’s tongue to discard the ash when one’s hands are…preoccupied.

You take a good look around, finding Max first. She’s tied up similarly to the way you and Eddie were, but with tape pasted to her mouth. She’s got a wound on her head, from Billy, no doubt. It doesn’t look too serious, she’ll be alright once you get her out of here. You give her an assuring nod, letting her know you’ve got this under control. You leave her be once she nods back, gazing at each of the men who stand before you with weapons held in their sweaty hands. Most of them clearly don’t have the stomach for this, mob mentality or not. They’ll be easy enough to knock out. You’re not here to cause any unnecessary death. “Looks like quite the party.” You observe, perking up when you lay eyes on Jason and Billy standing at the far end of the room. “Hello, boys.” You greet them, a sickening smile spread across your lipstick-smudged mouth.

“I fucking knew you were back.” Billy growls, nudging Jason’s ribs. “What did I tell you?” He says to the other man.

“I can’t believe it.” Jason murmurs, ignoring the bruising jab of Billy’s elbow prodding at him. “This can't really be happening. It’s impossible!”

“Jesus Christ, not this song and dance again!” You groan, rolling your eyes. “Your eyes aren’t foolin’ ya, Carver! I’m back, and with a goddamn vengeance!” You explain as you laugh at his confusion. “Now that we’ve cleared that up, who’s first?” You ask, holding the knives up in your grasp. The light of the room glints off their steel blades, twinkling in the most threatening way. Without a word, about half the men Billy and Jason rounded up find themselves running out of the house, screaming in terror as they scramble to be the first to make it out the broken doorway and into the night to escape. “Well, that’s a shame. I was looking forward to a fair fight.” You play up a sigh as you watch the last one stumble through the exit. You turn back to find Billy storming over to you, nostrils flaring and gun poised in your direction.

“Enough of this shit!” He roars, pulling back the hammer of the pistol and firing a shot at you. It rings through the air, but you act quickly enough to raise your arm up so the bullet goes clean through your wrist.

“Fuck.” You grunt as it makes contact, searing hot and ripping through flesh and bone like it's nothing. Dark viscera oozes messily down your sleeve as you hold up the wound, waiting for the magic to happen and further frighten your adversaries. “Wanna see somethin’ cool?” You ask darkly, your smile returning as your stare into Billy’s angry eyes. He doesn’t say a thing, too enamored by the black sludge leaking from you to speak. Something isn’t right here, you’re not right. His fury morphs into fear as your wound closes itself up, bones regrowing and skin sealing the seams without leaving a trace. “Neat, huh?” You ask, taking a swipe at him with your left hand. Your blade makes clean contact with his bicep, slicing all the way down through the muscle.

“Shit!” Billy yelps, jumping back away from you as you attempt to land another blow. His hand tries to cover the deep wound, quickly becoming washed over in warm blood. “Get her!” He orders.

“Aw, did someone lose their nerve?” You pout playfully at him, not paying mind to the men who intend to rush you. You could take them out with your eyes closed and hand tied behind your back at this point. It’s almost boring. Almost. “Fine, fine. I’ll take care of your little lap dogs first. Save the best for last!” You shout as your blade stabs into the stomach of one of the men, ripping your arm across to make his innards spill out. He cries aloud in agony, failing to hold onto his slippery intestines as he falls to the floor with a thump. Your eyes stay glued to Jason and Billy as you work your way through their friends, lambs lead to slaughter by their former teammates. The second man tries to land a punch across your cheek, but you end up slashing his wrist wide open instead. You kick him swiftly in the chest, crushing his ribs and sending him flying across the room. He takes a glass coffee table with him on the way down, glass shattering and embedding inside of him in jagged shards. Weak wheezing can be heard from where he lands as he bleeds out, but the other men keep on coming. 

The last three try to tag-team you, armed with sharpened axes and knives. Without breaking a sweat, or the stare you’ve been maintaining this entire time, you block their blows one after another. You defend against heavy swings, the ching of blades zooming past your ears as they repeatedly miss. Kicks and punches are leisurely thwarted, the routine becoming quite predictable in a matter of seconds. Growing bored of playing with your proverbial food, you snatch one of the men into your grasp by shoving a knife into his arm, embedding deep into his flesh. He screams for mercy as you tug him closer, using your leverage to pull his arm back and snap it in two. His agony grows louder, like a wild animal caught in a trap. One of the others tries to get a swing in, but you use their captured friend as a shield to catch the blow. An ax blade lands deep within his chest, causing him to gurgle up blood and struggle for air. The other man pulls back, removing the ax and sending a spray of red all over the four of you. You remove your own knife from your prey with a clean spin, sending his body behind you into the foyer.

“Jesus Christ, she’s gonna kill us all.” Jason murmurs in realization, wishing he’d never agreed to this stupid plan.

“Not if we don’t let her. Go get that damn bird, there’s something weird about it.” Billy says to him, pointing in the corvid’s direction. It’s been watching this scene play out, with far more intelligence than he’s seen most birds have. Perhaps there’s something about it that’s tied to Y/N’s seemingly immortal constitution, though he thinks this over in much less complex terms.

“Why me? That thing gives me the creeps!” Jason retorts, shaking his head as the bird tilts its head at him. He doesn’t like the look in its onyx eyes, how it seems to be peering into his very soul.

“That’s the point! Now, go! I’ll take care of this crazy bitch.” Billy orders, shoving Jason toward the crow.

“Fine, fine. But if I get pecked, it’s your fault.” Jason says begrudgingly. 

While Jason attempts to catch your feathered friend, you’re busy slicing the throat of the second-to-last goon wide open. It’s not nearly as satisfying as Harrington’s was to cut, but it still fuels you to keep going nonetheless. These fuckers had a chance to run, to play no part in this. But they chose to stay, so their fates are sealed. You toss his body to the floor once his blood has left you soaking wet, left with one more to take down. “Let’s make this quick. I’ve got much more important things to take care of.” You toss a glance at the man you’re speaking to, recognizing him from last night. Patrick, you think his name is. “Guess the things I showed you weren’t enough to change anything, huh?” You ask, reminding him of the mind-melting torment you put him through.

“Hell no. You got what was coming to you.” Patrick seethes, holding up his ax once again. He’s coated head to toe in the blood of his friends, the wood handle of his weapon slick in his trembling hands. “You, and that pervert husband of yours.” He adds, rubbing salt in the wound.

“Don’t you dare talk about him!” You scream with rage, a switch flipping inside of you at his words. You stop fucking around, and ram both of your knives as deep into Patrick’s pathetic chest as you possibly can. The air is stolen from his lungs, quickly being replaced with blood to drown him. “Fuck you, you piece of shit!” You continue to yell as you drive him towards the wall. He slams into the floral wallpaper smearing ruby red all over the place. “Don’t you ever talk about him! Ever! Ever! Ever!” Your screams grow louder, more feral as you pull your blades out and shove them back into Patrick’s flesh over and over. Expletives fly from your lips, joined by jab after jab as you rip and tear him to shreds from the inside out. His torso nearly looks like raw hamburger by the time you’re through. You pull the knives out one final time, and his lifeless body slides down the wall, leaving a trail of viscera behind.

“Gotcha!” Jason says as he lunges for the crow, just barely catching it in his hands. It squawks and caws, flapping its wings wildly at being captured. “I got it! I got it!” He cheers, bringing it over to Billy.

“Well, at least you're good for something, Carver.” Billy chuckles, patting his friend on the shoulder condescendingly. 

“Whatever, just take the damn thing.” Jason shoves the crow his way, not wanting to hold it any longer.

“No, hold it still. I’ll take care of the little fucker.” Billy barks, holding his gun up to aim it at the bird’s head.

“What are you, crazy? What if you shoot me?” Jason protests, struggling to keep a hold of the crow, its talons scratching relentlessly at his hands.

“I’m not gonna shoot you, dammit! Just keep it still!” Billy yells, pulling the hammer back on the weapon.

“Let the bird go!” You shout in their direction, stomping over with the bloody knives still in your hands.

“No way! It’s got somethin’ to do with why you’re…like that. And I’m not fighting an undead, satanic bitch if I have anything to say about it!” Hargrove shakes his head, training the barrel of the pistol at the crow’s head. It gives you a sullen look, accepting its fate.

“No, don’t!” You scream as Billy pulls the trigger, hitting the corvid point-blank in its tiny skull. You fall to your knees, sensing your being becoming less impervious and more…mortal. You feel the connection between you and the bird become lost, leaving you to fend for yourself. It falls lifeless in Jason’s grip, and he yelps as he drops its body on the floor.

“Jesus! I told you not to do that! The bullet could’ve gone straight through and hit me!” Jason smacks Billy in the chest, his ears ringing from the shot.

“Stop bein’ such a baby! You’re fine, and the damn bird is dead! Mission accomplished!” Billy shoves him back, his words coming out frantic and gleeful. “Now we can kill the fucking whore!” He laughs, turning to look at you now. “Bring it on, Witch Bitch. I’m lookin’ forward to round two.” He jeers at you, grabbing at his crotch with his free hand.

“Careful what you wish for, Hargrove. You just might get it.” You pant, slowly returning to your feet.

Suddenly, you hear the wail of sirens outside. Backup has officially arrived. Right on schedule. “This is Hawkins Police. We have you surrounded. Let the girl go, and come out with your hands up!” You hear Hopper’s voice boom through his megaphone. The signal to finish this shit and get the hell out of here. Easier said than done when the one thing keeping you safe had its brains splattered on the living room floor.

“Looks like our time is almost up, boys. Let’s get this over with.” You say, refreshing your grip on your twin blades.

“Gladly.” Billy growls, and he and Jason run towards you, a determined battle cry leaving their heaving chests. 

Though your immunity to injury has been stripped from you, it appears your strength and reflexes are here to stay, for the time being. You drop to your knees, and stick one leg out to trip the men as they charge you. They go tumbling over your extended limb, landing hard on the wood floor. You decide to go after Jason first, he’s got less fight in him than Billy by a mile. You swing yourself around on your knees, straddling him just as he manages to turn over onto his back. “Sorry, Carver. You’re up first.” You say as your thighs pin him to the ground, though he tries to squirm beneath you.

“Billy! Help me, goddammit!” Jason shrieks, turning his head to look at Billy, who’s currently rubbing his bleeding, bruising head that smacked right into the thick leg of his father’s antique writing desk. “Shit.” He mutters, watching his friend groan in pain as a concussion takes hold. 

“Hargrove can’t help you now.” You say to the sniveling man below you, drawing his terror-filled eyes your way. “I’d say something clever before I kill you, but I’m fresh out of one-liners at the moment.” You shrug, taking your time in deciding where to bury your knives inside Jason’s trembling body. You’d hate to repeat your previous work, that would just be sloppy. 

“What are you doing? Just get it over with already!” Jason whimpers, his lip quivering. He’s accepted his fate, wondering if perhaps he deserves this. After all he’s done, satanic panic or not, he has blood on his hands. 

“What’s the rush? It’ll be a minute before Billy boy gets up, and I wanna make this count. It’s only fair, don’t you think?” You lean down towards his face as you speak, another sickly grin sprouting from your lips. “Is someone regretting their sins, Jason? Are you worried that you’ll burn in hell for what you’ve done?” You ask mockingly, running the edge of the blade along his chest.

“Y-Yes.” Jason stutters, tears rolling down his face as he nods.

“Well, you’re about to find out.” You say, lowering yourself further to plant a kiss on his cheek. Just like the others. He gasps at the touch of your cold lips of his flesh, a shiver running down his spine. The kiss of death. The thought passes fleetingly as you plunge the knives straight through Jason’s eyes, which burst like grapes once the blades pierce into his skull. His body falls still instantly, his head lolling to the side. The handle of one of the knives taps against the floor, the final sound he’ll ever make. You climb off of his body, wiping away a piece of eye goo that was flung onto your cheek from the impact. You look over at Billy, who’s managed to sit up against the wall now. A gash on his forehead bleeds and throbs, and it appears he’s gotten sick on himself from the injury. You go over to him slowly, crinkling your nose at the sight and stench of vomit on his chest and lap. “Get up.” You kick his thigh with your foot, ready to get this last bit over with. You pull his old switchblade from your pocket, clicking it open for the first time. “I’ve got something that belongs to you. Figured you'd want it back.” Your words draw his dizzy gaze your way, and you display the knife for him to get a good look. “I’m sure you recognize this little beauty, I know I do.” You say gleefully. “I ought to, since you stabbed me with it so many damn times.” 

“And I’ll stab you with it plenty more.” Billy says with a groan, his words slurring. He’s in much worse shape than you were hoping for. It’s a bit sad now, battling an already wounded animal like himself. But concussion or not, he’ll get what’s coming to him. He stumbles as he stands, bending over to throw up a second time. It lands wetly on the floor, mixing with the many pools of blood you’ve made. He wipes his mouth once he’s finished, lurching closer to you as you back away.

“Come on then, Hargrove. Show me what you got.” You beckon him closer, curling your fingers in a challenging gesture.

“I’m gonna kick your ass, Munson. I’ll make you wish you never came back here.” He replies, his steps evening out as he regains what composure he has left. He completely forgets about the gun he has in his hand, running straight for you. His speed takes you by surprise, his free hand quickly grabbing your throat. He leads you back into a wall, which cracks behind you at the force. You grab at his hand, trying to break yourself free from his grasp. But your strength is fading, time is running out. “You’re gonna be beggin’ me to kill you by the time I’m done.” He says through clenched teeth, squeezing harder on your throat. He doesn’t plan to kill you, not yet. He’ll bring you right up to the edge of death, a good few times if he feels like it. He wants to draw it out, just like last time. 

You gasp for air, punching at his thick fingers to make him let go. But he doesn’t. He won’t. You can hear Max screaming through the tape on her mouth, pleading at Billy to stop. You look at her from across the room, just in case you won’t be able to see her again, in case you end up losing after all. A tear rolls down your cheek, and you’re nearly ready to give up. You’ve fought so hard, to get justice for yourself, for Eddie. It was a valiant effort, even if this is the end of the line. At least you’ll know you tried, that someone fought for the two of you. Max and Hopper will know that, too, and they’ll rest much easier for it.

“Ow! What the fuck!?” Billy yells as something is suddenly attacking him from behind. You can see flapping black feathers behind his back, your eyes widening in surprise to see the crow alive and kicking once again. Billy’s grip loosens on your neck, the crow attaching itself to his back with its claws, its beak pecking away at his neck and head. “Get off me, you stupid bird! I thought I killed you!” He tries to reach back and swat at the bird, but it only earns him more pecks on the arms. 

You don’t waste a second as the crow helps keep him distracted, following him as he goes backwards in frantic steps. You hold up the switchblade, watching Billy struggle with the corvid as it makes more small wounds on his flesh. You remind yourself of all the harm he caused you, how he took your love from you, violated your body with his disgusting friends. You’re not going to hold back, this one if for fucking keeps. “Hey, Billy!” You shout, wanting him to look at you when you land the blow.

“Fuck.” He murmurs when he sees you, aimed and ready to deliver his knife back to him as promised. The crow pulls off of him, leaving no time for Billy to react.

“Happy Halloween, motherfucker!” You cry out, ramming the blade right between his ribs and into his heart.

“Shit.” Billy gasps, trying to cover the rapidly bleeding wound with his hand. You keep your grip on the handle of the switchblade, watching the river of blood flow from his chest. You hear the tell-tale gurgles of fluid filling his lungs, smirking as ruby red trickles from Billy’s mouth. He struggles to speak, choking on his own blood. “F-Fuck you, Witch Bitch.” He manages to get the words out, a small smile rising on his own lips.

“Not in your wildest dreams.” You slowly shake your head, and twist the knife within his chest. A pained gasp leaves him, before he goes completely still. You give him a kiss as you’ve done with the others, marking the end of your blood-soaked journey. Your gaze follows him as he falls to the floor, making seven bodies you’re leaving in your wake. With the job done, you can do the one thing you’ve wanted to do since you arrived, untie Max. You rush over to her, kneeling behind her chair to undo the ropes. “I’ve got you, sweetie. Just hold on.” You reassure her as she squirms in her bindings. You manage to get to ropes undone quickly, coming around to the other side to take the tape off her mouth. You peel it off as carefully as you can, leaving only slightly-irritated skin behind on Max’s face. “You okay?” You ask her, realizing she just had to watch you kill seven men right in front of her. 

“Yeah. I’m fine.” Max nods, seemingly unfazed by the carnage. Blame it on MTV.

“I’m sorry you had to see all that.” You say in remorse, stroking her arms with your bloodied hands. The last thing you wanted was for her to witness all of this, to see what you had to do. It’s not right.

“It’s fine, Y/N, really.” Max insists, throwing herself into your arms, hugging you tightly. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Me too. C’mon, let’s get out of here.” You give her a gentle squeeze back, and pull away to stand up. She follows suit, taking your hand as you lead her out of the house. Cops have swarmed around the house entirely, their guns all pointed at you as you step outside. A couple officers approach you, taking Max from you and throwing a blanket over her shoulders. She looks at you in fear, but you give her a nod that it’s okay. The medic needs to check out the nasty gash Billy gave her anyway. You walk further into the group of officers, ignoring their questions and bewildered looks. A rather large crowd has gathered behind the marked police line, almost everyone in town has shown up to see what the hell is going on. Some are kids in costumes, their trick-or-treating interrupted by the situation that’s unfolded. Others are concerned parents in work clothes and bathrobes, pointing fingers in your direction. Nothing you haven’t gotten used to. News crews sit off to the side, reporting what little details Hopper has given them about the situation.

“It’s the killer!” A woman screams in the crowd. Her words stop you in your tracks, your eyes finding Hopper’s immediately. His own are blown wide, and both of you know what’s about to happen. All hell is breaking loose. More voices join the first, accusations thrown your way, putting the officers on alert. 

Time slows down as you turn to try and run away, ignoring the cops telling you to stop. They keep calling after you, chasing behind as your feet carry you back across the front yard. “No, let her go! Stop! Stand down!” Hopper tries to order the officers to let you go, but he’s drowned out by the mob calling for your head. One of the officers pulls the trigger on his weapon that’s aimed right at you, the shot ringing clear through the air, silencing the crowd as the bullet makes contact with the back of your ribs. “No!” Hopper yells, pushing his way through to try and help you. 

You stumble forward onto your knees, your breath stolen away as you can feel blood pooling both inside and out of your body. You can hear more cops approaching you, their shoes trampling on dead leaves. You struggle for breath, scrambling onto your feet. You have to get out of here, to the cemetery. The crow has to lead you back there, or this was all for nothing. You start to run again, lurching forward, forcing your body to keep moving despite the horrid pain you feel. It’s nothing compared to what you endured at the start of all this, and you’ll be damned if you’re gonna let one lousy bullet be your undoing. You keep a good pace to the back of the house, ignoring any other calls for you to freeze, paying no mind to the weapons held and pointed your way.

“Stand down, dammit! Stand down! Let her go!” Hopper bellows over the megaphone, running to the backyard as he repeats his orders. He sees you slip past the open fence, letting out a sigh of relief that his underlings listened for once. “Good job, kid.” He says softly to himself, before turning back to direct the cavalry to go inside the house and assess the scene. Hopper, on the other hand, intends to meet you at the cemetery with Max to say goodbye. He only hopes you don’t bleed out before then.

The journey back to the cemetery is almost as grueling as the trip out of it was, a trail of blood being left behind as you stumble down the sidewalk. The crow flies overhead, doing what little it can to encourage you to keep going. You still have no idea how it came back to life in the first place, you saw its head get blown off and everything. You do wish its resurrection would have returned certain healing properties to you, but it seems you’re on your own in this respect. You will yourself to soldier on, to make your final stop before you can rest once more. Almost there, you tell yourself as the first row of headstones begins to appear in the distance, like crooked teeth in a gaping mouth waiting to swallow you up once again. Storm clouds rumble overhead, and you could stand to have them rain their cold showers upon you right now. To wash away all this blood, to numb the pain searing through your chest every time you take a step or dare to breathe too deeply.

Your wish is granted once you reach the graveyard, a streak of lightning piercing the sky as icy water begins to fall on Hawkins, though far gentler this time around. You sigh in relief, grunting in pain afterwards as your lungs attempt to fold and expand with much difficulty. You keep walking, trailing through rows of stained stones until you find the crack in the earth you crawled out of last night. The crow perches on your gravestone as it did when it awoke you, bowing its head one last time. It’s job is done, and so is yours. You allow yourself to collapse onto the grass, no longer needing the use of your legs, or much else. Your eyes drift closed, waiting for the sweet release of death to wash over you. It shouldn’t be much longer, and then you’ll be free.

“Y/N!” You hear Hopper call to you from a few rows over, causing your eyes to snap open. You sit up, crying out in agony as you do so. “Y/N.” Hooper repeats, softer this time as he approaches. “I’m sorry, I tried to stop them.” He apologizes, peering down at the damage. The bullet went clean through, leaving a round hole in your flesh.

“It’s fine, Hop. You did more than enough.” You say through a groan. You notice Max is with him, your eyes softening at her presence. Of course she needs a proper goodbye, how silly of you to forget. “Hey, kid.” You smile at her, and she comes closer to kneel beside you.

“Hey.” She says, reciprocating your cheery expression, though she feels far from happy. She doesn’t want to lose you again. “Does it hurt?” She asks, looking at your wound nervously. The skin around it is red and angry, blood washing away faster than it can bleed out of you with all this rain.

“Oh, yeah. Like a bitch.” You chuckle, which turns into a rough cough. “I don’t think I have much longer.” You add.

“They got you pretty good.” Hopper says gravely.

“I don’t want you to die! You did that already! It’s not fair!” Max protests, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“I know, Max. I don’t wanna leave you guys, either. But I have to. It’s the way things are.” You speak as clearly as you can, ignoring the urge to cough until blood comes up your throat. “Hey.” You raise a hand to cup her cheek, stroking it with your thumb. “It’ll be alright. You and Hop have each other. And you have all the memories of me and Eddie to remember us by. Okay?” You say softly.

“Okay.” Max nods, taking hold of Jim’s hand. You lower yours to hold her other one, closing the circle by taking Hopper’s other hand in your own. The three of you sit here a moment, getting soaked to the bone by the rain, quiet tears leaving all of your eyes as life slowly drains from you.

“Think I can take it from here, you two.” A familiar voice says from behind your friends. Your vision is hazy from the blood loss, but you can make out that mess of curls and infectious smile anywhere.

“Eddie?” You ask in disbelief, the others turning around to find your husband standing behind them, his gentle hands resting on their shoulders. A faint light glows behind him, forming a halo of white around his body. He’s untouched by the rain, his hair and clothes dry as can be.

“It’s time to go home, sweetheart.” Eddie says, his words sweet and loving. A sound you’ve longed to hear for what feels like centuries. He steps between Hopper and Max, extending his hand to you. You reach out for it, and he lifts you onto your feet with no effort at all. He leans in close, planting a kiss to your lips. You reciprocate it, more tears rolling down your face at feeling him again. It’s like no kiss you’ve ever had before, healing you from the inside out, taking away the heartache and suffering, leaving only love and happiness in their place. The pain is gone as you pull away, as well as the mess you’ve made of yourself. You’re back to how you once were, beautiful and clean. “Ready, babydoll?” He asks, gesturing at the bright light he appeared from. 

“Yes, my love.” You share a loving smile, giving a little wave to Max and Hopper as you return to the land of the dead with Eddie. You walk together into the light, disappearing from view shortly after. You’ll spend eternity in bliss, no longer plagued by the bitter torment life thrust upon you. You know what they say, it can’t rain all the time.

The End.

A/N: I just want to pop in and thank everyone for reading this story. I put a lot of blood, sweat, and tears into it! Happy Spooky Season, everyone. I'll see you round on the next project! - Hippie <3

[221beloved]

Bet, Game, Contest

(Link to ao3)

The door to Greg’s office opened and Sally Donovan’s head appeared.

“Greg, we have a--”

She stopped, taking in the scene displaying itself in the office. Greg was sitting leaned back in his chair, arms crossed in front of his chest, watching his two visitors with an exasperated expression. Said two visitors were looking back at him blankly, or rather, petulantly, just occasionally glaring at each other form the side.

“What…” Donovan frowned at Greg, who sighed and got up.

“Come on, I’ll get myself a coffee. God knows I deserve one.”

Sally took a last look back at John and Sherlock, still just looking straight ahead, then followed him to the little kitchenette.

“Well?” Sally prompted, and Greg shook his head, pouring hot water over his instant coffee.

“Actually they came to give their statements on the last case, but somehow they got off topic. From a certain point I couldn’t follow what they were on about, something about who can or cannot resist to express their, err, sentiment, verbally. Or something like that. Doesn’t matter, anyway. Outcome is that they’re having some kind of bet, or contest, I don’t know, about who’s able to stay silent longer.”

“What?” Sally was giving him an unbelieving stare.

“Yes,” Greg sighed, running a hand over his face.

“I’ve tried talking them out of it, pointless. I think I just spent 10 minutes of my work day staring at them. Well, you never get anything done when Sherlock is involved. Should know this by now…”

He took a sip from his coffee, scowled in distaste of this… mud. He turned towards Sally.

“What did you want?”

She blinked at him. “I think you have a more difficult problem at the moment, it can wait… I’ll just come to you later again.”

She turned to leave. “Good luck with them!” she called over her shoulder.

“Thanks,” Greg muttered under his breath, emptied his cup and made his way back to his office.

Sherlock and John were still sitting motionlessly on their chairs, not looking at each other. At least not directly.

“Well,” Greg sat down on his own chair and propped his elbows up on the desk. Maybe he had just the solution to get them to talk again. Attack them at their weakest point. A little dirty, maybe, but appropriate, considering their current situation.

“You know,” Greg said to no one specifically, “In moments like these I have to wonder if you actually are a couple. I mean, you’re supposed to love each other, only I just can’t see--”

He didn’t come much further.

“You take that back!” John and Sherlock bellowed simultaneously, glaring daggers at him.

Greg leaned back in his chair, smiling, just barely suppressing a relieved sigh.

John was the first to realise what just happened and he pulled his head back in something like surprise, then turned to look at Sherlock. The detective was glaring at Greg for a bit longer, probably just for the sake of it, before his eyes went wide too and he turned to return John’s gaze.

“Well,” Greg shrugged, “What a pity your little contest ended like that.”

His voice was probably dripping with sarcasm.

“But since we’ve accomplished that you’re equal on this matter, can we return to the case now? Some of us have things to do that are actually important.”

John looked at him a little sheepishly and nodded, while Sherlock scowled at him.

“You manipulated the outcome, we’ve established nothing.”

Greg sighed. “You can establish as much and for as long as you want when we’re done here. Can we focus now?”

Sherlock grumbled something unintelligible but nodded eventually.

As Greg pulled over the abandoned file, he could just see John’s hand creeping to the side to take Sherlock’s. Greg rolled his eyes. Those ridiculous, lovesick nutters.

--

Please tell me if you want to be added or removed from the list!

@flufftober @meetinginsamarra @a-victorian-girl @lisbeth-kk @topsyturvy-turtely

@keirgreeneyes @the-reading-lemon @totallysilvergirl @helloliriels @221bug

@quiscustodiet @willamholmeswatson

[vodika-vibes]

Hey vodika!

Congrats on your follower milestone!

Could I request f!Jedi reader x Sev

Garnet

Autumn evening

Thank you! Love you! Xx

Forever

Summary: Of all of the things that Sev hates in the universe, watching his Jedi get hurt tops the list.

Pairing: Clone Commando Sev x Reader

Word Count: 777

Warnings: Reader is seriously injured here, though I didn't detail how she was hurt. Reader is described as formerly having long hair.

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So, I tried my best with this, but it's not easy to write when you can't focus for longer than a few minutes at a time. I'm sorry if it's not quite what you wanted. If you don't like it you can send another request and I'll write something when I'm not sick.

Sev knows that he’s not the gentlest of men. He knows that he’s quick to anger and that he enjoys violence just a little too much for most people to want to put up with. Sure, his own batchmates know that sometimes he says those things simply because it gets reactions.

But most of their brothers don’t.

He doesn’t mind it. He gets along better with his batchmates over anyone else anyway. Well, his batchmates and their jedi.

His Jedi.

She was a surprise addition to Delta Squad shortly after the war began. Someone who was supposed to manage their mission loads and help them so they could take more dangerous missions. 

And she quickly integrated herself into Delta Squad. She was careful to not step on Boss’ toes, listened to Scorch’s jokes, redirected Fixer when he was being his most ornery, and was able to temper the worst of his temper.

How could Sev not fall in love with her?

And Sev has never been the type of man to tiptoe around things like feelings, so he told her as soon as he knew that he loved her. He fully expected her to turn him down, but she surprised him by releasing a musical laugh, and agreeing to go on a date with him to see where this leads.

That was nearly a year ago now, and somehow Sev is still able to claim her as his girlfriend. Somehow, because he thought for sure that she would kick him to the curb months ago.

His gaze drifts from his rifle, which he’s been cleaning, to his Jedi.

They’re holed up in a Jedi Safehouse, and his brothers are out trying to find a way off this planet, while Sev chose to remain behind to look after their barely conscious Jedi. 

It’s a shame she hasn’t been able to enjoy the planet properly. His Jedi loves this type of weather, when it’s cool and the leaves have started to change. Sweater weather, she calls it.

Though, she’s not saying much of anything at the moment.

She’s nearly gray-faced, and her layers of robes have been removed and replaced by bandages. Her hair had been shorn into a much shorter style, due to the sheer amount of matting that they hadn’t been able to fix-

And then she stirs, her fingers flexing against the thick blanket granting her some modesty.

Sev swallows hard and sets his rifle to the side, before he stands and walks over to her carefully settling himself on the floor near her cot. Her pretty eyes flutter open and focus on his face, “Sev-” She mumbles his name, and she lifts her hand, which he catches and threads her fingers with his own.

“Hey there, Pretty Girl.” He replies, “Welcome back to the land of the living.”

“-where?”

“We’re still on the same planet,” He explains as he gently squeezes her hand, “The others are out looking for a way out.”

She tries to sit up, but Sev is quick to push her back prone, “I should be helping them-”

“You need to rest.” Sev insists. 

“But, it’s not safe.” She tries.

“Hey,” He waits until her pretty eyes are locked on him, “No one here is going to hurt them. We’ve already killed anyone who might try.”

She blinks at him.

Sev smiles wryly and he brings his free hand up to rest against her bruised face, “They had you, cyar’ika. They had you and they were hurting you, there was no other option.”

She sighs softly, and she turns her head to kiss the palm of his hand, “I don’t deserve you.” she mumbles.

Sev just laughs, “I think that’s supposed to be my line.” All of the tension has drained from his body now that she’s awake and talking, “You deserve far better than me. It’s a shame that I’m not so good a person to just walk away and let another person have you.”

She lightly squeezes his fingers, “All I want is you, though.”

“You have terrible taste in men.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Slowly, Sev brushes some of her hair out of her face, “No one is ever going to hurt you again, cyar’ika. I promise.”

She smiles at him, soft and warm, and Sev leans in to press his lips lightly against hers, pulling away just as quickly as he leaned in. “Now, get some more rest. As soon as we have a ship, you’re going to take a nap in a bacta tank.”

She just sighs, “Will you stay?”

Sev brings their joined hands to his lips, and presses a light kiss to her knuckles, “Forever.”

[blueskylinesx]

Tomato Red - Chapter Two

Parings: Jesse Cash x Female Reader

Warnings/Triggers: Language, talks about relationship traumas/abuse, mother/father relationships, mentions of cheating, anxiety, nervousness/panicky behavior, self doubt, fluff, sexual tension.

Summary: The local cafe/bookstore down the street was Jesse's usual hang out spot where he spent hours reading books and working on music. Until one day when he meets a new barista working the bookstore cafe. Suddenly, Jesse's reasons for visiting the bookstore down the road were no longer just for reading and work... but were suddenly meant for much more.

Author's Note: This GIF took me forever to get right.. Tumblr gave me the hardest time BUT I was determined to make it work. I feel like it really captures Jesse's fidgetiness and anxiety that I tried to portray in this chapter. This one was a super fun one to write and I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do. The story is just beginning ya'll, buckle in! Please feel free to share your thoughts! :)

The orange scones were heavily inspired by @thefallennightmare 's story "Just Pretend." IF you somehow haven't read it yet, do yourself the favor and exit out of this and go read it right now. Seriously. Thank you SO much again Tina for giving me the okay to add Jesse's fruit addiction to Tomato Red. You're the sweetest ever and I'm honored to have a little piece of Just Pretend be apart of this story.

I'm also trying to work on putting together a little master list so that all these chapters will be in one place that's easier to navigate for everyone. Thank you all for baring with me while I fought to get this chapter up. <3

Tags: @thefallennightmare @thatchickwiththecamera @xxkittenkissesxx @arkiliastuff @lma1986 @cncohshit @collidewiththesav

If you would like to be added to the tags list please let me know! I would be happy to do so! Thank you all for your support and for reading these. <3

READER

I rolled over on my side to shut off the alarm that loudly echoed from my phone which sat on my bedside nightstand. Pulling the charger cord out and letting it fall onto the floor, I dismissed the alarm and let out a long sigh. 5:00 am right on the dot.

I had to be at the cafe early this morning to help Kate bake the first few rounds of pastries for the front display case. Normally Kate could handle the morning bake load by herself. But, with it being so busy lately she asked me to start coming in a few times a week to help out since having to increase the morning bake amount.

I brushed the messy strands of hair away from my face and pulled the covers off of me to fully sit up in bed. I let out a long yawn and rubbed my eyes before finally stepping out into the cold air of my bedroom. 

Kate always kept the AC in the apartment on the temperature of Alaska and although I’ve lived with her for a little over a year, my Floridian blood still wasn’t used to it. Goosebumps lined both my arms and legs and I quickly rushed over to my dresser to remove the oversized shirt I had slept in. I then threw on a pair of black leggings followed by a pair of gray high socks, my white bra, and an oversized dark green sweatshirt.

I then made my way over to my bathroom within a few steps and ran my hand along the wall to find the light switch. With a loud click from flipping the switch up, the sudden brightness filled the room and caused my eyes to squint.

Taking a second for my eyes to adjust, I reached over to the side mirror on the wall and pulled out my toothbrush and toothpaste. With my toothbrush pushed to the side of my mouth I lazily threw my hair up in a messy bun. Not having the energy to put in the effort to do anything cute with it, other than potentially seeing the cutie from last night, and then finishing it off with a few sprays of dry shampoo, just in case.

Shaking the thought from my mind, I finished brushing my teeth with a quick gargle of mouthwash and then made my way back into my room to throw on my pair of black high top converse and sprayed myself with my usual coconut vanilla body mist.

I grabbed my purse off of the hook that hung on the back of my bedroom door, closing it behind me, and finally made my way out of the long hallway and into the front room of mine and Kate’s apartment. 

Stopping right before the front door to grab my car keys from the small side table and double checking to make sure I had my phone and cafe key on me. With everything in place, I reached for the front door handle and stepped out into the gray, dim, overcast LA weather. Feeling the breeze blow around the loose strands of my bun while I turned to lock the door behind me.

Taking in the fresh cool air as it swept across my nose I headed down the two flights of stairs, making my way to the parking lot, and finally into my car. Before inserting my key into the ignition I lifted my butt slightly above my seat to pull my phone out from my back pocket. Sitting back down and unlocking the screen to search for Kate and mine’s thread of text messages.

I quickly typed out, “Hey, currently in the car and on my way now. I made sure to leave a few minutes early today so you wouldn’t put me in a chokehold the second I walked through the door if I was late again. See you soon. Love you.” and then clicked send before starting my car and finally heading out of the parking lot. 

READER

I pulled into the back parking lot of the cafe and parked next to Kate’s blue Mini Cooper, which was the only other car in the lot. The cafe didn’t open until seven and since it was still pretty early the rest of the cafe crew hadn’t shown up yet. 

I shut the car off and reached over to the passenger seat to grab my purse and the rest of my belongings before stepping out of the car. I then headed towards the back door of the cafe and clicked the lock button on my car remote twice as the two car beeps echoed through the parking lot back to me. 

Inserting my cafe key into the lock and using a little bit of force to push the old wooden door open I was greeted by the warm heat that filled the air from the ovens and the sweet aroma of the fresh baked pastries Kate had been working on all morning.

“About time you showed up, I was wondering if you may have hit your snooze button a few extra times this morning.” I heard Kate call out from over by the bakers table.

Glancing down at my phone to check the time that now showed 5:47am, “What do you mean about time? I literally rushed out of the house so fast this morning you would have been proud. Plus you said to get here around six and I’m exactly thirteen minutes early, thank you very much”. I responded back while making my way over to her.

Flour, bowls of mixed pastry batter, baking utensils both clean and coated in all kinds of different pastry mix, and baking pans all covered the table before me. Kate had been here since four and it definitely showed from the mess that also coated her apron. She even managed to get some flour in the ends of her ponytail and on her face.

“Had a little accident this morning, did we?” I asked while swiping my finger across her cheek to scoop up some of the loose flower from her face.

“This mixer is crazy! I don’t know if it’s acting out in retaliation from the use and abuse I’ve been putting this thing through lately… but here I was rolling cinnamon rolls and when I had walked over to check the next batch of dough, the bowl about flew off the stand and threw flower all over the place, as you can clearly see.” Kate said while huffing her hair out of her face with a forceful sigh.

“Well I’ve come to your rescue! Where would you like me to start boss?” I replied with a snicker while pulling my apron strings into a tight knot around my waist.

“First and most importantly, can you bring me my iced coffee and hold it up to me so I can get a sip? I am in desperate need of rejuvenation.”  Kate asked while continuing to roll out the cinnamon rolls before her. “Then if you could start on the orange scones I would be forever in your debt.”

“Wow the orange scones huh? Normally those are your babies, are you suuure you want me to be making the tried and true orange scones? Afterall, I mean I know how particular you are -” 

“Oh shut up and just bring me my iced coffee you brat.” Kate said with a playful laugh.

I held the cup of iced coffee up to Kate’s mouth and she eagerly started sipping away at the half melted liquid inside. I went to set the cup back down on the table after she pulled away but not before noticing the strange look that she was suddenly giving me.

“What?” I asked.

“You’re oddly cheery this morning, normally when you come in you’re quiet and a little grumpy. But today you’re talkative and even have a sort of glow to you. You even texted me before you left home... Did I miss something somewhere from when I last saw you after yesterday’s crazy morning rush?” Kate replied while tapping her finger to her chin.

I could feel my cheeks suddenly getting warm and a rush of nervousness suddenly hit the inside of my stomach like a tsunami. Did Kristina say something to her about last night? I wondered.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m just saying as your sister, I know when something is different about you. I even got a whiff of your dry shampoo while you were standing next to me with my coffee. Which for you to put dry shampoo in your hair at five in the morning… is a pretty big deal.”

Rolling my eyes and shifting in my shoes I adjusted my apron and smoothed it down over my waist and legs. I was hesitant to respond to Kate’s assumptions. Not because she was wrong or because she’s always had an annoyingly accurate attention to detail. But because I was scared of the reaction I might get from her.

Kate was older than me by five years and she always sort of took on a motherly role even when we were kids. Our mom was hardly present while we were growing up. Her and our father divorced and separated shortly after our dad started going out of town for months at a time for work. He was in the military and was constantly having to leave and would sometimes be gone for almost an entire year. Our mom did the best she could but couldn’t handle the stress of being the one to handle it all by herself while our dad was away. 

When he was home, they were constantly fighting and my sister was always trying to pick up the pieces. Not only for both of our parents but for me as well. When our parents finally decided to divorce and our father moved to North Carolina, our mother quickly grew lonely and would often try to desperately fill the void of our father in whatever man she could at the time. 

This resulted in her constantly bringing multiple men back to the house all throughout our childhood and her focus became more on whatever boyfriend she had for that short period of time, until something would happen and she’d be forced to move on to the next one. Which is probably why now both mine and Kate’s opinions on love is so fucked up.

…And is also probably why I stayed in my previous relationship for three years with my toxic ex boyfriend back in Florida. From the first month we were together, Kate picked up on all of Jake’s red flags while I was too mesmerized by the first boy that treated me with the bare minimum of what I thought was love.

The three years we lasted together Kate begged me throughout the entire relationship to cut things off but I was too scared of losing something that I thought I’d never find again. Regardless of how horrible it made me feel. It didn’t matter because I was young, dumb, and so blinded by the extremely little good moments me and Jake shared. Which casted such dark shadows over the actual reality of the entire relationship. 

When Kate first moved to California to start college, I moved in with Jake shortly after graduating high school so I wouldn’t have to deal with living with our mother by myself. But it only lasted for about a year before I caught Jake cheating on me with some girl he worked with. Which resulted in a loud screaming fight and me kicking all his shit out of the apartment. 

That same night after everything happened I broke down and called Kate and without zero hesitation she was on a plane to Florida the next day to help me pack my stuff to come move in with her in LA. Something that I’ll forever be grateful for, and the fact that she was always there to help me pick up the pieces when I couldn’t do it by myself.

But I knew if I mentioned my encounter with Jesse from last night, Kate would most likely give me shit for it. Which is why I was so nervous to mention it to her. I also knew that I couldn’t avoid her forever, especially when she was already picking up suspicions and I had just met the man last night. 

But, deep down I was eager to share my excitement about meeting him and wanted to get a second opinion on the conversation we had.

Fuck it.

I let out a deep sigh and tucked the few pieces of loose stray hairs that clung to the side of my face behind my ear. “I hate how you always know everything. I swear you’re a witch or something.” I said nervously while clearing a space on the baking table so I could begin prepping the orange scones.

“I’m your sister and we’ve lived together for basically our entire lives Y/N. I know when something is up or when you’re acting differently. That’s how I knew it was always you who would drink my capri suns, even though you would always blame mom. It was all over your face and you’ve always been bad at hiding shit.” Kate replied with a light chuckle.

“Promise me you won’t be mad?”

Suddenly halting in place, Kate immediately turned her head in my direction. “Please tell me you’re not talking with Jake again.”

“Oh God no, definitely not.”

Letting out a long sigh of relief, Kate turned back down to finish icing the rest of the cinnamon rolls on the tray in front of her before grabbing another rack to work on. 

“Thank the Heavens, you about gave me a damn heart attack. If it has nothing to do with that idiot, moron, piece of garbage, then I can’t think of a reason as to why I would be mad Y/N.” 

“Okay soooo,” I started with a long pause. “A really, really, really cute guy came into the cafe last night while me and Kristina were closing. I probably wouldn’t have even known he was there if it wasn’t for Kristina calling me up to the register to help show her how to cash out a card transaction.”

I glanced over at Kate in an attempt to read her body language. She wasn’t giving off any signs that raised any flags yet so I continued to describe my interaction from last night.

“Well anyways, I had also seen him earlier in the day during our morning rush when I had to go out and refill the cinnamon rolls…”

“Was it the same guy who I caught checking out your ass when you walked past him by chance?” Kate suddenly interrupted. 

Feeling the heat suddenly returning to my cheeks I glanced back over at Kate with wide eyes. 

“Wait, you caught him staring at my ass?”

“Uh yeah, he wasn’t exactly discreet about it. Pretty sure he knew I busted him because when he came up to the register he was all fidgety and nervous. Handed me his debit card with shaky hands too.”

For some reason Kate telling me how she picked up on Jesse’s nervousness suddenly made me feel a bit more at ease. I was so nervous and embarrassed yesterday after he had mentioned my name tag being upside down that I spent the entire drive back home thinking of ways to permanently attach my nametag to my apron so that it always stays upright.  

“Are you sure he was staring at my ass or are you just assuming he was because your big sister was showing?” 

Either way, I wasn’t complaining.

“Y/N, he was staring at your ass, trust me. But anyways, continue about last night.” Kate said while waving me off.

“Oh yeah so anyways, we made some small talk. I may have been a tad bit flirty to which I think he may have been flirty back?”

“I wouldn’t doubt it.” Kate mumbled under her breath.

Ignoring her comment I continued on with my description of last night, “Well, to keep a long story short I ended up asking him his name and he told me it was Jesse. We made some more flirty conversation and then I ended up telling him my name.”

I left the part out about me giving him the name tag. I knew Kate would have grown three gray hairs had I told her I was giving out name tags, especially after she went off on a tangent yesterday morning about how everyone keeps stealing all the backup name tags from her drawer up front.

“I unfortunately didn’t get much further than that with our conversation though. I still had a lot to show Kristina for the closing shift and wanted to make sure she was picking up on everything. So, I told him that I had hoped to see him around and that was pretty much that.” I said while grabbing a few metal baking pans from under the baking table so I could begin scooping the dough of the orange scones onto them.

Kate was finishing arranging the few plates of pastries she had finished baking earlier onto the plates for the pastry case. I tried to read her facial expression from the side to see if I could attempt to understand any of what she might be thinking. But, my detective skills weren’t nearly as up to par as hers.

“Well, just promise me you’ll take it slow. I know you’re older now and I’m trying hard not to mom you all the time. But, I just worry about you and the guys here in LA aren’t exactly much better than back home. If anything, I’d say they’re worse.” 

Kate actually took it a lot better than I thought she would and I definitely understood her reasons for being concerned. It felt good to finally be getting a weight off of my shoulders and to have told her about Jesse. 

“But despite me being your protective older sister it is nice to see you so glowy and happy, especially this early in the morning. Maybe I should thank Jesse myself if I see him again.” Kate  said while making her way towards the silver door with a few plates of pastries in her hands.

Rolling my eyes I then motioned towards the trays of orange scones before me, “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Before you head up front, come check these scones to see if they’re to your liking before I put them in the oven.”

Glancing over to the trays on the table a smile spread across Kate’s face.

“I taught you well. Now get started on the chocolate chip muffins while I start setting up out front. If your little crush comes in before you’re finished back here I’ll make sure to sound an alarm or something.” She said before finally stepping out from the back kitchen and making her way out to the cafe to begin setting up for the day.

JESSE

I sat on the kitchen countertop while swaying both my legs to the side as I was finishing up a bowl of oatmeal. I had spent the morning working on some more music for my band ERRA and also helping my roommates with some of their bands music as well.

I lived with my three best friends Michael, Noah, and Jolly ever since I moved from Nashville to California. Noah and Jolly were in a band called Bad Omens together and Michael was in a separate band called Chief. It was nice to live with three other musicians because we could always bounce back and forth ideas to one another.

Also if I ever needed advice or a second opinion on something, all I had to do was just take a few steps out into the hallway and I could knock on one of their bedroom doors regardless of whatever time it was. 

With us all being in touring bands it also worked out because we were usually on opposite touring schedules. So even though it was four of us in one house, I was still able to have some time away for myself when I needed it.  

“Would anyone know why the Crunchyroll login won’t work when I try to use it?” Noah’s voice suddenly echoing out from the front room.

“I don’t know man, I don’t watch those cartoons or whatever you guys call it. Maybe try logging in to the PBS Kids channel. You might have better luck.” Jolly responded back.

“Fuck off, they’re not cartoons man. The new Attack On Titan dropped and I was trying to watch it before my session with Ash. But for some reason all of a sudden I mysteriously can’t log in to my own account.” Noah said in an aggravated tone. 

…“Ah, the TV disconnected from the wifi and that’s why it won’t let me log in.” 

Hopping off the counter I brought my empty bowl over to the sink and rinsed it out before placing it in the dishwasher. I turned to head towards the front room where Jolly and Noah were sitting on the couch together.

“Aw, are my two boys over here having a little spiffle?” I asked as I entered the front room and then plopped down on the couch between them.

“Noah is just dumb and doesn’t know how to work a TV apparently.” Jolly responded in a joking tone.

“I know how to work a TV alright. It’s not my fault the wifi is faulty.”

“The wifi is faulty.” I repeated while laughing.

“I think it’s just user error.” Jolly retorted back.

Noah rolled his eyes and let out a long aggravated sigh. “Enough about the wifi. Where the hell were you last night? I came over to your room to see if you wanted to go grab something for dinner and when I knocked you weren’t in there. Michael had said you’d been gone all day?”

“Oh yeah, I got caught up at the cafe down the road working on some of the new ERRA songs.” I answered.

“All the way past 10:30?” Noah asked with a raised brow.

“Well I ended up having some friendly conversation with one of the girls who works at the cafe. So, I got a bit caught up and lost track of the time.”

Jolly and Noah both turned to each other. Both of them now having raised eyebrows as they returned their sight back to me.

“You got a bit caught up and lost track of the time? As in lost track of time with the girl from the cafe, if ya know what I’m sayin?” Jolly responded with a sly smirk while raising both his brows.

Noah now chiming back in, “Oh shit dude, is that why you were out so late? Good for you man.” 

“No, no, no. You guys are getting way too ahead of yourselves. Plus you both know better than anyone that I’m not the kind of guy to just be going out on lust filled adventures especially with someone I just met.” I responded while nervously running my hands over the tan pants that hugged my thighs.

Oh shit man, I didn’t mean to throw out accusations. I just thought maybe you were finally starting to open up and explore the dating world again, especially after the whole situation with what's her name.” Noah replied while patting the back of my shoulder.

I felt my shoulders tense up from his response. I tried to push that whole situation to the back of my mind as far as possible. So when someone would occasionally bring it back up, the bad taste that lingered on my tongue for so long would overtake all my taste buds. Leaving me with a burning taste of despair and disappointment that I desperately fought so long to be rid of.

“Uh -” I started with a hard swallow. “Not that I’m exploring the dating world per say. But more like she definitely caught my attention and I couldn’t help myself from wanting to talk to her.”

“Well man, don’t be shy. Share the details!” Jolly excitedly responded while sitting further up on the couch. 

Feeling a little more at ease with this new excitement about sharing my encounter with the beautiful girl from last night, I began sharing our interaction with my two friends.

“It actually all happened pretty suddenly. I went to the cafe like normal just to work on some shit for the band. Had myself a coffee and a croissant, yadda, yadda, yadda. When I went to go take my empty plate back up and to get another refill, that’s when I first saw her. She was putting a new plate of pastries in the little case thing up front and the sunlight that casted off her hair caught the corner of my eye.”

“Oh this sounds like some Titanic lovey dovey romance type shit.” Jolly said.

“Dude, did you even watch the movie? Did you see how it ended?” Noah responded with a click of his tongue.

“Uh yeah of course I’ve seen the movie, who hasn’t? That redhead girl and the blonde dude were smashing and then he drew that photo of her with her all naked on the chair and shit. Pretty romantic lovey dovey if you ask me.” 

“Jesus.” Noah said while rubbing both his eyes. “Jesse, please continue before this idiot continues talking.”

Turning my gaze away from Jolly I began explaining mine and Y/N’s encounter again.

“Yeah, so anyways…” Trying to regain my focus after Jolly’s Titanic comment. “I saw her standing there and I just couldn’t keep my eyes off of her. She was the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I honestly think I stood there in my own disbelief because I couldn’t comprehend how she was real. She was so effortlessly beautiful in the way she did something as simple as putting some baked goods behind a glass container. Then when she walked past me and I caught the vanilla coconut scent coming off of her and I was put into an even bigger trance.”

I looked back up and over at Noah, who was sitting beside me silently listening to what I had been saying with his arm stretched over the back of the couch. My friend looked back at me with friendly yet concerned eyes, and I enterlocked my hands together before continuing further.

Taking in a deep breath I went to begin again but Jolly had interrupted once again.

“But were you staring at the booty though? Be honest!” 

My cheeks suddenly became hot and I could feel the saliva in my throat start to quickly dry. 

Fuck. Even I couldn’t deny to myself that I maybe caught a glance or two of her lower half from underneath her apron strings.

Noah suddenly broke out with laughter, “The silence is very telling. My man, you just got busted and by Jolly at all costs.”

“Okay, whatever. So I may have glanced at her ass once or twice. Sue me.” I said as I threw my hands up. “But that wasn’t the reason for why she caught my attention. Something about this girl had me weak in the knees from just the first sight of her.”

“You’re fucked Jesse.” Jolly stated while crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I hate to admit it, but I gotta agree with Jolly on this one. The way you’re describing this girl it sounds like you may be in love at first sight.” Noah added.

I also hated to admit it, but even I couldn’t help but agree with their statements. I was fucked. This girl had me hooked from just the first sight of her.

“Well, did you talk to her or what?” Noah asked while flipping up his hand.

“Later on in the night I did. I’m pretty sure she caught me staring at her while I was standing in line and I had to go work out my embarrassment before even thinking about facing her again. But once I calmed my nerves, I used wanting to get a refill on coffee as an excuse to try to talk to her again.” 

“And? Did it work?” Jolly asked eagerly. 

A smile now spread across my face and my heart began to pick up pace. “Yeah actually, it did. We exchanged some flirty banter and I think she was into me? It’s hard to tell though since it was just one conversation and she was working, so she may have just been being friendly. But we exchanged names and then I made a comment about her nametag being upside down and then she ended up making me my own upside down name tag. It was probably the cutest thing a girl has ever done for me.” I admitted.

“Is that what I saw this morning sitting on the counter by the coffee machine?” Michael asked, suddenly appearing out from the kitchen holding his leftover chipotle bowl.

“Wait, it's in the kitchen? Dude bring it in here so we can see it!” Jolly excitedly exclaimed.

Michael appeared back into the front room holding the name tag that Y/N had made for me last night and handed it over to Noah first.

“Dude, she’s definitely into you. No girl would take the time to do some shit like this if she was just being friendly.” Noah stated while holding the name tag in between his fingers.

“Oh definitely and look, she even added a little smiley face right next to his name”. Michael said with a mumbled tone from the chipotle he had shoved in his mouth.

Jolly now leaned over me so he could grab the name tag from Noah’s hand. “Oh fuck man, yeah she’s definitely feeling you. She took her time with this, look how much detail she added to the little frame around your name.”

I slunk back down into the couch, “You guys are embarrassing me.”

Ignoring my statement, “I think the real question now is, when are you going back to the cafe?” Noah turned to ask me.

I had been thinking about going back to the cafe the second I stepped out the front door of the cafe last night, from the entire drive back home, and up until this moment. That’s all I had been thinking about. 

“I say we all go to the cafe now so we can see who’s got our boy all flustered like this.” Michael said with a grin.

“Hey I’m down. I don’t have to meet up with Ash until a few hours from now. Plus, I could use some caffeine before my session anyways.” Noah replied while pushing his hands off his knees to stand up from the couch.

“Do I have a say in any of this?” I asked with nerves suddenly building up in my stomach.

“Nope.” The three of them all responded back at the same time.

“Quit being a pussy and go put your shoes on. We’re just going to grab some coffee and potentially force you to get her number.” Michael said while walking back over to the kitchen to throw out his now empty chipotle bowl. 

Fuck me.

KATE

This was the first time all morning that I was able to catch my breath. From the moment the cafe doors opened we were slammed back to back. We had a line that stretched almost all the way down to the bookstore registers.

Thankfully I staffed today’s shift with our strongest employees so everything went smoothly for the most part. Other than Kristina spilling an entire pot of hot coffee all over the floor. But, it could have gone worse I suppose. Plus, the floors were probably in need of a good scrubbing anyways.

I walked towards the silver door that separated the back of house from the front cafe and pushed it open to make my way back over towards the sink area to check on Y/N. With this being the first break we’ve had all morning she offered to go catch up on all the dishes from this morning's pastry bake.

Bringing Y/N to work at the cafe with me was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. Even though we also lived together, me and Y/N very rarely ever got into arguments. Even as children, we would bicker and then we would always be able to patch it up right then and there. So I was so thankful when she finally agreed to come work with me after months of desperately begging every day. 

Despite being my sister, Y/N was reliable and I could count on her. Plus she was a hard worker and I never had to worry if she would show up for her shifts or not.

Finally making my way to the sink I came up beside Y/N and put my hand on the back of her shoulder. “Thank you for coming in this morning to help me and for knocking out these dishes. I know I say it a lot but, I really am grateful you decided to come work here with me.”

Turning her head to meet my gaze, “You’re sucking up, what do you want?” 

“Nothing.” I replied back with a laugh. “I just want you to know that I’m thankful and I’m happy to have you here is all. But, don’t let it go to your head. You still owe me a matcha latte for being late yesterday. Don’t think I forgot!”

“Ah, so it was a matcha latte you wanted.” Y/N replied back with a grin across her face. “Give me a few seconds to get cleaned up and I’ll be out there to make it for you, brat.”

“Did I ever mention that you’re the best sister ever?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, suuuuure.” Y/N responded while waving me off.

I turned to make my way back towards the cafe. Pushing the silver door open and checking the times on the pots of coffee. I bent down to the cabinet underneath the coffee pots and scooped out two cups of coffee beans and poured them into the grinder. 

Once they were all grinded up I lined the coffee pot trays with coffee filters and then poured the ground coffee grinds inside and began brewing fresh pots of coffee for the afternoon. When I went to turn back around there was a gentleman standing at the register. 

Holy mother of God.

This man was absolutely beautiful. His short brown hair framed his face perfectly and he was covered from neck to toe with tattoos. Not to mention the fact that he practically towered over the register, and those arms… Jesus those arms.

I took in a deep breath and tried to find my footing again before finally making my way over to the register. I licked my lips and had to do a double take to make sure I wasn’t drooling down my apron.

“Good afternoon, did you have any questions about the menu?” I asked.

“Oh no, I was just reading over everything you guys have here. I’m actually waiting for the rest of my friends to come up but they went to grab a table over in the book store first.”

Mmm, I’d like to grab something myself.

“Okay no worries, take your time and whenever you’re ready to order just holler.” 

“Will do.” He responded back with a friendly smile while tucking his hands into his pockets.

I walked back over to the coffee pots to make it seem like I was doing something while peeking out from behind the coffee grinder so I could continue to stare at the man up at the register.

He was wearing a white shirt that appeared to have an image of Jesus playing basketball with Satan and a pair of black shorts that hugged his thighs perfectly. He had paired them with a pair of high white socks and all white vans.

Suddenly another man appeared beside him. He had long brown hair and was also covered in tattoos. He wore a black tee shirt paired with black sweatpants and had them tucked into a pair of yellow high top shoes. 

What was in the air today? My God. These two men were gorgeous.

“Jesse’s being a pussy so Michael stayed back to try to work up his confidence.” The second man said to the short haired man.

He had an accent that I couldn’t exactly place my finger on. But whatever it was, it sounded beautiful and I wished he would whisper sweet nothings into my ears forever after hearing it.

“Uh Kate, what are you doing?” 

Almost slamming face first into the coffee grinder I whipped my head around to see Jasmine standing at the food counter staring at me with a wild expression on her face.

“Oh, um, I was just listening to the grinder. It has been making a weird sound all morning and I just wanted to make sure the motor wasn’t going bad or anything.” I said with a shaky breath.

“Riiiiiiiight.” She responded with a sly smirk and then glanced over to the register. “Must really be making some concerning sounds then.”

Rolling my eyes at her comment I then brushed my hair back down with my hands and flattened out my apron double checking to make sure I didn’t have any food or coffee gunk on me.

Two more men suddenly appeared behind the two tall gentlemen who had been standing up at the register. One of them caught my attention immediately. I recognized the gray hat he was wearing that had a white flower embroidered on the front. He hung towards the back with his arms nervously crossed over his chest. 

The man with the long brown hair turned over in my direction, “Excuse me ma'am, we are ready to order whenever you’re ready.” He called out with a smile.

Oh shit. I quickly turned over to Jasmine, “Hey can you do me a favor really quick? Can you go in the back and have Y/N come up front please. Tell her it’s urgent. I’m gonna need her to help me knock out these next orders of drinks.” 

“Sure thing!” She responded and turned to head towards the silver door. But before she could place her hands on it to push it open it already began to push forward from the back. Y/N now stepping out into the cafe.

“Hey sorry I took so long, I ended up getting water all over the front of my apron so I had to go search for a new one.” 

“No, it’s okay.” I quickly replied back. “You came at the perfect time. I’m going to need you at the register to help me take these four guys' orders, especially the one in the back.” Then winked my right eye at her.

Y/N quickly looked up and her eyes suddenly grew wide. I could see the pink starting to flush into her cheeks. 

“I’m also going to need you to hold me upright while I have to talk to these two tall ones in the front.” I said while urging Y/N back towards the register with me.

JESSE

“I hate all of you.” I let out with a nervous sigh as I stood behind Noah, Michael, and Jesse in line.

“Oh stop being such a wuss. We are gonna keep conversation with the brunette girl because she clearly can’t keep her eyes off of Noah, and then you can slide on over and try to catch a conversation with your little crush.” Michael replied.

Jolly turned to look back at me, “I do see what you mean though Jesse, she is pretty cute.” 

If you think she’s cute from this far back just wait until you're up close to her. She’s breathtaking. I thought.

“Oh shit dude, they’re walking over this way. Jesse get your ass up here.” Noah then turned to place his giant ass hand on my shoulder and pushed me up to the front between him and Jolly.

There she was, standing right before me once again. Her hair tied up in a messy bun while the loose strands hugged around her face. Her dark green sweater hugged her slender frame and her cheeks were flushed pink, highlighting the beautiful paleness of her skin.

“Alrighty, what can we get started for you guys?” Kate asked while Y/N stood still at her side.

“Do you guys know what you want?” Noah turned around to ask us all.

“Uhhh, let me just get a white mocha please.” Jolly responded.

“Okay, one white mocha. Anything else?”

“Oh it’s all gonna be together, todays a special occasion.” Noah answered back while bumping his shoulder into mine.

Just end me now please.

Y/N glanced up and I immediately made eye contact with her. I gave her a small smile to which she had returned.

Michael leaned over to whisper in my ear, “Now’s your chance man get your ass over there and go ask her for her number.”

Ignoring his comment and letting out a deep breath I inched a little bit closer to the side of the counter where Y/N stood.

“Can I have an iced sugar free vanilla latte with oat milk please.” Noah asked and then shifted over to let Michael come up between us to order next.

“Okay an iced sugar free vanilla latte for you and did you want anything else?” Kate asked with a shaky tone to her voice.

“Nah, he's gotta drink just his fancy little sugar free beverage because he’s gotta go get swole after this.” Michael blurted out with a chuckle.

“Man shut up.” Noah replied back with a long sigh.

“You do order like a girl”, Jolly chimed in with a playful smack to Noah’s arm.

“I’m sick of your guys shit. When we get back home I’m turning the AC down to 62.” 

Kate and Y/N both let out a laugh at Noah’s comment. That was the first time I heard her laugh. It was just as beautiful as she was. Everything about this girl set my soul on fire. Every time I was near her my fingertips tingled with nerves and it was so hard to think straight. 

I knew soon I was going to have to step out of my comfort zone before one of these idiots made a scene and embarrassed me even further. So, I took in a deep breath and came up close to the counter where Y/N was standing to be directly right in front of her.

Her eyes last night were tired and glossy but today, they shined brightly with the sunlight that shone in from the windows. I could probably stand here forever just getting lost in them.

“Hey you.” Y/N’s voice suddenly broke me from getting lost any further in thought.

“Hey yourself.” I replied back with a grin.

“What can I get started for you?” She asked, her smile now growing a little wider to show her teeth.

“I’m feeling adventurous and kind of want to stray away from my usual hot coffee order. What do you recommend?”

“Hmmm” she replied while tapping her fingers to her chin. “It depends, are you looking for something sweet or are you looking for something to wake you up?”

“How about both?”

“I think I can do that.” Y/N responded while reaching over to grab one of the white cups from out of the holder. 

“Just the coffee then?” Kate asked.

Staring intently at the pastry case to the side, I caught sight of a plate that was filled with a stack of orange scones. My stomach suddenly growled and my mouth watered at the sight of the white icing and pieces of orange zest that lined the top of them.

“Can I also get one of those orange scones? I have a sweet spot for anything sweet and fruity.” I turned to look back over at Kate.

“Good choice. My sister actually made those fresh this morning.” She replied back while motioning over to Y/N who was working on making mine and the guys drinks.

Kate walked over to the pastry case and put on a pair of plastic gloves. She opened the door to the back of the case and grabbed the orange scone that rested on the top of the stack and then placed it inside of a brown pastry bag.

“I’d offer to warm it up for you but the icing melts and gets all hard on the top when we do.”

“Oh it’s no worries, I’m sure it will be delicious either way.” I responded back to her.

She handed me the bag that held the orange scone inside. I grabbed it from her and then turned around to face my three friends again. “Are you guys finished ordering?” I asked.

“Yeah I think so.” Jolly answered back.

I set the bag down on the counter and reached into my back pocket to pull my wallet out. But before I could finish pulling my debit card out of its slot Noah came up beside me and handed his debit card over to Kate.

“Hey man, what are you doing?” I asked.

“I told you, it’s a special day. So it’s my treat.”

“Noah, you didn’t have to do that, seriously.” 

Retrieving his card from Kate, he then slid it into the holder he had on the back of his phone, and then shoved his phone back into his pocket. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. We put you through enough hell today so it’s the least I can do.” He replied quietly while patting my back.

“Thanks Noah, I appreciate it.” I grabbed the bag off the counter and looked back over to Y/N who had her back turned towards my direction. She was still working on finishing up our drinks. Noah and the rest of the guys turned to go head back over to the table they found earlier.

I knew this was their attempt at leaving me alone so I could talk with Y/N.

“You don’t have to stand and wait. I’ll have Y/N bring your drinks over if you want to go take a seat.” Kate said while motioning over to Noah, Jolly, and Michael. 

“Oh, are you sure? I don’t mind waiting.”

“I’m sure Y/N wouldn’t mind at all.” She replied back with a wink.

READER

I really, really hope he likes this. I thought to myself while placing the lid on top of the drink I made for Jesse.

“What did you decide on?” Kate asked while leaning over my shoulder to look down at the drinks before me.

“You’re favorite, a vanilla matcha latte. I also made one for you, it’s the cup over there by the espresso machine. I didn’t forget about it.” I said while nudging her arm with my elbow.

“Good choice, after he takes one sip of that he’ll probably get down on one knee.” Kate eagerly turned to grab her matcha latte off the counter and brought it up to take a sip. “I told him to go take a seat while they waited for their drinks. I may have also told him that you’d personally bring it out to him.”

I slowly turned my head to her and shot her a look, “You what?”

“I figured you’d want some time to talk to him more one on one without having to worry about other people being around. I can handle the front by myself for now, plus Jasmine is still here so if we get a little pop we will be okay. Now go, before the coffee and your feet both get cold.” 

I grabbed the tray that held the four coffees. My hands shook with nerves and I tried to focus my breathing before making my way around the counter. Trying to clear my thoughts so by the time I approached the table where he was sitting with his friends I would appear more confident than what I actually was. 

Shifting in my shoes I quickly turned around to smile back at Kate, “Thank you, sis.” I said before finally turning around and walking over towards the corner table of the bookstore where the four guys all sat around exchanging smiles and laughter.

I took in a deep breath as I slowly made my way closer to them. Still trying to focus on my breathing and doing the best to shake out the nerves. I could pick up the smell from the coffees I was holding as I continued walking forward and as I appeared at the table Jesse immediately looked up to greet me with a smile. 

“Okay I have all four coffees here and ready” I reached down to pull the first coffee out of the top left corner of the drink holder, picking it up and reading the description label and name Kate had written on the side. “Alright, I’ve got one white mocha for Jolly?.” I asked while holding up the beverage.

The man with long brown hair sitting furthest in the corner facing me lifted up a finger, “Ah yes, that would be mine.” 

I reached across the table, Jesse now right at my side. I could feel his warm breath fan across the side of my arm and it gave me goosebumps. Trying not to focus too hard over it I reached out to hand Jolly, who sat directly next to Jesse, his beverage.

“Thank you so much.” He responded.

“You’re very welcome” I replied back with a smile. Now reaching over to grab the next drink, I lifted the clear cold cup out of the holder and turned it to the side to read the name and description. “Alright next up, I’ve got an iced sugar free vanilla latte with oat milk for Noah.” I said while holding out the cup.

The man sitting in the chair across from Jesse lifted his head up to look at me and with a soft smile he reached over to take the cup from me, “Yep, that's me. Thank you!” He kindly replied back.

“You’re also very welcome.” I answered back with a light chuckle. I reached back down to grab the next drink, making sure to save Jesse’s for last. I wrote something special on his cup so I knew which cup was his from before I walked over here. 

“Okay next up, I’ve got a strawberry banana smoothie for Michael.” The man who sat next to Noah and across from Jolly raised his hand. “That one is for me” he said while dragging out the e playfully.

“You came to a bookstore coffee shop and ordered a smoothie?” Noah asked him with a sigh.

“Oh sorry, we can’t all be sugar free, oat milk, fancy getting swole, coffee drinkers like you Noah.” He responded back while taking the drink from me. Michael then looked back up from Noah, who was rolling his eyes, to thank me for handing him his beverage.

“Alright, last but certainly not least, I have a vanilla matcha latte for Jesse.” I said while pulling the last cup out of the holder and handing it to the man who was sitting directly next to me. He reached out to take it from me and his fingers brushed against mine. His hands were warm and a little rough. But I still shivered from his touch.

“Wow that’s fancy, probably the fanciest coffee I’ll ever drink in my life.” Jesse replied back with a laugh. “Thank you very much, Y/N. For not only making all of our drinks but for also bringing them over here to us. I told your sister I think it was? That I didn’t mind waiting for them but she insisted that you wouldn’t mind bringing them out.” His gaze continued to linger on me.

I could feel all four of them staring at me now and I knew my cheeks were probably putting my nervousness right on display. I placed my hand on the back of my neck and with a hard swallow I replied back, “Yeah it's no problem at all, my sister Kate likes everyone to be able to relax and grab a book while they wait. That’s her inner manager coming out.” 

“Oh shit, she’s your sister and your manager? Do you guys ever duke it out back there?” Jolly asked while taking a sip of his coffee.

“Surprisingly no, me and Kate actually get along really well together, for the most part. When she isn’t keeping our apartment in the temperatures of Alaska.” I responded back with a chuckle.

“Well, your sister and Noah have something in common.” Jesse said while motioning towards Noah.

“Do you guys all live together?” I asked. 

“Unfortunately.” Noah responded in a joking tone.

“He doesn’t mean that. I know your ass misses me when I’m gone.” Jesse replied while giving Noah a light kick under the table.

I laughed in response to their interaction. I could tell just from the few moments standing here conversing with them that they were all very close. It reminded me a lot of mine and Kate’s relationship and it made me feel safe to be around in their presence. Something that was very rare, especially around a group of guys in LA. 

“Did you want to sit down? If you’re not busy that is.” Jesse asked while tapping at the chair next to him. 

Suddenly all of my focus was on Jesse and I turned back over to make direct eye contact with him. His eyes were a beautiful golden brown. They were sweet and shined like honey from the sunlight that laid across his face which casted in from the windows. 

His voice was soft and kind and his lips were a warm shade of pink from which his teeth peaked out from behind. I traced his face down to his neck that met at his off white tee shirt, then down his tattoo covered arm, and finally over to his hand which was covered with a red mandala tattoo that was tapping against the seat.

I would have rather taken a seat right on his lap but for now, the chair will have to do.

He scooched over the orange scone that was sitting on the table on top of one of the brown bags from the cafe. There were two bites taken out of it and crumbs lined the top of the bag. I made my way over to the chair next to him and sat down right beside him.

I glanced back up to meet his face, and my eyes lingered on his lips. They looked soft and warm and I found myself thinking about what they would taste like. Possibly from the vanilla matcha latte that lingered on his breath, or the hints of orange scone he had eaten from earlier.

Jesse shifted a bit closer to me and now our thighs were touching. I could feel my heart beat pick up and I opened my mouth slightly to breathe in some air to prevent myself from getting light headed. My leg brushed up against his and I could feel him lean into the touch.

He sat up and leaned in closer to me putting his elbow on the table, “By the way your sister told me you had baked the orange scones and I must say they’re quite delicious. I have a sweet spot for all things fruit flavored but especially anything citrusy.” His warm breath fanned across my face.

I was so dazed by this man that I forgot there were three other people sitting at the same table with us. If they weren’t sitting here I probably would have leaned in to taste his lips by now.

I leaned in closer to him, our lips just a few inches apart now. “Well now that I know you enjoy them so much I’ll be sure to always keep a few extra in the back just for you.” 

“Is that an attempt to keep me coming back?” He asked with a raised brow.

“If it was, would you say it was working?” I asked him back.

“If I’m being honest, the orange scones wouldn’t be the reason to keep me coming back. Although they are quite tasty, It would be the girl who made them that would keep bringing me back.”

Holy hell. Holy shit. Holy fuck.

I laid my arm down on the table and brought my hand closer to his elbow. I let my finger rest up against the side of his arm and Jesse brought his arm down to place his hand on top of mine. 

“If it’s alright with you and if I’m not coming off too strong, I am experiencing a wave of confidence I normally don’t carry. So I would really like to take advantage of it and ask you for your number.”

A wide smile spread across my face and I looked down at the table to hide my bright red cheeks. I felt like a little girl in a candy store with the way this man flooded my heart and my stomach with butterflies. 

He took his finger and gently placed it under my chin to lift my face back up to him. Our eyes greeted and it took everything in me to hold restraint and not kiss him. I knew Kate was probably watching and if she caught me sucking face with this guy at work and in my work uniform I would never hear the end of it.

I reached over to his now empty cup and picked it up, “I had already written a little message on here for you earlier but since you asked so nicely..” I took out one of the sharpies from my apron, using my teeth to take the lid off, and began writing my phone number onto the cup. 

I placed the cup back in front of him, “I went ahead and added my number here on the bottom.” I spun the cup around where the message I had written earlier and my phone number was now facing Jesse.

With a giant smile spreading across his face he picked it up and I could see his cheeks begin to lightly flush pink. “I’m a very happy boy right now.” He responded while setting the cup back down on the table before us.