#but I won’t mind much if you read it as such

[pedroscurls]

in every lifetime (pt. 5)

summary: you invite logan back up to your apartment to dry off and he ends up spending the night... the beginning of something new for the both of you. pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader tags / warnings: post deadpool & wolverine ("worst" logan!variant), smut (18+, mdni) - missionary, unprotected p in v, no use of y/n, logan finally gets a happy ending that he deserves. word count: 3.3k a/n: i'm so sorry for the delay... part of me didn't want to write it because it means that this story is complete, but thank you thank you thank you to everyone who's read this story, who's left comments, and liked it! this story holds a special place to my heart and the first ever logan fic i've ever written so it means a lot. i hope you all enjoyed this story as much as i did writing it. also - i know the song is so 90s, but i just kept imagining the reader and logan having a very sensual night while this song is playing... anyway, enjoy the last and final part! 💛💙 song: i knew i loved you by savage garden prev. part

Finally. 

Logan practically melts into you, arms snaking around your frame so gently. Your grip around him tightens and he can feel your tears trickle down your cheeks, meeting your joined lips. It’s a gentle kiss, soft and slow, and there’s an unspoken fear; you’re both afraid that this is just a fleeting moment, that one of you is going to pull away and realize that this isn’t what you want after all. That the fear and pain of losing each other in your own universes are just too much to bear. 

But when you both do decide to pull away, rain pattering down on the both of you, the look on each other’s face is one of relief. 

“Hey bub,” Logan whispers, lips gently brushing against yours. 

You stare up at him, the look of complete vulnerability in his expression. He’s no longer hiding from you– the walls that he surrounded himself long gone as he stares at you. This Logan won’t ever be the same as the one you lost, but the one standing in front of you gives you hope for a future that you only ever dreamed of having with him. You’re sure that in every universe out there, your love for Logan is just as strong as the one in this universe. 

“Spend the night?” you ask quietly, hesitantly. 

“Are you– Are you sure?” Logan knows what you’re implying and despite the subtle excitement that flickers in his eyes, he knows that he doesn’t want to push this… doesn’t want to push you. 

And just like in his universe, you catch on to his hesitation. Can see the look of uncertainty in his eyes. You can see him thinking. Gently, you bring a hand up to his cheek, brushing the pad of your thumb across it before you lift it further to stroke his wet hair back and away from his face. 

“I’m sure.”

“But Laura–”

“Not home tonight.” 

Logan lets out a shaky breath. He’s been alive for almost two hundred years and here you are, making him nervous. “Okay, bub. I’ll spend the night.” 

You catch him by surprise by leaning up to press your lips against his that he almost stumbles back, but his arms tighten around you further and he leans back in and purses his lips against yours. Slowly, you move your lips with his and Logan can feel the excitement begin to build in the pit of his stomach. 

“We should head inside,” he mumbles into the kiss, pulling away briefly to rest his forehead against yours. “I don’t want you getting sick. We’ve been standing in the cold rain…”

You nod and then release your hold on him to bring him back inside your apartment. Once inside, you shut the door and lock it behind you. Standing in the hallway, you’re both dripping wet and you walk towards your thermostat to turn up the heat. 

“I’ve got some old clothes of Logan’s if you don’t mind,” you say quietly, biting your lower lip. “Is that weird?” 

Logan shakes his head. He walks over to you, the sound of his wet boots making quiet squeaky sounds against your hardwood floors. “I don’t mind, but…” he begins. “Will you?” 

You shrug your shoulders. You don’t know how you’d react to seeing your Logan’s clothes on some other version of him. “Only one way to find out, right?”

“I just…” Logan sighs. “I want you to be comfortable and I don’t mind taking this slow, baby.”

Baby. 

You shut your eyes and wrap your arms around him, face burying into his chest. You let out a shaky breath and feel his arms wrap around you, enveloping you in his warm embrace. Logan had always been your personal heater, his body always running hot, and this version is no different. 

Logan places a soft kiss on the crown of your head and slowly pulls away to look down at you. “We should really get you out of these wet clothes.” 

“We both should get out of these wet clothes. Come on.” You lead him further down the hallway and into your bedroom, leaving a wet trail on your floors. Once inside, Logan bends down to remove his boots and socks, setting it near the door as he catches you lifting the end of your crewneck over your head. He sees a sliver of your skin and immediately peels his gaze away from you, turning around to face the wall. 

“Logan, what are you doing?” you let out a quiet giggle and it takes everything in him not to just turn around. The sound of your laughter had always made him feel so happy, especially when he was the one making you laugh. “You can turn around. It’s okay.” 

Clearing his throat, he turns around and looks at you. You’re now standing in just a towel, a pool of your wet clothes around your ankles. But the sight of your smile makes his heart skip a beat. The way it meets your eyes, a flicker of contentment in your features… and it’s all because of him. 

“I’m going to rinse off,” you tell him. “I’ll go and use Laura’s bathroom down the hall. You can use mine.” You walk towards your closet and grab a few change of clothes, in addition to an extra towel. You bite your lower lip, keeping one hand to hold the towel up against your body. You hand him the clothes and towel, leaning up to gently peck his lips. “Then I’ll grab our wet clothes and put it in the washer.” 

As you’re walking away and out of your bedroom, Logan gently reaches out for your free hand. He turns you around and pulls you against him, leaning down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. He growls against you– the fact that you’re only using a towel to cover yourself causes an excitement to rush over him. 

Logan feels your lips move against his, urging him to continue the kiss. He releases his hold on your hand and instead moves his hand to your lower back. For a brief moment, you move your own hands to his wet hair, having long forgotten the towel that you’re holding up as it slips. 

“Bub,” Logan whispers, slowly pulling away as he feels you gently bite down on his lower lip. He growls at that and then glances down to see just enough of your bare front before you wrap the towel back around yourself. He clears his throat and feels his length stir beneath his jeans – it’s uncomfortable and tight, especially since he’s completely soaked from the rain. 

“I’m going,” you reply quietly. “I’m going.” You turn around and walk out of your bedroom, glancing over your shoulder to catch his gaze and you smile. “You should get going too, baby.”

Baby. 

Logan grins at that and nods, turning on his heel and walking to your bathroom.

—

By the time you're showering, you’re dressed in a pair of pajama shorts and an oversized white t-shirt that reach your mid-thighs. You’re in the laundry room, putting yours and Logan’s clothes in the washer when you feel his strong arms wrap around you from behind. 

You shut your eyes and lean back against his chest, hands coming down to rest over his. You tilt your head upwards and feel his lips brush against the side of your neck, the feel of his facial hair tickling you. You let out a quiet giggle and Logan smiles against you, holding you firmly against him. The tension in the air thickens and you open your eyes to press the start button on the washer. Once the machine starts, Logan turns you around and stares deeply into your eyes. 

Your gaze lowers to see what he’s wearing, biting your lower lip. He’s wearing only a pair of boxers and he’s shirtless. Of fucking course. Your eyes deviate even further as you gently reach out to touch the muscles at his abdomen and move them up his strong chest and to his shoulders. 

“Hi,” he whispers. 

“Hi,” you answer, feeling the heat in your cheeks rise as you obviously ogle him. 

“Do you– Are you–” you clear your throat. “Sorry. Are you thirsty? Do you want water?” 

Logan shakes his head. “Just want you, bub.” 

You nod and then take his hand, leading him back to your bedroom. You’ve already cleaned up the wet mess you both left and your entire apartment is warm enough that you’ve already turned the heater off, but the tension makes you feel hotter than normal. Logan’s touch sends an electrifying shock through your body and once inside, you’re about to push on his chest to have him sit on the bed but he catches you by surprise when he scoops you into his arms and gently lays you down on your bed. 

He climbs in after you and gets underneath the sheets with you, instantly pulling you into his arms. Logan can feel the tension in the air, can practically smell your arousal, but he makes no comment. He wants you to set the pace, wants you to decide what you want, wants you to choose what to do next. 

You turn on your side and rest your head on his shoulder, moving a hand to rest on his bare chest. “Logan, I–” you stop yourself, biting your lower lip. 

He turns to look down at you, hand cupping your cheek. He had always been so gentle with you. Those same hands had caused so much pain, so much hurt, but with you… Logan’s always been a different man. You had awoken something inside of him that he never knew existed and when he lost you in his universe, that part of him died with you. 

But getting the chance to be with you again, even if it’s a different version of you, makes him hopeful for the future. Makes him hopeful that he can finally be happy. With you. Always with you. 

“I’m here,” he whispers. “I’m here.” 

You let a small smile line your lips and you turn to lie on your back, bringing him to hover above you. Logan rests his hands at either side of your head, settling himself between your legs as he looks down at you. He can hear the quiet pitter patter of the rain hit your window, the small lamp on your nightstands providing just the right amount of light to illuminate you. Your hair splays against your pillow and you’re looking up at him with the same look you always had. Even in his universe. 

In your eyes, he can do no wrong. 

In your eyes, you see someone more than just the wolverine. 

In your eyes, you see someone worth loving. 

“I promise,” Logan whispers quietly. “I promise I’m going to always keep you safe, no matter what.” 

“I know, Logan,” you say softly. “You have a good heart. Always have.” 

Tears sting his eyes and he leans down to peck your lips, careful not to crush you. “I don’t deserve you…” 

“Yes, you do,” you reply. Your hands move to his arms, fingertips brushing against the chiseled muscles. “Everyone deserves to be happy, to be loved… Even you, Logan. Especially you.”

Logan feels his heart swell at your words, can feel the emotion taking over him as he remembers his dream earlier that night. His world’s version of you had said the same thing and while he isn’t even sure it was ever real, hearing those words come from you makes his heart race.

He doesn’t know what he ever did in his life to ever deserve someone like you because he’s sure that he doesn’t deserve it. 

But you… The way you’re looking at him makes him feel worthy of this happiness, of your love. 

“After everything you’ve been through, why?” Logan asks honestly. “Why do you still have such a positive outlook on life? On this life?” 

You bite your lower lip and move your hands to run through his hair, seeing his eyes flutter shut as he purrs quietly. “It’s not easy,” you admit. “There are days where I can’t wait for it all to end… but Laura still needs me. There are people out there who still need me…” you move one hand to wipe at your eyes, feeling tears begin to fall from your face again. “And because I promised him.”

“You’ve always been the strongest,” Logan whispers, placing a light kiss on your forehead. “The bravest,” another kiss on the tip of your nose. “And the kindest person I’ve ever met,” he finishes, leaning in to press his lips firmly against yours. 

You gasp against his lips and instantly move your lips with his own. The kiss deepens further, ignited by passion and a sudden sense of urgency. One of Logan’s hands remains on the mattress, keeping himself propped up as the other moves down to your side and leg, hooking it around his hip as he presses his lower half firmly against yours. 

You feel his hand move up and down the side of your bare leg, causing shivers to run through your body as you slowly roll your hips upwards to create some friction… Until you feel his hardened length press against your throbbing heat. 

It has been way too long and your panties are already soaked at the realization of what’s about to happen next. Logan pulls away from your lips to press firm kisses along your jawline and down the side of your neck, teeth darting out to graze your skin. His low growl against you reverberates through his entire being and he pulls away from you briefly to look down at you. 

You’re breathing heavily, eyes darkened with desire, but you’re still looking at him like he’s the only man that ever mattered. 

“Is this okay?” he asks. “I don’t want to do something you’re going to regret and I’m fine if nothing happens, but I just– I needed to ask before this goes any further.”

You bite your lower lip. “In your universe, were you a gentleman?” you tease. “I just assumed all versions of you liked to be in control and–”

Logan growls again and moves his hand underneath your shirt, finding his way to your bare breast as he runs his thumb across your peaked nipple. “Should have known,” he grins. “Once a smartass, always a smartass.” 

You whimper quietly, letting out a quiet laugh that only excites Logan even further. “You like it.”

“Oh, baby, I always have.” 

Then, he leans down again and presses his lips more firmly against yours. His hand kneads your breast into the pit of his palm and he can hear you whimper against his lips, can feel your body begin to squirm, can smell your arousal even more prominently now. 

“Logan,” you moan quietly, pulling away from the kiss. “Yes, I want this. I want you.” 

It was all Logan needed to grip your shirt in two hands, ripping it open. You gasp loudly, your front now fully exposed for him. He looks down at you and clears his throat as he leans down to wrap his lips around your nipple, flicking his tongue repeatedly against you. 

He feels your hands move down to the waistband of the boxers, urging it down his legs and he pulls back to lean on his knees. He gently takes your hands and kisses your knuckles before he pushes down his boxers past his legs, slowly kicking them off to the side as he looks down at himself. 

Extremely hard. Leaking. Throbbing. 

Logan needs you. 

He sees your eyes gaze down at him and sees the way you bite your lower lip at the sight. Then, you reach down to hook your thumbs into your panties as you begin to lower it down your legs. Logan helps you, pulling them away from you as your arousal now hits his senses at full force. He looks down between your legs, reaching down to run the length of his finger across your sex and sees your wetness glisten across his digit. 

You whimper and lift your hips, yearning for more as you try to reach down to wrap your own hand around his length. Logan stops you and hovers above you, forearm propped near your head as his other hand reaches down to grasp his manhood. He runs the tip across the length of your sex before he slowly slides into you. 

You’ve always been tight, but always felt like you were made for him. Your walls stretch to give way to him as he slowly continues to slide further into your depths. Your hands move to his shoulders, fingertips digging into his skin and he groans at the sensation. He feels your legs tighten around his hips, the heel of your feet digging into his lower back to urge him to push further into you. 

“Logan,” you moan, feeling his free hand cup your cheek as his eyes remain open to stare down at you. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, hands now linking at the nape of his neck as Logan’s hands move to either side of you when he fully slides into the hilt. He groans, dipping his head to rest his forehead against yours as he stares into your eyes. 

You let out a loud groan at the feel of his manhood filling you completely as your walls slowly give way to his girth. Slowly, Logan rolls his hips and pulls back enough before he pushes back into you. He leans in and press his lips against yours, his hips continuing its slow and deep strokes as your walls remain tight around his length. 

You whimper against his lips, mouth widening at the sensation of his deep thrusts. You know you won’t be able to last long, the feeling of his manhood sliding along your walls, his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust in, and the hair at his base brushing against your clit all bringing you closer and closer to the edge. 

Logan lowers himself enough so that his chest rests against yours as his arms wrap around your waist. He slowly picks up the pace, his skin beginning to slap against yours as it echoes off the walls of your bedroom and mixes in with the sounds of your moans and the rain from outside. 

When he feels your body begin to tremble, your walls begin to tighten even further around him, Logan quickens his thrusts. You’re both panting heavily, foreheads resting against each other, bodies pressed firmly against one another. It’s so passionate, so intense, so long overdue. 

“Logan!” you exclaim, arms tightening around his shoulders as you hold onto him when you reach your high. Logan delivers a few more thrusts before he releases inside of you, growling lowly against you. Usually, Logan likes to make sure you come at least two or three times before he comes, but he couldn’t help himself. 

He needed you. 

Just as badly as you needed him. 

—

Afterwards, Logan helps you clean yourself up, using a wet and warm towel to wipe his sticky release from between your legs. He pulls you into his arms after setting the towel aside, feeling you snuggle into his chest. He looks down at you, your eyes falling shut as you drape an arm around him as well. 

He lets out a sigh of relief and brings a hand to gently brush your hair away from your face. He leans down and presses a soft kiss on your forehead, hand lower to rest on your lower back. 

“In every lifetime,” he whispers. 

You open your eyes and smile, looking up at him.

“In every lifetime, Logan.” 

--

taglist: @its-in-the-woods @mynatureworld @wadewnstonwilson @squishyfruitloop @maybedisaster

@kellyxo1 @m1cky-y-y @flowersforbucky @namikyento

[janeyseymour]

Wouldn't Deny That I'm In Love With You

Disclaimer: @schemmentigfs and I both got the same prompt, but decided to both write our own takes on it... so... but also like go read hers because it's a fucking slay.

Summary: You're a sunny art teacher, and you're married to the Abbott grump. No one knows. (requested by @strawberrypink-jellybeans )

WC: ~4.6k

Ms. Y/N. Ms. Schemmenti. Two souls who just so happen to find each other at the school that you both work at. Two souls that just so happen to be married to each other, undetected and unknown by most of the Abbott Elementary staff- aside from Barbara Howard, who doesn’t say much in regard to the topic because she knows of her work wife’s preferences. Two souls who, despite being near polar opposites, have found a love that they each hold near to their hearts.

Five years the two of you have been together. Three of those years, you’ve spent married. Why no one has really caught onto the fact that the tough, take no shit, second grade teacher and the always sunny and radiating joy art teacher are together? You never made a big deal about it, and you probably won’t ever. The only times that the two of you are necessarily together at school is when she brings her students to you for their related arts time. Your lunches and preps don’t line up, and Melissa likes to get to the school early enough to catch the news and prepare for her day while you prefer to lie in bed for longer than you would like to admit. There’s no need for all of glitz and glamour- no, instead, you began dating quietly, and then two years later you made your way down to City Hall with simple rings that had arrived in the mail from Amazon. With Barbara Howard as your witness, the two of you wed in a small conference room in the center of the city that had both of your hearts.

The change of last names never happened. Everyone at Abbott is so used to Melissa being a Schemmenti, and she takes pride in that last name. And you? You wouldn’t have minded being Mrs. Schemmenti, but you did fear that it would confuse some of your younger students. So, you kept your last name too. 

And since that beautiful day two years ago, you’ve never been happier. Your sunny disposition only became brighter. And for a bit, Melissa was lighter on her toes before slipping back into the rough and tough teacher she was known to be. And no one ever asked why you began to wear a ring on your left hand- just another addition to the many rings that you tend to wear on a daily basis. The same goes for your wife. So no one at Abbott is aware of the marriage- including your boss, who has glossed over the fact that your paystubs have the same address.

If anybody had ever asked why either of you began wearing rings, you would tell them that you happily got married. And if anyone had asked why Melissa was wearing a new ring, she would tell them that someone finally managed to tie her down. And if they were smart about it, they would’ve known that the two of you are happily married. But you suppose that nobody expects the fiery redhead and the sweet art teacher to really cross paths to begin with. 

It’s not like you hide the fact that you’re in a relationship. You really don’t. In all honesty, you wear your heart on your sleeve, and outside of school, everyone knows that you are happily married. You have your regular spots for dinner and coffee, her family absolutely adores you, and your family has made it quite clear that if you were to divorce Melissa, they would take her side in the matter.

Outside of school, those who know that the two of you are together know just how in love the two of you are. You’re not afraid to tell people how you love her- grumpiness and all. 

Even your families are slightly attune to the fact that your wife isn’t always the badass bitch she pretends to be. They watch the way she tends to be with you, how you have this magical presence about you that eases everybody, but especially Melissa. They see how she holds you tenderly and how you are at such an ease with her, and you’re usually at ease to begin with. 

But you know that there’s a time and a place to bring out the softness of your redheaded angel. And school is not necessarily the time or the place. Well, until… 

It’s a Thursday morning when Melissa slams her fist into her alarm clock with a bit more force than she usually would that you know today is going to be a day where your phone just constantly goes off because you need to help keep your wife from committing arson.

After yesterday, you have a feeling that today is going to be a shit show for your wife. You’re quite thankful that you don’t have to deal with parents very often after you hear some of the horrors your wife has gone through.

When you expect her to roll out of bed to get into the shower, she doesn’t. She simply tightens her hold on you and kisses your neck.

“Hun,” you chuckle softly. “Babe.”

“Don’t wanna go to work today,” Melissa mumbles into the crook of your neck. “Don’t make me.”

You chuckle lowly. “You don’t have to, Lis. But I am going.”

“Stay with me,” your wife whines. “C’mon. We never take a day.”

“I can lay with you until it’s time for me to get up, but you know how excited I am to start this unit with the kiddos,” you tell her.

She groans at your insistence. “I guess I’ll take what I can get.”

Her laying with you only lasts a few minutes longer before she huffs and throws the covers off of her body. “If I go to work today, will you at least come shower with me?”

With a giggle, you follow her into the bathroom.

You think that maybe with the way she left the house this morning while you finished up your makeup and getting ready, her mood would be slightly better than it would’ve been had you not had sex in the shower.

But on your drive to work, you get a call from Melissa, and you know that nothing good can come from a call from her this early.

“What’s up, babe?” you answer brightly.

“I’m going to commit a crime,” your wife huffs into the phone.

You sigh deeply. “No, you are not,” you tell her firmly. “What happened?”

The redhead proceeds to tell you about the terrible email that a certain parent had sent her last night, claiming that she was the worst teacher in the greater Philadelphia area and that she was going to sue.

“I doubt that she’ll do that, and you know you are a great teacher,” you attempt to calm the fired up woman.

“I’m going to commit a crime for a different reason,” Melissa tells you.

“And that would be?”

“She left a voicemail on my phone and called me a dyke.”

That was probably the last thing that you expected your wife to say, and your heart breaks in your chest. You know that particular word brings up quite a few things for the redhead from her past, and you can’t say you’re fond of that slur either. 

“My love,” you make your voice as warm and as calm as you possibly can. “I’m sorry. What do you need right now? Comfort, or a solution?”

“Both.”

“Well, my comfort solution right now is that I’m about five minutes from school, so you can head to my classroom and wait for me there. And my solution solution would be to go to Ava with the email and the voicemail and see what she has to say about it.”

You hear a soft hum come from Melissa as she debates which one she should do.

“Or, you can come to my classroom, and when I get there, we can go together.”

Melissa doesn’t end up doing any of those things. Of course she doesn’t. She stays on the phone with you until you get to your place of employment, but then she claims that she’s fine and doesn’t need to come to your classroom and she can handle the situation on her own.

And that solution is for her to simply simmer in her classroom- she doesn’t want to bother you when she knows that you have so much to prepare for today.

When the kiddos begin to trickle in, you’re upstairs in your classroom while Melissa stands by her door and tries to smile as her students greet her.

That’s when the parent comes in. She comes in with a fire and storms right up to your wife.

“The hell do you think you are?” the mother gets right in the redhead’s face. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Ma’am,” Melissa says, scarily calm. “Now is not the time or the place. If you wish to speak to me after school, I would be more than happy to do so with my boss present.”

“I think here is a great place, and now is the time! Because I won’t have time to have a conversation with you at the end of the school day! I have to get my daughter home and ready for gymnastics! Not like you would know anything about that, fuckin’ pathetic, childless fag.” The woman ends up screaming in your wife’s face because of a note that was sent home in regards to her daughter’s behavior the previous day. She ends up getting so close to Melissa that she can smell the booze in her breath- at 7:30 in the morning.

To the second grade teacher’s credit, she remains eerily calm the entire time. The only signal that she is getting angrier is that her fists clench and uncurl every so often. And because of this, Barbara Howard does not get involved. Instead, the kindergarten teacher greets her students while keeping a careful eye on her work wife and makes a mental note to text you a warning about your wife’s attitude when you see her later today.

Unfortunately, kindergarteners always keep the woman of God on her toes, and that text doesn’t get sent until you’re already in the middle of teaching your sixth graders.

A parent came in here raging at your wife. Lay’s mom.

She sent Lis a nasty email last night too… Should I come check on her?

I’m already sending her up. Having Janine watch her class as we speak.

Thank you.

Good luck.

You can hear your wife before you see her appear in the doorway, her heels clicking on the tile in a way where you know she’s pissed. And then her face is in front of you, and you can see how pissed she is. 

“Hey,” you smile warmly at your wife. “Just give me a second to get the kids set up, and then-”

“Why did Barb send me up here?” Melissa bites out. “I don’t have time for this, Ms. Y/N.”

A few of your students look to the feisty second grade teacher with what you can only describe as a scowl. She’s speaking to you, the sweet and sunny art teacher, in such a bitter way.

You just give her a look that tells her to simmer down before turning back to your students. Some of them are waving at her, as she was their second grade teacher, but most of them just look confused that she’s up here when second grade doesn’t have their special until the end of the day, and she’s here on her own. You give them their instruction and ask them to do it quietly while you speak with Miss Schemmenti. Being a good group of students, they all take out their sketchbooks and begin to work. So, you step into the hall and crack your door.

“Lis,” you sigh quietly once you have privacy.

“‘m. fine,” your wife grits out. “Don’ even know why Barb sent me up here.”

“Because it’s clear you’re pissed, and that woman was yelling in your face.”

“And?” the redhead challenges. “I handled it fine. Didn’t even start cursing in Italian when I went into my classroom. I don’ need Barb, or you, acting like I’m gonna fly off the handle at every little thing. I don’ need it.”

“Lis.” You raise a brow and hug your arms around your body. “C’mon. We’re just looking out for you because we love you.”

“And I can handle it on my own.”

You frown, but nod. “Okay, hun. If you say so. But just know, I’m always here for you.”

Your wife just gives you a look that is clearly asking if you have anything else to say, or if she can go.

“Okay, babe,” you sigh. “I’m sorry she sent you up here, but we’re just looking out for you and making sure you’re okay. We love you, you know.”

The redhead finally begins to soften up a little. “I know.”

“Good.” You reach a hand out and squeeze hers gently before dropping it between the two of you. “I’ll see you when you bring your kiddos up for art?”

“Yeah,” the redhead sighs.

“And then tonight, we can just relax, yeah?”

She nods.

“I love you, Lis.”

“I love you too,” Melissa whispers back. She turns her head both ways to see if any students are wandering the hall, and for once there aren’t any stragglers. So, she leans in for a quick kiss- one that you reciprocate. And then she’s off down the hallways, heels still clanking against the tile, but slightly less aggressively. You can’t help but watch her figure as she goes before turning back into your classroom.

What the two of you weren’t aware of is that one of your students had gotten up to ask if she could use the restroom, and she saw the two of you kiss.

The class is whispering rapidly when you walk in, but you don’t really mind. You had given them an easy assignment, and it was simply to draw how they were feeling today. You knew it wouldn’t take much time, and you were prepared to walk back into your classroom to a more chaotic situation than you had. What you don’t know is that they were already whispering about you and Melissa. They go quiet as you walk back into the room.

Your smile is warm and your eyes are soft as you continue class with a grateful thank you for their patience and behavior.

By the time their teacher comes to pick them up, the word has spread like a wildfire- or a Schemmenti-made fire. They took to texting their friends while you gave them time to work on their sculptures with the option of listening to music on their phones.

But you are blissfully unaware of the rumors circulating about you and the second grade teacher you call your wife, so you send them off with a smile. When your next group comes in, those kids are well-behaved, albeit a bit chatty. You don’t tend to listen in on their conversations, so you don’t know that they’re speaking about you. You don’t miss the way some of them look at you, but you suppose that maybe they just aren’t fond of this outfit today. Still, you maintain your positive and bright disposition throughout the class period. 

When your prep period comes around, you feel as though you’re in a good spot to be. So, you settle at your desk with a light snack and your phone.

I hope your day got better, you text Melissa.

Her response comes a bit later, as you’re thumbing through a few papers. Yeah. Got a few visitors from past years swinging by the room too, which is nice. Reminds me that I’m a good teacher.

Neither of you are aware that her former students are stopping by to get a look at her- as if they can see if the rumor is true or not by simply looking at her. 

You are, you reply. I’m glad your day got better.

Thanks sunshine.

You smile dreamily at her words.

Come lunch, word about the two of you dating has gone through the school. Even most of the teachers are aware of the rumor- but you’re upstairs in your own little bubble, and everybody has seen the mood that your wife is in, so no one says anything. Not even Jacob, who is known for his curiosity, says anything. The lunch room is eerily quiet, and Melissa can’t say she’s unhappy about it. After chaos in her classroom, the redhead welcomes the calm eagerly.

Your last class to come by today is your wife’s. You’re standing outside of your classroom waiting for them when you see her marching her students down. She clearly seems to be in a better mood, and for that you are thankful. A grumpy Melissa at home is not a fun Melissa.

“Hello, Ms. Schemmenti!” you singsong, and your heart fills when she gives you a smile she usually reserves for you at home.

“Ms. Y/N,” the second grade teacher chuckles. She smirks. “My little eagles have been talking about how they’re so excited to see you today.”

You grin brightly at the kids lined up at your door. “How sweet,” you coo, and you ruffle Rakeem’s hair gently. “C’mon in, find your seats, and pull out your sketchbooks for me, okay?”

They file their way in, and you take the opportunity to look at your wife in all of her beauty for a few seconds. “Better day?”

“Better day,” Melissa sighs quietly. “And I talked to Ava about that situation, and she’s surprisingly willing to help me out.”

“Say what you want about Ava,” you chuckle. “But she does her job sufficiently.”

The redhead rolls her eyes and shrugs, and all you can do is smirk. “Have a good prep period, hun.”

“Have fun with my monsters.”

You turn into the room with a dopey lovesick smile on your face before you begin your last lesson of the day. 

The second grade teacher is all caught up on her work, and she doesn’t really have much else to discuss with Janine in terms of curriculum, so Melissa makes her way up the stairs about ten minutes early.

You’re fully immersed in your teaching when she comes by, and all she can do is lean against the doorframe and watch you work your magic. It’s… definitely a different approach from her own teaching style, but you thrive. You’re easily one of the best teachers at Abbott, and your wife knows that- she tells you constantly.

You don’t even notice that she’s standing there, until you notice that your students are maybe not as engaged as they usually are with you.

“My loves,” you sigh softly, but the smile on your face is still present. “I do wish you would stay with me so you know what we’ll be doing next class.”

“C’mon, my little eagles,” Melissa scolds them gently. “You gotta listen to-”

“Am I running late?” you turn on your heel and look at Melissa.

She shakes her head. “Just had a few extra minutes. Thought I’d see what my favorite students are up to with one of their favorite teachers.”

“Oh,” you ease up immediately. “Well, come on in, Mel- Ms. Schemmenti.”

The redhead takes an empty stool and watches as you teach for the last few minutes. The students look between the two of you the entire time.

When there are a few minutes left of class, you ask the children if they have any questions- and you should’ve been specific in asking if they had any questions about the future of their art projects. Immediately, almost every student’s hand goes up.

You frown just slightly. “Was I not clear enough with my instruction?” you mumble to yourself. You thought you had been quite clear with the next steps and expectations. “Yes, Angel?”

“Are you and Ms. Schemmenti dating?”

You give a blank stare, and then your brows creep up your forehead. “What?”

“Are you and Ms. Schemmenti dating?” she repeats. 

You glance to your wife, and she just gives you a look that states you can say whatever you want. With a nod of her head, you take a deep breath.

“Where did this come from?” you inquire.

This time, Malia speaks up. “My older brother saw you and Ms. Schemmenti this morning in the hallway kissing.”

“Wh-” Melissa gasps out. “That-”

“He said that Ms. Schemmenti came up during his class, and when he got up to ask to go to the bathroom he saw her kiss you.”

You bite your lip. “Well, that rumor is not true.”

The class gives a collective sigh, and you allow them to believe what you said before you smile.

“Because actually… Ms. Schemmenti and I are married.” You hold up your left hand and wiggle your ring finger. The students’ eyes go from you to your wife, who is also holding up her left hand with a smirk. 

The frowns and sad sighs quickly turn into wide eyes, mouths agape, big smiles, and cheers. Questions are flying at you a million miles a minute, and you can’t help but chuckle. Instead of trying to answer them over the chaos in your room, you simply make your way over to the redhead and drape an arm around her shoulder while you wait for them to get their excitement out. It takes a minute for their shock to die down and for you to wrangle their attention again.

“Ms. Schemmenti and I are married; have been for three years,” you chuckle. “Yes, Sweet Cheeks comes home with us over the summers. Sometimes we go out for dinner, but mostly we just stay in and cook. Our house has a front porch with a garden in the back. No, we don’t usually come to work together.”

“H-how?!” one of the kids stammers out.

You go to say more, but your wife just holds up a hand to signal them to stop bombarding the two of you with questions. “My little eagles, we have to get back to our classroom if we want to get to dismissal on time. So, line up. C’mon.”

Dismissal is much more hectic than usual. You’re standing outside at your duty while Melissa sees that all of her students get to the right places, and word travels fast. You have students and their parents coming up to the both of you praising you for ‘having the courage’ to come out. Others can’t believe that the hard ass and the personification of sunshine are married. But almost everybody is smiles at the confirmation that the two of you are a happy couple.

Well, all except that one parent. She comes up, guns a-blazing to you. She begins to scream in your face, calling you all sorts of derogatory names. She’s… you’re becoming increasingly nervous.

Thankfully, Melissa is able to dismiss the rest of her students and comes to your rescue. So does Ava. While Ava tries to get her to walk away without causing any more of a scene than what was already created, your wife is pissed.

“You can talk to me however you want,” Melissa hisses at the woman, pointing a finger in the woman’s face. “You can say whatever the hell you want about me. But you do not speak to my wife like that. Nope, and if you keep goin’… you don’t know who you’re-”

“Lis,” you tug her back by the arm gently. “Just… let her go. Ava will handle it.”

She shoots you an incredulous look. How are you so calm about this? But because you give her a look that tells her it’s not worth it, she backs down. She continues to glare at the woman as she’s pulled away by another parent and the principal. 

The redhead just wraps an arm around you, holding you close for the rest of dismissal. She doesn’t care anymore- the entire school knows that the two of you are together at this point. And if they didn’t witness the events that had just taken place, the two of you know word travels fast in this school- everyone would know by tomorrow morning anyway.

One more parent approaches you with their child, and Melissa looks like she’s ready to fight if someone else says one more negative thing about your relationship.

“I- I saw what happened,” the mother states quietly. “And I just want you to know… she’s on her own in that mindset. The rest of us are quite happy to have the two of you at Abbott, your relationship aside. And, if the two of you are happy, that’s nobody’s business but your own.”

You give this mother a soft smile and a thank you for her words.

After dismissal, you don’t go into the staff lounge to grab your lunch bag- you’ll wait to get it tomorrow. No. You just want to go home and relax after the last hour of your day. Melissa texts you to let you know that she doesn’t plan on sticking around today either- she’ll meet you at home as soon as she can. So, you quietly slip out of the school once teacher hours are over.

At home, you’re just pouring two glasses of wine as your wife comes in and kicks off her shoes. Her arms are instantly around your waist and kissing you softly. You giggle in her hold.

“Hey, babe,” you smile against her lips.

She just kisses you again, murmuring, “My beautiful wife.”

“Do you want to talk about today?” you ask as you pull away and offer her the wine glass meant for her.

Where you think the redhead is going to go back to raging, she just shrugs. “Ava already pulled me aside and told me that she has our backs. She ain’t gonna let this parent ruin it all- somehow she’s already in the process of moving the kid to Janine’s class, as much as I’ll hate to see Lay out of my class.”

“It’s probably for the best,” you sigh quietly.

Melissa nods with a frown. “And instead of taking art, she’ll go with the gym teacher twice a cycle… Mom’s a real homophobe and doesn’t want us ‘rubbing in the gay’. Whatever the hell that means.”

You roll your eyes. “A real piece of work.”

“That’s the understatement of the year.”

“Well?” you ask as you take a sip of your own wine. “How do you feel about us being out at school?”

“It was only a matter of time,” your wife tells you with a small shrug and a smile. “I don’ care if everyone knows, although I’m not looking forward to the line of questioning I’ll get from Pipsqueak and her sidekick tomorrow morning.”

“Why don’t we go into work together tomorrow, and I’ll help you out with that?” you tease.

“You’d wake up early for me?”

“You know I would,” you chuckle.

The next morning, Melissa drives the two of you to your place of work, and you walk into the staff lounge hand in hand. Almost immediately, her work crew- aside from Barbara- are bombarding you with questions.

You do everything you can to answer them, until Jacob asks, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Melissa just smirks. “Youse didn’t ask. Had you, I would’ve told you I was happily married to Y/N three years ago. It’s not like I deny that I’m in love with her.”

TAGS: (and let me know if you want to be added!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch

[revelboo]

I just finished reading the latest starscream chapter, and all I can think its the MC going "boys boys, you are both pretty, you don't need to fight over me." It's just something funny that popped in my head

I love the writing, it's fantastic, it saves me from during dead hours at work

Everything is Alright Pt 45

Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader

• Fully aware of how much his presence is aggravating Soundwave, Starscream props his chin on a fist, wings flared out as far as he can to take up as much space as possible. And he smiles. As amusing as it is to antagonize the communication’s officer, the fact that the other mech has his servos curled around you, your little hands on him is driving Starscream crazy. Making it hard to be still and not just lunge to get to you, because you belong with him. Only him. The sight of you being held by someone else is clawing through his spark.

• Soundwave is making that low, rumbling noise that puts you in mind of a giant, powered on speaker humming through you where his servos are touching you. He’s angry, you realize in surprise. He’s always so in control, so this little show of temper locks your breath in your lungs. Swallowing, you glance from him to Starscream, seeing that sly smirk on your Seeker’s face. The same smile he has whenever he talks about himself, sure and cocky. Deliberately needling Soundwave for some reason. Was he that worried about you or just jealous of the other mech? You’re betting on the latter, knowing how unpredictable he can be when provoked. Especially as you notice the faint tremor of his wings and your heart aches for him. He’s on edge, more upset than he’s letting on.

• Servos flexing as your worried thoughts spill through him, he wants to pull you closer. Soothe away that anxiety beginning to build inside you, but knows trying to do so will only tip Starscream over the edge. As calm as the Seeker is pretending to be, it’s too easy to pick up on that growing instability quickly approaching a boiling point. To realize that any wrong move and the Seeker might lash out to try and take you. And end up hurting you in the process without meaning to. Venting softly, Soundwave picks you up and turns to gently set you on your feet on the floor, reluctantly nudging you toward the Seeker with a servo. You look back at him over your shoulder, your expression easing some. Understanding. “Go, little one,” he says, spark aching. Wanting to pull you back to him. To safety.

• As soon as you’re on the ground, Starscream goes still. Not even looking at Soundwave as you walk to him, head tipping up to smile at him. “Come,” he growls, kneeling to offer you a hand. Satisfaction warming him as you settle yourself in his palm willingly. Lifting you to cradle to his chassis where you belong, he finally lifts his optics to smirk at the communications officer, but Soundwave is watching you. He won, but it doesn’t quite feel like a victory somehow. “Let’s go home.”

• Why does leaving Soundwave hurt? Feel so much like leaving a part of yourself behind? Starscream’s servos tighten around you, warm as he presses you against him so you can feel the thrum of his spark. That sensation calming you as you let your cheek rest against him, because this feeling is home, not his quarters. But Soundwave feels this way, too. Not quite the same, but something you need just as bad. Missing one when you’re with the other. Always torn between them.

• Tension draining away with the feel of you in his servos, he lifts you higher to brush his lips against your shoulder and cheek. Sees your eyes widen in surprise as you lay a little hand on his chin, your face reddening. But not protesting the contact. Not trying to push him away. Tempting him to demand more when you’re both safely inside his quarters. Replace the scent on you with his, feel you in his arms. He can push just a bit, a taste, a touch, won’t ruin anything between you. He needs to believe that. Needs more.

Previous

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[aroromantic]

BillFord Is About AroAce Trauma And Recovery

Actually, I’m not done.

Someone commented on my last post about this topic that Ford being aroace made BillFord better. And you know what? They’re right! So let’s explore this more.

First, some clarification:

This ship is often described as “toxic yaoi.” I know that toxic yaoi is a fandom term that can be used to describe many sorts of dark and unhealthy relationships and isn’t meant to be taken at face value.

That being said, I feel like its use in the case of this ship has often served to minimize what BillFord actually is within the canon. Whether you see their relationship as platonic, sexual, or romantic, BillFord isn’t toxic; it is canonically ABUSIVE.

There is a very clear power dynamic which defines their relationship where Bill has power over Ford and uses it to manipulate as well as mentally, emotionally, and physically abuse him throughout their entire relationship.

I can further expand on this if need be, but as it is not the focal point of this post, I instead just wanted to give it a bit of focus here in order to clarify that I will be keeping this in mind throughout my analysis of their relationship. If that makes you uncomfortable or just isn’t up your alley, leave now. I won’t judge.

Second, I will not be spending any time defending why I think Ford is aroace. Plenty of people have made these points before and at this point it would just be rehashing an old argument. Please watch the aromantic section of this video and/or read this post for a quick summary if you need it. I also present you with this image which speaks for itself:

Alright, now let's discuss the aroace-ness of it all.

Ford and Amatonormativity

One of the biggest arguments against Ford being aroace is that there is some evidence that he has shown interest in other people before:

Translation of code: “The portal when completed will open a gateway to infinite new worlds and herald a new era in mankinds understanding of the universe. Plus it will probably get girls to start talking to me finally.”

What these arguments often fail to take into account is the concept of amatonormativity. As I mentioned in my previous post, when you are raised to believe that wanting a romantic and/or sexual relationship is the norm, you can often convince yourself its what you should want even if you don’t.

In other words, Ford, who already struggled with being seen as different, likely saw attracting sexual and romantic attention as a sign of his being accepted by others. You’ll notice in the two journal entries above that while he mentions wanting women to be attracted to him, he never really seems to mention having attraction to women himself.

What is important about this is that it means that, from an aroace perspective, Ford can be read as conflating romantic attraction with acceptance from others. Which brings me to my next point:

Bill Cipher, Romance, and Manipulation

Let’s get this off the table: Bill is a Manipulator.

Every action he takes is made to portray himself in a positive light and convince others to help him get what he wants. This is a core part of his character.

So how does this play into his relationship with Ford? First, let's talk about how Bill views romance.

In The Book Of Bill, Bill often directly frames romance as a tool for manipulation:

In other words, whether or not Bill himself had romantic or sexual feelings for Ford (and how much he actually does want these feelings returned, seeing as how there is evidence that he does crave genuine love himself throughout the book even if he directly shuns it), he would have been well aware that taking advantage of Ford’s need for acceptance which, again, he often associated with romantic attention, could be a useful form of manipulation in getting him to, not only give Bill power over him, but also get him to build Bill’s portal without asking questions.

This is further supported by the fact that some of the “tips” Bill gives are shown to have been used on Ford:

What this shows is that, while romance can very clearly be seen as playing a part in the BillFord relationship, romantic attraction itself doesn’t necessarily have to. Both characters can be read as approaching romance from a place outside of attraction, regardless of whether that attraction was there or not.

In other words, the main tension of the BillFord dynamic isn’t necessarily based on romantic or sexual attraction from either character: It’s based on Bill’s manipulation of Ford’s insecurities ABOUT attraction.

BillFord and AroAce Relationship Trauma

So far, we’ve covered how aroace-ness can play a part in the reading of BillFord during their relationship, but what about after the relationship has ended?

First of all, Bill misses Ford

Bill’s feelings are not necessarily romantic in nature, but because The Book Of Bill often codes them as such, I will be treating them that way.

It is mostly via these hints that we get the queer-coding with Bill and Ford's relationship.

What is notable is that Ford is never shown to have the same feelings. Anytime Ford thinks back on his relationship with Bill, he mostly frames it around shame that he fell for Bill’s manipulation tactics in the first place.

Because of this and the fact that Ford often associates romance with acceptance, as discussed above, BillFord can very easily be read as the story of an aroace man leaving an abusive romantic relationship and becoming self-actualized and happy enough to live a life where he does not need romance in order to feel accepted and loved.

More on that in a bit, but first, I want to take a short aside to more closely explore the possible one-sided aspects of the BillFord relationship by taking a look at how it parallels a different Gravity Falls one-sided relationship:

Gideon and Mabel

Seeing as this dynamic is already pretty well known throughout the fandom due to it being explicitly canon within the show, I won’t go into too many details about the specifics, but what I do want to point out is 1) that mabel is often read as aro-spec by a-spec fans herself, and 2) that Gideon’s feelings for Mabel can be read as a parallel to Bill’s feelings about Ford.

So first thing’s first, Mabel can be read as aromantic.

Now hold on, I hear you saying. Isn’t being boy-crazy literally a part of her personality? Isn’t she shown to have a lot of interest in shipping and romance throughout the series? Well, yes! She is!

But, as I mentioned in part 1, wanting a romantic relationship and feeling romantic attraction are not necessarily the same thing. In fact, it is this hyper-interest in romance that typically attracts an aro-spec reading in the first place!

Many aromantic people, especially women and often because of amatonormativity, have stages in their lives where they become really interested in romance because that is what is expected of women and girls around Mabel’s age.

Taking this even further, it is possible to enjoy romantic actions and/or relationships and not feel romantic attraction (cupioromantic, aegoromantic) or even feel romantic attraction only in limited or specific circumstances (frayromantic, lithromantic, greyromantic).

Coupled with the way that many aro-spec people can relate to her discomfort in being in a relationship with Gideon which she felt pressured into by both him and those around her, especially with Gideon’s stalkerish insistence on forcing her to love him even when she can’t and has no desire to, many aro-spec people often see themselves in her.

So what does this have to do with Bill and Ford? Put simply, during Weirdmageddon, Gideon’s feelings for and treatment of Mabel can be seen as paralleling Bill’s feelings for and treatment of Ford.

During Weirdmageddon Part 1, Bill promises Gideon the key to Mabel’s prison, using his feelings for her to keep him in line.

When Dipper calls Gideon out on this, he says the following:

“Bill explained it to me nice and simple. She was always destined to be mine. And now that I have her in a cage, she’ll learn to love me. I have an eternity to wait.”

These lines can easily be read as referring to Bill’s own feelings on Ford who he similarly has locked up under his power at the same time, with the reading only being enhanced by Gideon stating directly that Bill “explained” this point of view to him.

So, when taking into account that Mabel’s experiences with Gideon can also be read as aro-spec in nature, it becomes even easier to see how Ford being read as aroace can help to enhance his and Bill’s one-sided relationship dynamic as well.

Ford’s Recovery and the Power of Familial Love

As well as how reading Ford as aroace could help to show some of the ways in which his feelings about romance left him vulnerable to Bill’s manipulation, it can also help to enhance the ways in which Ford recovered from Bill’s manipulation and moved on to much happier and healthier relationships.

After all, above all else, Ford’s journey is a story about RECOVERY.

First, it is important to note that after Ford discovers that Bill has been manipulating him, Bill’s tactics to use Ford no longer work on him. Bill tries a few different times to try and convince Ford that he needs Bill, both just after Ford shuts down the portal and during weirdmageddon. But he fails each time.

This in itself, doesn’t really matter for an aroace reading. What does matter is the reason Bill continues to fail.

Every single time Bill fails, it is connected to Ford’s love for his family.

When he makes a joke about his “aim getting better,” not only is it a line he remembers from his father, but its one the fandom associates with Stan, his brother. By using it, he rejects Bill with a tactic taught to him by the very people Bill tries to convince him he can’t rely on.

When Bill offers him ultimate power, Ford rejects him immediately. It is only when Bill later threatens his family that Ford begins to consider giving in to him, and even then Stan’s love for all three of them and his sacrifice for them is what saves the entire world and Ford, Mabel, and Dipper's love is what eventually saves Stan.

If you read Ford and Bill’s relationship as romantic, then over and over again, you see this relationship rejected instead for familial love.

It is at this point that I want to make an important clarification:

I don’t believe romance to be a bad thing or something that needs to be rejected by society, nor do I think BillFord should be read as a stand-in for romance as a concept as it clearly is meant to be read as an abusive relationship.

The point I am trying to make with this post isn’t that because abuse can exist within romantic relationships, romance should be fully rejected or that abuse cannot exist in platonic and familial relationships.

The point I am making is that, when reading Ford as aroace and BillFord as romantic, his story becomes one where he goes from an amatonormative standpoint which left him vulnerable to abuse in his search for acceptance via romance, to one where he finds self-acceptance, safety, and love within his platonic bonds instead.

For an aroace audience, this can be an incredibly powerful message. 

Many of us feel a massive amount of pressure from society to conform to societal expectations and settle down with a romantic and sexual partner. Ford’s story works to reject that norm.

In a media landscape saturated with romance, this feels like a story where we can see ourselves.

[n0tamused]

i request thy assistance. urgently.. needeth thee. is there any way thou can deliver some headcanons of what Mr. Reca would be like if his partner were studying for an extensive period of time and needed some loving after it?

much appreciated!

A/n: here you go bbg, I hope this is good enough, mwah! First time writing Reca, so I apologize if this is too short or a bit ooc. Thank you for the request.

Contents: Mr. Reca x GN reader, comfort fluff, not proof-read

-Mr. Reca is no stranger to burning the midnight oil as he has done it in the past himself more times than he cares to count. Often times this would be a result of him indulging a bit too much in his current project and forgetting about the passage of time, other times it was simply a necessity to get something done before the due date

-But he is truly not the biggest subscriber to seeing you burning yourself away. He’d click his tongue when he so much as senses the upcoming exams on your end, his usually cheshire smile replaced by an unamused frown.

-It distracts you so much from the wonders of life - and takes you away from him of course, how dare the exams do such a thing, how can those professors demand so much smh..

-This is too out of character.

-If he could clap his clapper board to re-do this entire segment of your life and trade it for something better and more easy on your mind and body, he would. But alas..

-He truly does admire your perseverance in the field, even with all the trials and tribulations you passed to get to where you are now. Don’t think for a second that he ever forgot; even the tiniest details cannot escape his memory. If his mind was a palace, he’d have a special room, a library, made just for the memories of you. Everything and anything related to you

-While he is busy himself he still feels the shift in the relationship - aka the lack of time spent together and while he doesn’t like it, he won’t distract you from it unless it is to check up on you or if you really burnt away the day at your books.

-While he is not the best at cooking a good meal for you, he will clean up the house while you’re studying, set the table up and clean after you two eat since this guy is gonna order your favorite meal and drinks and make sure you get some good nutrients and hydration in you. He can make simple things…like tea and coffee and maybe some scrambled eggs but honestly that is not good enough for your current situation. 

-He would make you tea before bed - something he also makes you do on time. He is not against using his memokeeper magic to make you come to bed sooner. At times he doesn’t even have to use that, he’d just move the hands on the big clock to make it seem as if hours passed and you’re just too tired to check your phone until you’re tucked away in his arms in bed. 

-If it is still early in the evening he does love to talk to you to pull you out of your study cave mood. Sometimes he can go on tangents about all the elements needed in preparation of a film or a certain aspect that makes a good character and why, other times he tells you about what happened on set last time, his frustrations and such all while having these very animated movements and gestures with his arms or even legs sometimes. He cannot sit still. But if he sees that his yapping is overwhelming you he knows to tone it down to a softer language and volume, just asking you simple questions if you’d like to cuddle or what you’d like to eat.

-He’d drag you over to him, tenderly by the arm and have you lay your head in his lap, cooing softly at how sweet you look like that while his hand goes to smooth through your hair. He would tease you if you were in any better spirits but he just smiles and watches how your lashes flutter shut, your cheeks lightly dusted with blush.

-Reca is very.. colorful with his words and quite creative, so besides the endless list of pet names, some of which are lowkey ridiculous, he is a pro at giving you encouraging words. He can be quite smug when he sees the effect he has on you

-Would definitely talk to you until you fall asleep too, whispering sweet nothings into the top of your head as his hand runs up and down your back, lulling you to sleep.

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[successfulgoddess333]

IDK WHAT TO TITLE THIS??? Just read

I think by creating countless amounts of posts to help people reach the state of shifting or enter the void state is low key pointless

Because why do I have to continue to tell you

A bunch of people I’ll never actually talk to

Irl

How to do something we were all created and born TO DO??

You’re just read this and then proceed to not do it anyway

The reason you’re on here is actually why you “can’t do it”

It’s not that you can’t

You won’t

Because you’re procrastinating but not only are you procrastinating you’re also

Trying to figure out how to do something

You’ve always known what to do

I read somewhere some ppl can’t enter the void

Because it was scientifically proven that we all have different parts of brains that’ll allow it or something I don’t remember but google it

I think that’s weird

Because the void state is literally conscious

Every single human being has consciousness

And we can all access it through meditation hypnosis etc

Why some ppl enter it more easily

Is because they don’t overthink it most ppl look at it as a “oooh I wanna try it”

When you’re excited to try something you don’t over complicate it or assume it’s not gonna work

Even if you do you’re still too excited to try it to care

it’s important that if you’ve already discovered the loa void state and shifting

You should continue to believe in it

But the actions matter just as much as the intentions

Your actions shouldn’t be wavering like

Is it real?

But then saying you believe it is

Figure it out

Do you believe in it or not?

Stop confusing your subconscious mind

Now back to what I was saying earlier

You keep treating it like a chore or a job

When you finally lay down to meditate you think

“What’s takin so long?”

Babe

Your impatience is the reason you’re not getting it

The whole point is for relaxation but since you’ve all put it on a pedestal

With the manifesting

You act as if

It’s a wish granter

It’s not

You are the reason you get your desire

You could get in the void rn but you’d only get your desires if YOU say your affirmations

Stop

Waiting to enter the void

If you have this mindset it’s not gone happen

Think of it as a

You’re setting the intention and just vibing

That’s why my method with the music works so well

Because I don’t overthink with music on

Music keeps me awake mentally and certain songs keep me relaxed physically

Plus it’s a good energy then just depending on a subliminal or something

It’s not doing it for you

My method plus ppl on here literally getting in the void

With no background noise is proof that subliminals are just guiding you to a destination you were already going to reach on your own

So what to take from this post

1. Stop depending on subliminals it’s fine to use them but thinking it’s gonna get your results is putting power into something that isn’t as powerful as you

2. Procrastination is going to be the cost of a life you could be living The more you linger on this looking for the answers you already know the longer you’ll be living in a world you are desperately trying to escape from congrats you’ve got a Dr you can daydream and escape this reality mentally but what’s the fun in that? That life you keep fantasizing is real and the universe knows how bad you want it so why fantasize? Go there

3. Why are you wondering how ppl get in the void easily? Simply just stop thinking about it so much literally just meditate think affirm whatever don’t even think of the void but still have that intention in your mind you wanna move your body? Why? You hate this reality you wanna block out all the physicality it actually feels so good to just be in a moment of peace I’m telling y’all the key to entering the void shifting etc other OOB experiences is literally just stop paying attention

You know so many ppl with adhd

Or other neurodivergent disorders think it’s so difficult to focus

But I remember years ago I accidentally entered the void without knowing what it was

I was so sleepy I laid down

Got distracted by a thought

And literally it went black for like five seconds and I felt nothing

So literally just stop paying attention

Affirm

If you want

Set the intention count whatever

Or you could just set the intention and just think

Of literally anything

That doesn’t cause physical reactions like a funny thought you’d laugh at

But just pretend you’re dreaming like how you normally would

Which brings me to my method

THE DREAM METHOD:

You could pretend to be dreaming

Like if you can’t visualize it still use your sense

Image your dreaming

And in that dream you’re living your dream life or you could “dream” that you’re in the void

However you want your void to look

By not moving you’re tricking your body into thinking you’re asleep

And by pretending to be dreaming

You’re tricking your mind into thinking

You’re both sleeping and dreaming

This will make you either dream Forreal

Or you could use this to get in the void

When or if you feel symptoms

By the way

Those floaty etc symptoms are actually signs that you’re astral projecting because shifting your awareness is a mind thing

NOT an outer body experience

So if you feel floaty dizzy spinning etc

You are astral projecting

BUT

You can use astral projection to shift and to enter the void

You’re Welcome

Also P.S but have you ever zoned out and stared at something til your vision got all blurry and background noises get fuzzy and whatever you’re focused on is the only think you can subconsciously focus on?

Yeahhh it’s a trance

Try doing this while meditating with your eyes open then close them and keep doing it

What ever you were focus on

Close your eyes

Set the intention

Affirm for a bit

Breathe then

Imagine something

Anything you’d want

And pretend to dream

By just visualizing or thinking or using your senses

You could put on an instrumental and imagine your doing a music video

If you feel symptoms just remember

Nothings physically happening to you

So why focus on it?

If someone saw you you’d still be in bed

Not moving

Itchy feelings mean your body is feeling as if you’re awake

There’s no actual physical symptoms of entering the void

Because it’s not really an out of body experience it’s you shifting your awareness has nothing to do with your body

Since you’re shifting to the 4D

The 4D is not physical

I may have mentioned symptoms in my previous posts I don’t remember I’m not a hypocrite I just learn and get more educated

But no matter

Take this how you want

And even if I could help

I could never get you into the void state

It’s literally me trying to tell YOUR subconscious mind to do something you already know how to do

Like cmon

Also

You don’t need the void to shift

Trust me there’s a gagillion methods

Another also

You don’t even need a method just lay down don’t move

Trust me weird shit will happen

[batchilla]

False Accusations (You know I KNOW right? Chapter Two)

Let me first say thank you for all the kind reception part one received. It was … a surprise, and a welcome one.

Also, a massive thank you to @sunnie-angel for beta reading. If you haven’t read their work… Do yourself a favor and check out their masterlist!

This Chapter takes place over a few days in two mini stories., and I would appreciate being told if at any point this causes confusion. Currently how I’ve done it is as tilted segments. Content warning: this chapter has themes of sexual harassment in the workplace up to the point of groping (from an OC), and corruption. Proceed with caution. Be safe.

The morning after. You are going to murder your partner, Grayson. Perhaps with a gun. Maybe your own two hands. Or maybe you just need coffee.

It's probably the coffee thing. Coffee, then you’ll decide if you're going to kill him and how. As you sit at your table, surrounded by notes you’d made at 4am, the urge to throttle Grayson slowly subsides. You hadn’t slept a wink. You’d had a weird night. But if you were going to do this, help him find this killer… you’d need a plan for if it all goes to hell. A diversion. A plan so that if you’re made, maybe the killer will think you’re on the wrong track. A dummy investigation. But simultaneously one that you won’t overthink, so that you can devote your time and brainpower to the truth. Luckily for you, you have the perfect person to pretend to accuse. After all, your partner, Grayson, is an incredibly weird guy. 8:55 am finds you walking into the station sipping your third coffee of the morning, only to find Grayson sat at his desk. Shirt pressed, tie perfect, hair shampoo commercial glamourous yet slightly messy. The urge to murder your partner returns, just a little. How dare he be so… normal? So unaffected? How dare this man fight crime by night, and be smiling at you as he is now, chipper and bright and perfect, before 9am? The nerve. Maybe you could hit him with a patrol car and claim it was an accident. “Morning detective… Long night?”

Oh.. This fucker. Your partner, Grayson, is the most annoying man alive. You hate how badly you have to fight the urge to grin at the sheer audacity.

She looks exhausted, the poor thing. Dick remembered the feeling, but at some point he’d adapted to running on less sleep than was by any means reasonable. He hoped she wouldn’t need to. That this would be over in a few weeks and she’d be back to getting a full eight hours. “Morning Detective… Long night?” She glares at him like he’s caused personal offence. He raises an eyebrow at her to prompt a response. Inside though, he panics. Had he done something wrong? Could she suspect? No. no of course not. But whatever she said next would surely be important. It was a test of sorts. What would she say she’d spent the night doing? Would she betray his alter ego? Could she sell the lie if she didn’t? “Just had a night in, had a little too much to drink,” she shrugs, opening her bag and removing a notebook. Casual, calm, partially true and nearly impossible to disprove short of a blood test or breathalyser, and even then there was deniability. Dick nods, and looks back down to his computer to hide the grin that splits his face in half. He knows he can’t dwell on it, knows he can’t act on it, but it’s completely unfair that she was that smooth. That helpful. She’d agreed to help him - as Nightwing - instantly. Her words about how Blud owed him a debt had played in his mind on loop for the rest of his patrol. He knew what it felt like to fly. To flip through the air at dizzying heights, gravity a mere afterthought. It was cruel, frankly, that he’d found someone who made him feel even better than that, only for her to be someone he couldn’t be with out of principle and professionalism. It wasn’t that he objected to her as a partner - short of his family, she was possibly the best he’d ever met. Frankly, if she was transferred to Gotham, the bat signal would be turned on far less frequently. And he didn’t object to rules about dating fellow officers, especially one’s partner. Objectively it made sense. But it didn’t change the fact that her smile was the best part of his day. That on the rare times she laughed he could swear he heard an angel just straight up quit its position in the heavenly chorus out of pure envy. That when she’d said she’d help he’d wanted nothing more than to grab her face and kiss her till she was breathless. But he can’t. Or at least Dick Grayson can’t. A new voice breaks him from his spiralling thoughts. “Detective Grayson.” The man standing behind his partner's desk has a hand on the back of her seat, preventing her from swivelling around. 

“We haven’t met yet, I’m Sergeant James McElroy. Seems you spent most of my first day back stuck on a stakeout.” “Pleasure.” he responds, with all the charm he’s learnt to use at galas and parties, forcing down the venom incurred by the way his partner had seemed to lose a gallon of blood at the sound of his voice, and the way she had seemed not to breath since the name was spoken.

He's not touching you. Of course not. He knows better than to do anything so blatant. It's how he’d gotten away with it for so long last time. He doesn’t touch you, or say the things he was so clearly thinking. He would masterfully walk the line between making you feel unsafe, alone, and naked, while never crossing over into anything actionable. Till one day he had. It had been in a crowded lift where he’d used the crush as an excuse to grab and to feel, whispering something vile in your ear. 

He’d figured he’d gotten away with it when you tried to tell your captain and he’d asked if you had a witness. You’d thought he’d gotten away with it too. Till a uniformed officer, Janet Rodwell, had stepped up to have your back. You should have known, really. For the second time in 24 hours you feel like a fool. But while the first time it had been accompanied with a dizzying realisation of love, this time the realisation is dark and chilling to your core. You’d thought you’d won, that it was over. But he’s back and he’s not touching you, but you feel the ghost of his hands all over. You can’t win. He’d been sent away and you thought you were safe again, but he’s back and he’s a sergeant now. Because Bludhaven, as it is, rewards men like him. You can’t bring yourself to look over your shoulder at him, so you look straight ahead, across your desk and to your partner’s adjoining one.

It's not Dick Grayson’s eyes you meet though. They aren’t cheerful, carefree and beautiful. Well, they are beautiful. But they are angry, intelligent, and fierce. You meet Nightwings gaze, and you feel the claws around your lungs relax, even if they do not recede. 

His partner did not rattle easily. Did not panic unnecessarily. 

Pinned down by the Penguin’s smugglers, he’d thought their goose had been cooked unless he could work at his true capacity, so he had shot out the lights and gotten to work. He’d taken out nine, but been unable to find the tenth, until he’d heard the struggle. 

She’d taken him down blind, without drawing her gun. When he’d asked her why she hadn’t, she’d told him she’d lost sight of him in the chaos, and was unwilling to risk it. He wished he hadn’t shot the light out so he could have seen it. 

Still, he had been oblivious. It had hit him like a batarang to the face last night, in that moment where she agreed without hesitation to help him find a serial killer. He’d known she was beautiful, and brilliant. That he had a crush. 

He’d realised last night he was in far, far deeper trouble than that. So, if she was frightened and upset by the presence of this man, then Dick would take his looming over her as a serious threat. He trusted her gut. “You haven’t introduced yourself to my partner, Detective—-” He’s cut off with a dismissive wave that boils his blood. “Oh we’ve met. In fact, she was my partner first. Until the misunderstanding.” There are many ways to snap someone out of a panic. He’s seen sheer rage do it many times. As it does now. “There was no misunderstanding,” she says, her voice firm, her teeth gritted. “Well. I want you to know-” he moves from directly behind her, to her side, leaning down over her, invading her space. Dick wanted to hit him. “I understand that what I did could have been seen as invasive, and you may have felt that I overstepped. I have completed a course, as demanded by HR, and will attempt not to cause you to feel that I have been inappropriate again.”

She takes a deep breath. He can practically hear her count in his head. He stands, moving around the desk to stand beside her, not quite a barrier but a comforting presence, or at least he hoped. “Well. Whatever occurred, we have work to be getting on with, if you don’t mind.” It takes a great deal of the restraint his training has given not to add the words ‘you bastard’, or something far more creative. “But of course. Detective. Detective.”  

Your hands shake as you sit back down in your seat. Your partner, Grayson, returns to his own, his gaze - Richard’s gaze, never leaving your face, crumpled in concern. “I don’t want to overstep… but are you alright? What … did he do?” “I…” you want to tell him, in part. Or maybe you don’t, and you want him to know without having to go through the ordeal of rehashing it all. Maybe by consulting whatever ‘oracle’ he used as nightwing. But you can’t right now. So you don’t. “I… need some air.” Your partner just gives you a comforting smile, a nod, and lets you leave without question. Wingding in the window 

It's five days later, on his patrol, when he notices it. The wingding left in her window. He stops on the roof of the building adjacent to her. As far as city roofs go, this one’s relatively nice. Someone’s placed some potted plants around, in an eclectic attempt at a rooftop garden. Some of these pots contain small pebbles as cover for the soil from the wind. Grinning to himself, he takes a handful. 

Was this a good idea? No. 

Was it deceptive? Well, no more than anything else he did as Nightwing… well, maybe a little more. 

But it hurt, holding her at arm's length, when a part of his soul he tried to ignore yearned to be as close as she would allow. He knows it’s not good. He knows it’s a violation of the utter trust she seems to hold in Nightwing. Really, it would only make things even more messy for his chances as Dick. But he wants to make her smile. Blush, even. He knows she finds him attractive, and in both contexts, but he wants more than that. Over the last week he’s realised just how much he wants to have with her, and it terrifies him. 

If it was simple lust he could deal with it.  But it wasn’t, and so here he was, about to attempt the cheesiest move known to hallmark films, just to see if it would make her laugh at him again. 

He’d managed to be professional while surrounded by highly capable, badass women in skintight clothes for most of his life. He’d had crushes before and gotten over them. He wanted everything with her. And that was not something he knew how to handle, given the mess of their situation. Dick shakes his head, snapping himself out of his doom spiral. He had a detective to meet, and a serial killer to find.

Bap. Bap. Bap. You look up from your book. You’d been getting ready for sleep, wearing your cosy pyjamas, curled up in bed with a book and a hot chocolate. You go still, listening. Bap. Bap. A pause. Then, the rap of knuckles on glass. “I ran out of rocks”

You know that voice. “With you in a moment.” You pull on a dressing gown, and take a moment to curse the fact that your slippers are rabbits before pulling the curtains aside. Nightwing is crouched on your windowsill. You lift it, stepping back as he enters through the window with all the grace of a cat. You know that you shouldn’t be embarrassed to be in your pyjamas, it's late, you had no means of knowing when he’d arrive. But he looked divine in that suit. An adonis. And you're in your old bathrobe and bunny slippers. Truely, you must have done terrible things in a past life. “Nice footwear.” Nightwing says with a smirk. Curse him. Curse his cheekbones and the way his lips look so damn inviting. “You picked up what, five rocks?” you sass right back. Nightwing makes a noise you suspect was supposed to be a scoff, but is more of a squeak. “Do you see a lot of pocket space on this?” 

“Fair.” you say, leading him out of your bedroom and into your living room. He sits on your couch, one leg spread wide, the other’s ankle resting on its thigh, as you open a drawer on your coffee table and produce your masterpiece. Nearly five metres of red string. Names, photos, dates, all studded with pins so pressed so tightly in they haven’t a prayer of accidental removal. You prop it up on the coffee table. 

Maybe your friends were right. Maybe you did need to touch grass. A line of thought for later. You look at Nightwing, who’s no longer relaxed and laying back on your sofa like he owned the place. 

Its years of maintaining a poker face in interrogations and more recently, dealing with his shenanigans that prevents you from grinning. 

He's as pale as you’ve ever managed to see him, and leaning forward now, elbow on knee and chin in hand. “Well, this is… impressive.” He sounded like he’d inhaled helium. “Shall we start with Sergeant McElroy?” you offer, smiling your best ‘there’s nothing wrong’ smile, enjoying making him squirm. “You seem to have … a significant amount of evidence against Detective Richard Grerson?” You fight the urge to roll your eyes as you take a ruler, poking your picture of him between the eyes. You hadn’t planned to do him first, you’d hoped to discuss evidence that would actually lead somewhere. 

This was still going to be fun though. You take a deep breath, and pause for a suitable level of dramatic effect, and begin your game. 

“Detective Richard Grayson. He’s my partner. He’s an excellent detective, and a good man. You might have heard of the charity he founded.” Nightwing makes a noncommittal humming noise. “But is it all too good to be true?” you ask, moving to your first notecard. “Exhibit one. He asked about the file. On its own, innocuous. But then, exhibits two through four. He’s prone to frequent disappearances on cases. He often knows a little too much about the criminal underside of Blud. Things that I have triple checked are not in any police database.”

You run a hand through your hair. “He’s a highly trained combatant. I once saw him take down nine men armed with guns, in the dark. They don’t teach that at the police academy.” “No? No.” Nightwing says, clearing his throat. “I mean yes. That is… suspicious.” “Incredibly. Which brings me to exhibit five. Now I’m no behavioural analyst or shrink. But I know my basics. Childhood trauma and instability can have… lingering impacts. I… don’t feel the need to dredge up his past, but I did look into it… and it’s grim. He was then taken in by Bruce Wayne. His relationship to his father, whatever it is, is something he’s even tighter lipped about then… everything else honestly. It’s not on the board because it’s circumstantial at best… but he has this skill of being able to hold long conversations and yet you come away not having learnt anything deeper about him.” 

He was pretty sure he’d been nodding for a good thirty seconds at this point.  

It would be funny if it didn’t hurt so much. 

The worst part was that it was all well reasoned. Practical. He had done everything she accused him of. She had just drawn a far more down to earth conclusion, that he was a corrupt cop, rather than Nightwing. 

It made sense. Too much sense. How could he shut this down without seeming invested in his own innocence? 

That isn’t what causes his lungs to burn though. No. The root of that was that even if he’d forced himself to maintain a professional - if friendly - distance from her, he would have hoped that she trusted him. 

But in this moment, looking at the evidence, looking at her holding that ruler to his photo’s face like a judge's gavel ready to condemn… he knows. He knows that she will never look at Dick the way she does as Nightwing, happy to see him, believing in his mission, ready to help as soon as he’d asked. Even if he clears himself of this crime, she would surely suspect him of others. 

He’d known it, at least on one level, ever since he’d first met her. He knows it now all the deeper, and he wants to scream. Dick Grayson will never get to tell her how truly wonderful she is.

How highly he regards her. 

How she is one of the reasons he keeps fighting for Bludhaven. 

Dick Grayson will never get to tell her that he loves her. 

But… perhaps Nightwing could have something. Because if she was his north star, then the way he’d felt when she agreed to help him had been like being engulfed by a supernova. 

If she was water, then seeing her cosy and ready for bed and smiling as she let him in through the window had been an oasis in the Sahara. 

If music was the food of love, her attempts not to laugh and stifled giggles over his peeps popcorn had been a symphony orchestra. 

But he’d never have her as himself. Not at all. Nightwing though? She at least found him attractive. Aligned with his ideology. No, he’d never feel that warmth of 10,000 stars directed at the real him. 

No, he’d never be able to be quenched by her life saving presence. 

No, he’d never feel her laughter shaking his bones as if in a musical crescendo.

But even the dimmest and most distant star gave off some light.

Even the last drop in an empty water skin was better than nothing.

Even the memory of a melody could be sweet. True, he would only ever have scraps of her affection. True, he could flirt, and perhaps go even further… but he’d never truly be with her. 

But who was a starving man to deny scraps of sustenance? He’d take what he could have and try to ignore the lingering hunger. 

“Perhaps we should discuss… another suspect?” he prompts, realising how long he’s been silent. How long she had been too, watching him with a strange, concerned look.

She nods, and moves on to their Captain.

Dick is almost relieved when some ten minutes later Oracle calls in a robbery downtown. “Well - sorry Sherlock.” He takes a picture of her board for further study. “I’ll be around next week to continue this discussion, and look over this in my own time till then. Duty calls.” “Be safe,” She says softly, as he’s halfway through the window He looks over his shoulder. “As you wish.”

Taglist: @jasontoddproblems

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@stormz369

@love-theangel-blog

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@soradragon Banner credit is to @strangergraphics

If you would request to be added to my taglist, please reblog the fic. Honestly please just reblog it anyway? I worked hard on this. Nothing more demotivating than a fic getting only likes. If you want part three, reblog part two. 

[lovegalor333]

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

safe house pt 2 (previous part)

summary: read previous part, this is a direct continuation.

content warnings: domestic violence

You wake up in your best friends bed, last night still fresh in your mind. It plagued your dreams, waking you up out of your sleep multiple times, heart racing in a panic until you realised you were nowhere near your boyfriend, you were safe. For now.

Nightmares were a regular occurrence for you, especially after his outbursts. You would dream of him choking you and you’d wake up gasping for air and he’d be sleeping soundly as if nothing was wrong.

You spent a lot of nights staring up at the ceiling not daring to even breathe too loud incase you woke him and you would wonder if this is what your life was destined to be like forever. Would you always live in fear? It felt like it. It felt like there was no way out and he had told you as much.

“You’ll never leave.”

“You couldn’t survive without me.”

“You need me.”

“Without me, you’re nothing.”

“You’re mine. I own you.”

“The day you leave me will be your last.”

He’d spoken these words for so long you believed them. You believed you needed him. You believed you couldn’t survive without him. You believed he owned you. And you especially believed that the day you left him would be your last. He had a short fuse, he was violent and unpredictable and one too many times you thought you wouldn’t survive his beatings.

You’ve been victim to multiple black eyes and busted lips over the most insignificant things. One time it was because you had fallen asleep on the couch after a long day. Another time it was because his team had lost a match. Bruises covered your body constantly and in the worst instance, you had suffered a broken nose. That time, you didn’t leave the apartment for weeks just to avoid the barrage of questions that you wouldn’t be able to answer truthfully.

Allie was no longer laid beside you like she was last night when you fell asleep, you wasn’t sure how long she’d been up, she must have been very careful not to wake you and you were grateful for the extra sleep.

You slip out of bed and catch your reflection in the mirror and you audibly gasp, “Shit.”

The bruising around your eye had developed overnight, it was a deep shade of red and extremely swollen. You traced your fingers over it gently and winced at the pain it caused. The split on your lip had dried over and a scab had begun to form, it hurt to open your mouth and you knew it would sting like a bitch when it came to eating and drinking. The hand marks around your neck had deepened too, they were more prominent today and you swallowed hard, remembering the feeling of the air be squeezed out of you. Your ribs hurt with every intake of breath and after lifting your shirt, you could see why. Your torso was littered with bruises and scuffs caused by your boyfriends foot.

You knew deep down leaving the apartment last night was the right thing to do, for your own safety but you also knew it will have made your situation today worse. You had to go back, there was nowhere else to go. It was your home, all of your things were there but you knew he’d be waiting, as soon as you stepped foot back inside and he wouldn’t be happy.

You could hear Allie and her roommates in the living room, they were talking in hushed voices but you could still make out your name when it was spoken.

You pressed your ear up against the door in an attempt to listen.

“I’ve known Y/N a long time. She won’t leave him. You think I haven’t tried before?” That was Allie.

“Obviously not hard enough, Allie. She’s being beaten black and blue.” That was Paige and her voice was raised several octaves higher, she sounded angry and you flinched at her tone.

“OK, calm down. Let’s just speak to her and see what she wants to do.” Jana tried to reason with the girls.

“No. Seeing what she wants to do isn’t an option. She’s brainwashed by him, not to mention scared out of her mind. Of course she’s not going to want to leave him but I’m not letting this go on for any longer. I told her last night was the last time he’d hurt her and I meant it.” Paige says quieter this time but she still sounded angry.

Last night was the first time Paige had seen you after one of your boyfriends outbursts and you hadn’t expected it to evoke this kind of reaction. Most people didn’t know what to say, they’d just ignore it. It was like the elephant in the room.

You’re crying now as you listen to the girls talk about you, you felt bad that you had dragged them into your mess.

“She can’t stay there anymore.” That was Paige again.

“That’s her apartment, she has nowhere else to go.” That was Allie.

“She’ll stay here until we figure it out.” Paige, again.

You appreciated what Paige was saying but ultimately, Allie was right. You weren’t going to leave your boyfriend, you couldn’t.

You dried you tears quickly and readied yourself to face the girls. Your hand shook as you opened Allies door and you took a deep breath as you stepped out. Everyones eyes immediately fell on you and you felt like a deer in headlights. Allie looked at you sympathetically while Jana, who hadn’t seen you last night, looked shocked at your injuries and Paige had a deep frown set on her face and it looked like she was about to cry.

“Thank you for letting me stay but I should be getting home.” You tried your best not let your voice falter but it came out in a shaky croak you cursed yourself for sounding so weak.

Paige looked at Allie, silently saying stop her but Allie just raised her brows in response as if to say what can I do?

“I don’t think you should go home.” Paige brakes the silence and stands from the couch.

“I have to.” You murmur.

“You don’t.” Allies also standing now.

“I do, you don’t get it. None of you get it.” You snap and run your fingers through your hair in frustration.

“No, we don’t, but we can’t let you go back there. You’re not safe.” Paige responds, walking over to where you’re stood and she reaches out to touch you or hug you, you’re not sure but you jump back at her advance.

“I’m sorry.” She mutters, letting her hand fall back down to her side.

You shake your head, “I have to go.”

“Y/N, please don’t.” Paige pleads and the tears that have been threatening to fall finally do and you’re sobbing in your friend’s living room, not knowing what to do.

Allie calms you down and her and Paige continue to beg you not to return to your apartment. They say you can stay with them for as long as you like and you allow yourself to dreams of days not poisoned by your abuser.

“All my stuff is there.” You whisper after a while. If you were really going to do this, if you were really going to leave him, it wouldn’t be easy.

You wasn’t sure what scared you more, going back and being at his mercy or trying to leave and him doing everything in his power to not allow you.

“We can help you do that. Ayanna and KK are coming over, we can go and get your stuff.” Paige tells you and you shake your head, “I’m coming with you.” You say, your boyfriend was unpredictable on a good day, you were not about to put Paige or Ayanna or KK in his firing line.

Ayanna and KK arrived shortly after and you sat awkwardly as Paige explained the situation, you felt like a victim, weak and frail and you hated that but the girls met you with nothing but love and support and you thanked them continuously as you drove to your apartment. You were really about to do this.

“I should go in first.” You say as the four of you stood outside of your front door. Music blasted from the other side so you knew your boyfriend was home.

“We’re coming in.” Ayanna states and your hand shakes as you push the key in the lock and turn it, opening the door.

“Just pack your stuff and we’ll get you out of here.” Paige whispers into your ear, she’s behind you and her hand comes to the small of your back and you flinch at the unexpected touch, you keep doing that but you can’t help it, you’re so used to violent hands, it’s all you expect now.

The apartment was not how you left it, in the few hours you’d been gone, it had been trashed. Dirty laundry was thrown onto the floor, dinner plates from last night had been smashed, pizza boxes lay discarded on the table, beer bottles too. This was expected, but what hurt the most was seeing your personal items destroyed, a frame that held a picture of you and your sister had been shattered, shards of glass everywhere, multiple items of your clothing looked as though Edward Scissorhands himself had got at them and your favourite books had the pages ripped out of them and thrown across the room.

You look back at the girls with tears in your eyes, trying to gauge their reactions and their faces say it all, “He’s a freak.” KK mutters picking up your cut up clothes.

You take cautionary steps to your bedroom knowing he’s in there.

“Where the fuck have you been?” He spits, he was laid on the bed but quickly got up when he saw you.

“I stayed at a friends.” You gulp as he steps closer to you, so close you can smell the alcohol on his breath.

“What friend?” He pushes, his hand coming up to grip your jaw, “And don’t lie.” He snarled bringing his face directly up to yours.

“A-Allie.” You stutter out and try to wriggle away from him but that only makes his grip tighten before he shoves you away from him making you stumble back into the living room. Paige is by your side in a heartbeat and you watch your boyfriends face contort into a scowl and his eye twitches in anger, “Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m helping Y/N get her stuff. You’re not hurting her anymore.” Paige asserts, moving herself to stand in front of you. You’re completely shielded by her tall, muscular frame and you were so used to seeing your boyfriend as big and intimidating in comparison to you but Paige made him seem nothing short of ordinary. At 6’0, she stood at the same height as him and her biceps bulged in her tight t-shirt making his look like nothing special.

He laughed a deep sinister laugh but you knew he found nothing funny and his eyes grew dark as he stepped towards Paige but she didn’t move one bit, she stood her ground, “Get your stuff, Y/N.” She says turning to you but you’re frozen in place, scared to move.

Your boyfriend notices KK and Ayanna and he scoffs, “What are these, your fucking bodyguards?”

You don’t reply so he lunges at you but not before Paige can pull you behind her again, “Back up bro.” She hissed holding her hands out to keep him away.

“Get your stuff.” Paige says again turning to you and pointing to your room and this time you move with conviction. You weren’t alone now, you were getting out of here.

KK helped you stuff what was left of your clothes into a suitcase. You collected your belongings from around the room, your stuffed animal, makeup, books, your laptop, packing them all into various bags. Your movements were rushed and frantic and your attention was on the repeated smashing and crashing sounds coming from the living room and kitchen.

“That’s everything.” You say to KK, zipping up your case and she nods, picking up multiple bags in each hand while you wheeled the suitcase behind her.

In the living room, every surface had been wiped clear of whatever stood there before, a vase was shattered on the floor, the coffee table had been flipped and a lamp laid in pieces on the rug.

Your boyfriend was fuming and he couldn’t get to you so he was destroying anything and everything he could get his hands on. You thank God that he hadn’t touched Paige or Ayanna, they just stood watching him have a complete meltdown.

“Ready?” Paige asks seeing you with all your possessions packed and you nod, not able to string together even a simple sentence. Your hands were clammy and your heart was beating so fast you could hear it. You never thought this day would come.

“You’ve lost your mind if you think you’re going anywhere.” Your boyfriend booms at you.

You walked to the door with hurried steps and he reaches out to grab you but you dodge his grasp, something you’ve been afraid to do for so long but you’re not afraid anymore, you’re determined. Determined to leave, determined to survive this relationship that’s been nothing short of hell on earth.

“Y/N if you leave, you’ll regret it. I’ll make you regret it!” He threatened, picking up a beer bottle and hurling it in your direction. You feel it brush past your ear before it smashes on the ground in front of you and you yelp at the sound as tiny shards of glass crunch under your steps.

“Get her out of here.” Paige instructs her friends, opening the front door ushering you all out but you stop on the threshold, “Come on, Paige.” You urged, not wanting to leave her alone in the apartment.

“Give me a minute.” Her words are softer and calmer when they’re directed at you. You don’t want to leave her but KK and Ayanna don’t give you much choice as they guide you away from the apartment that was filled with some of the worst memories you have.

You stay in the hall, the door to the apartment still open and you hear everything Paige says.

“Y/N is never coming back here. You’re never going to put your hands on her again. You’ve hurt her for long enough and it stops now. You won’t make her regret anything and if I hear that you go anywhere near her, you’ll regret it. Do you hear?” Her voice is strong and dominant and you hold your breath waiting for his response but there is none. “Do you fucking hear?” He must nod because Paige mumbled a good before joining you in the hall, closing the door behind her and you let out the breath you had been holding in.

Paige has the picture of your sister and you in her hands and she passes it to you with a small smile, “Thought you might want this.” She says and you thank her holding the picture close to your chest, such a small action meant more than she’ll ever know.

“It’s done, Y/N. You’re out of there and you never have to go back.” Paige says closing the trunk of her car after filling it with your bags.

KK and Ayanna are already sat inside, “Thank you.” you whisper looking up to Paige, her big blue eyes sharing down at you, “Can I touch you?” She asks tentatively and you nod. You want to say please but stop yourself.

And for the first time, you don’t flinch or recoil at Paiges touch, as her arms wrap around you protectively, you melt into her and just allow yourself to be held.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

a/n: sorry this took so long, ive been so busy but thank you for all the requests for a part 2! i hope this does it justice 💋🫂

[requiemforthepoets]

you’re the closest to heaven that i’ll ever be 𖦹 CL16 series

PAIRINGS: charles leclerc x celestial!reader

SUMMARY: the celestials are unseen guides who help souls cross the afterlife. you are bound to the earthly realm by your duty, and had formed a unique connection with charles along the way after he had caught a glimpse of you. charles can’t seem to get you out of his mind, so he began seeking for you, and you began to grapple with your duty and the growing attachment towards charles, realizing that the only way to truly be with him is to give up your immortality, experiencing human emotions, pain, and vulnerability.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: some people may find this fic offensive, concept of divine beings and heaven & life and death, no use of y/n, angels and devils, mentions of papa leclerc (beginning is set in 2017) and jules bianchi, fluff, falling (literally & figuratively) in love, named side characters, angst but with a happy ending, purely written fic, a little bit of world building (concepts), mentions of death, bad/evil people, and cursing.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: hi! i’ve been gone for a while bc i really wanted to take a break. my mental health wasn’t really doing good the past few weeks, and my inspiration & will to write fics hasn’t been that great, but this series is a project that i had been working on while i was taking a break—somehow i was able to be inspired. i’ve been watching a lot of movies, and this series was inspired by ‘city of angel’ a 1998 movie. tbh, this will be my first time writing a fic in this kind of genre, since i don’t really write fantasy fics, but as they say, there’s a first for everything!

i know that this fic won’t be some people’s cup of tea, but if you don’t like, then don’t read. that’s all. updates for this series will be a bit slow. i hope that you’ll enjoy this series as much as i enjoyed writing it.

status ❀ on-going | date started ❀ 11/04/24 | playlist

i. will be posted soon!

[ahhnini]

temperance - frat!rafe x tarot!reader

warnings - rafe being a jealous guy, slow burning with rafe is slow burning, not proofread!

the star / the world / texts pt one

soft classical music played over the shop, you’d just finished a reading with a client and you’re making polite talk with him as you clean your space. rafe was in the back, making himself a cup of coffee.

“i’ve been really interested in these things but never got the chance to do any research, can you tell me more?” your client, derek, asks. you nod your head, showing him to the tarot aisle of your shop. all the meanwhile, rafe is leaning against the doorframe, keen eyes watching over you.

“here are the cards we have in stock! for first time users i’d recommend the classic rider tarot deck,” you pull one from off the shelf, “it was originally made in italy and has the most powerful symbolism. the guidebook that comes with this can be hard to read, but there’s a ton of free guidebooks online. we also have some physical copies of guidebooks if you wanna check ‘em out,” you smile, handing him the box. your hands brush against each other. feeling an electric shock run through your body, you flinch away. derek softly smiles at you, pushing a stray hair behind your ear, and you whisper a “thank you.” you then nod shortly, clearing your throat, “oh, you also need some incense to cleanse them before you begin bonding,” “bonding?”

he follows you to the corner filled with incense sticks, “yeah, so your cards can resonate with you. if you go right into readings they won’t resonate as much and you may get some overly negative readings if you don’t cleanse,” you hand him three sticks of incense, “you can use one, just giving you a couple extra!” you beam, his hand lingering over yours again. he softly chuckles, taking the sticks. “how do you ‘bond’ with your cards?” he asks, taking a step closer towards you.

“usually, after I cleanse them I put them under my pillow and sleep with it. then I start doing a reading on myself and keep doing said reading until everything starts to resonate,” you sigh, “it’s a long process, but it’s an efficient one.”

your lips form a small smile as he nods. you bring him to the checkout counter, ringing up his items, “thank you for your services again today, I really appreciate it. and thank you for telling me more about tarot,” your polite smile widens into a genuine one, “you’re very welcome, derek,” derek hands you a hundred dollar bill, and you open your register to give him his change before he interrupts you, “—you can keep the change,” your eyes widen and you stumble upon your words, “oh—thank you!” he lets out a soft hum, grabbing his bag. before he leaves your shop, he turns around, approaching you again, “I might forget the process of cleansing the cards and bonding or whatnot, so…in case I forget, do you mind if I call you?”

you lightly scoff, a soft giggle emitting from your lips, “smooth,” you click your tongue, handing him a business card, “here, that’s my personal number, but don’t tell everyone that,” he takes a glance at the card before exiting your store, the ringing of the bells overpowering the soft music for a moment.

“smooth?” rafe walks over to you, eyes dark. you cross your arms, facing him. “yeah? it was,” you shrug. he rolls his eyes, “you’re not actually gonna call him, right?” “why not? if he needs help with his cards i’m gonna give help,” you try to squeeze past him, but his broad frame doesn’t let you through. “rafe. relax,” “he was flirting!” his eyes widen and his arms flail in the air. “no shit he was, besides, i’m only gonna give him tarot advi—are you jealous?” rafe’s face turns bright pink, no longer being able to hold eye contact with you, “n-no,” “oh, rafe cameron is jealous,” you poke at his chest playfully.

“just don’t want you to be calling him while we’re sharing a room, I like my peace and quiet,” his voice is soft.

“uh-huh…” you reply, walking back to your workstation as you mumble to yourself, “definitely jealous.”

taglist - @nemesyaaa @julie123456897 @mfdoomdickrider @grxnde-dwt @littlelamy @rafeeekam @xcinnamonmalfoyx

[adinfernumadinfinitum]

Welcome to my silly little fan theory @emmg:

How Raphael is the ‘Mastermind’ behind the plot of Baldur’s Gate 3…

…or how I give him more importance than I should.

DISCLAIMER:

In this ‘dissertation,’ I present my take on things based on Dungeons and Dragons 5e lore from the Forgotten Realms universe, along with fandom theories and headcanons where they suit me. This is NOT an in-depth analysis of anything, so I won’t be reciting specific quotes, etc.

I repeat, this is just MY take on things. If a similar theory already exists, feel free to reach out, and I’ll gladly tag the material!

Oh, and there are a lot of spoilers about, well, everything, so read at your own risk ⚠️

I thank the lovely @bitethedevil for allowing me to tag their posts, making it easier on me so I don’t have to write everything out! I also want to take this moment to appreciate their work and contributions to this fandom! ☺️

Introduction

Baldur’s Gate 3 is a brilliant, complex, multi-layered game filled with multiple villains, heroic figures, and a plot that weaves players in seamlessly. That’s why we love this game—at least, that’s why I do—the gripping storyline and its faceted characters.

The game is set in the Forgotten Realms with DnD lore and rules, while still adding and maintaining its own unique features and twists.

But what if we entirely take a look at it from DnD lore perspective?

Section 1: Raphael as the core character in Baldur’s Gate 3

Fans of the Emperor might argue with me here, but oh man, have you seen how many pies Raphael has his fingers in?

This narcissistic little shit of a cambion plotted his grand design to take the Crown of Karsus for over 2,000 years, planning everything with terrifying precision and putting in a staggering amount of effort—all to manipulate Tav or Durge into giving him the crown.

To understand just how far back his scheming goes, we have to start with the fall of Netheril. As Raphael himself tells us, this is where it all began, and when his father seized the crown, it became impossible for Raphael to obtain it himself.

Baator—the Nine Layers of Hell—has its own system and rules. The plane is aligned as lawful evil, and by its laws, anyone who breaks them is punished; in other words, theft is a crime (don’t try this at home edition).

Am I going to explain the system and rules of the Nine Hells? Hell no, or I’ll be sitting here until next Halloween. Sorry, maybe in a separate post sometime (or not) 😭

So Raphael had to get creative if he wanted to get his greedy claws on the crown.

You can read about how much Raphael’s involvement is actually found in the game Baldur’s Gate 3 here.

What’s relevant for this ‘dissertation’ are the following points, which all show how he orchestrates the plot:

1. Raphael, Vlaakith, and the Astral Prism —

Raphael even plots to capture Orpheus. Not personally, of course, but with the knowledge that it could benefit him and would even serve its purpose in the future. This is a crucial detail.

However, I don’t believe Raphael would craft or have someone craft an item like the Astral Prism, as well as the bindings of Orpheus (the mask, chains, and binding crystals) and the Orphic Hammer. It’s more likely these objects already existed in the Hells, with Raphael profiting by dealing with them.

Sadly there is no official information on that, I really find that interesting.

As for why the Orphic Hammer is called Orphic Hammer - why is Orpheus called Orpheus? He’s a liberator for his people, having inherited the power of Mother Gith, who freed the Gith from mind flayer enslavement. The character of Orpheus draws heavily from Orpheus in Greek mythology, a symbol of liberation, love, and the attempt to rescue a soul from the bonds of death. The term “Orphic” reflects this sense of breaking free from constraints or seeking transformation (of course, it has other meanings, too, but this one feels like what the developers were aiming for).

So the hammer’s name has both symbolic depth and a bit of pun, as it’s intended to free the character Orpheus from his chains.

ANYWAY

2. Raphael, Moonrise Towers, and the Gauntlet of Shar —

The amount of interwoven contracts Raphael has made in the Shadow Cursed Lands is suspicious, and each and every one of them is too , an important point.

Isn’t it just a bit too convenient that Ketheric’s misery plays right into Raphael’s hands? The Shadow-Cursed Lands—Reithwin, once ruled by Ketheric, formerly full of Selunite worshippers but ruined by schemes of the Dark Lady who turned a grieving worshipper of her sister into a Shar follower and leader of an army of Dark Justiciars—is a whole breeding ground for contracts and a stage for Raphael’s play.

Hold on, I’m not implying that I believe Raphael had a hand in Shar’s mischief here, but I do think Raphael handpicked Ketheric, a grieving and obsessed madman (a truly tragic character, honestly), to be an unwitting pawn in his schemes, without directly involving himself. To do this, he contracted with desperate beings like the Architect, Yurgir, and the last Dark Justiciar.

To understand why Raphael would even need Ketheric, we have to look a step further.

3. Raphael and my beloved raccoon boy, Gortash —

Raphael buying Gortash from his parents was a calculated move and the final piece in the Netherbrain plot scheme.

I believe Raphael specifically chose Enver Gortash, a boy with potential, for his plans to get the Crown of Karsus.

Look, Gortash is anything but dumb; in fact, he’s the exact opposite. He learned the ropes in Hell, literally imprisoned in Raphael’s House of Hope. All jokes aside about pot-scrubbing duty and overhearing Raphael and Haarlep getting it on, Gortash is a quick learner.

Raphael just had to watch as Gortash escaped the House of Hope with vital information about the crown. With this, Raphael set up an ambitious, cunning man with the drive to steal the crown.

And this is where Ketheric returns to the picture. Ketheric, the chosen of Myrkul; Gortash, the chosen of Bane; and Durge, the chosen of Bhaal.

As for how Raphael might have gotten his hands on Durge? I’ll leave that as the theory’s plot hole.

I could fill it with headcanons—like Gortash and Durge knowing each other even before Gortash was sold—but that feels a bit far-fetched.

Actually, all of this is a bit far-fetched, but hey, it’s my silly little theory.

But hey again, we’re slowly coming to a conclusion how Raphael is the mastermind behind BG3, do you see my vision?

All Raphael needed was patience. The chosen ones, Gortash and Durge, set the stage by planning the Netherbrain coup and, in stealing the crown, executed Raphael’s plan. All they needed was the third chosen, Ketheric, to carry out the rest of the plot: building the Absolute’s army, etc., the rest we know...

So, what was left? Just someone desperate enough to make a deal with Raphael and actually hand over the Crown of Karsus. And how would he pull that off?

✨The Tadpole Gang✨

Every single one of them fits the bill. Especially if the player chooses Durge.

The next question is: how could he manipulate the group if they were under the Absolute’s influence? Well, that’s where the Emperor comes onto the stage.

Because, hear me out one more time: isn’t it convenient that the Emperor, of all people, finds the Astral Prism? A figure obsessed with freedom and manipulation, ambitious and clever, who would serve perfectly as a kind of protection shield from the Elder Brain’s influence for the gang? And to that even a disposable figure as it is a mind flayer who would not be trusted in the end.

(Naturally, in the game the player is the ultimate executional force, making any kind of higher plan or scheme either perfect or useless)

Nevertheless, this is as far as I will dive into this specific pond.

I just think it adds up nicely.

But Björni, if you have a Section 1, what about a Section 2? you might ask. Well, here it comes…

… how this ‘dissertation’ is actually about Mephistopheles being the ‘Mastermind’ behind the plot of Baldur’s Gate 3.

Section 2: Raphael as the Scapegoat

DnD’s lore about fiends—and, specifically, cambions—teaches us that they’re doomed to fail from birth. While they may think they’re in control of their schemes, they’re actually playing into the hands of their fiendish parent.

Ever wondered why Mephistopheles would even bother devouring Raphael if we defeat him? Sure, cambion sons are nourishing (yum yum), but given Mephistopheles’ personality, I’d guess he does it to humiliate his son, even in death, for being a failure—a failure to retrieve the crown for his father.

But wait, Mephistopheles already had the crown—why would he bother plotting all of this just to get it back? Isn’t that a bit over-the-top, Björni?

Bear with me: it’s not officially written anywhere, but it’s more or less canon based on what we know of the Archdevils Asmodeus and Mephistopheles.

Asmodeus rules the Hells, while Mephistopheles, as the Archduke of the 8th layer, Cania, is arguably the second most powerful being in Baator. Mephistopheles has never stopped dreaming of overthrowing Asmodeus, even after repeatedly failing miserably. But if he openly tried to use the crown against Asmodeus, it would be a direct affront, and Asmodeus would have shut it down from the start.

Mephistopheles has other children besides Raphael, and Raphael isn’t exactly useless, he’s actually the complete opposite. Strategically, it wouldn’t make sense to discard such a puppet (call him son)—unless Raphael had done something atrocious. And for someone as mighty as Mephistopheles, controlling his little cambion son would be child’s play. So, then why does Raphael hate his father so much, and why is Raphael ‘residing’ in Avernus?

As we know, Avernus is the armpit of Baator, a plane for exiles and outcasts.

I think Mephistopheles intentionally filled his relationship with Raphael with hatred, so Raphael’s ambition to overthrow his father would ignite and one day serve him. When Mephistopheles got the Crown of Karsus, unable to wield it himself, he set the stage for his son’s scheme—by casting Raphael aside, Mephistopheles set him on the path to steal the crown, with Mephistopheles only indirectly involved in overthrowing Asmodeus. Raphael would do the dirty work—taking over the other layers—before ultimately facing his father, who could then just snatch the crown from him. And yes, I do believe Mephistopheles is arrogant enough to think he’d still be more powerful than his son, even with a god-like artifact. He has that bloated of an ego.

BUT (Nr. 36,252), what about Asmodeus? Wouldn’t he step in and crush the plan?

Here’s the thing: Asmodeus generally doesn’t mind if his archdukes fight for control of their layers, as long as it doesn’t threaten his supreme authority or destabilize Hell’s hierarchy. In fact, he encourages a bit of rivalry and ambition among his archdevils, as infighting serves his purposes.

And can you imagine THE Asmodeus being worried about an over-ambitious cambion?

However, this leads to the TRUE instigator and the true subject of this ‘dissertation’…

… how Asmodeus is actually the ‘Mastermind’ behind the plot of Baldur’s Gate 3.

Section 3: Asmodeus doing things, just because

Joke’s on you—it’s been about Asmodeus all along, because even if he’d lose (not that he ever would—he’s just that powerful), he’d claim at the last minute that it was his plan all along. Losing trusted allies? What a bunch of traitors—perfect excuse to clean house. Losing Baator? Finally, he was sick of the job.

All jokes aside, Asmodeus being the cunning bastard he is, would likely pull off everything mentioned above.

To understand why he’d even bother, let’s take a quick (really quick, this is already getting too long) dive into his background and shenanigans in DnD.

Throughout DnD’s development from 1e to 5e, Asmodeus has gone through quite the evolution, eventually becoming a Greater Deity, the Embodiment of Evil, and one of the mightiest beings in existence, rivaled only by Ao.

While 5e keeps things vague to allow player interpretation, Asmodeus has consistently been the most powerful entity in the Hells—a schemer, strategist, and supreme manipulator.

(Here’s the only quote I’ll reference:) “[…] His sinister machinations could take centuries, if not millennia, to come to fruition, and his master plans extended across the entire multiverse. His labyrinthine, insidious intrigues could seem inexplicable to most outside observers, for Asmodeus let even his own servants stew in fear of his next move. With all the planes as his board, the Lord of Lies maneuvered the forces of evil like chess pieces in his grand designs, slowly and subtly manipulating everyone from deities to, when needed, lowly mortals.”

He’s described as being a thousand steps ahead of everyone. And while most of his plans serve greater purposes beyond even godly comprehension, some things he does just because—just for fun.

CONCLUSION

Of course Asmodeus knew Mephistopheles had the crown. Of course he knew Mephistopheles would never use it openly against him. And of course he knew Mephistopheles would keep scheming to use it indirectly, bringing his cambion son Raphael into the game.

Why would Asmodeus let all this happen, and why am I saying he’s the real mastermind?

Like already mentioned, Asmodeus often (indirectly) encourages and manipulates his archdukes to scheme and fight among themselves as a means to reinforce his dominance, foster survival of the fittest, and test loyalty within the infernal hierarchy. However, he maintains strict boundaries, and any conflict that risks his supreme authority, disrupts Hell’s role in the multiverse, or leads to excessive chaos would be swiftly and ruthlessly quashed. In Asmodeus’s mind, such rivalries are a useful tool—as long as they remain safely under his control.

In my view, the Crown of Karsus was never a real threat to him; this whole plot served his entertainment, tested loyalties, or helped him gauge his chess pieces.

And that’s how Asmodeus is the real mastermind behind the plot of Baldur’s Gate 3.

Thanks for reading this mass of nonsense ❤️

Why I even bothered with all this shit? It’s one of the key plot points in my longfic, Ah, You Devil!

[qveenbunni]

OHHHHHHH NO YOU DIDNT! What a wonderful surprise! I wanted to read this yesterday, but I fell asleep 🫣 I love that we got another member’s part instead of Yunho’s- mixing things up I see! And like always, my review is A MESS (more so than usual). I’m reading this at night while fighting sleep which equals disaster when trying to find connections in everything… I just talked myself into a circle or confusion. I was going to scrap it, but I like how dumb I look going back and forth between each theory. Like make up you’re mind 🤦🏽‍♀️

I kept everything in order, so I hope it makes sense. I did go back to add notes and reread so hopefully it makes sense 🤷🏽‍♀️ but idk it’s time for bed 🛌

°

(wrote this after reading the synopsis) Before I start… I totally thought Gyuri and Wooyoung would get back together, so to this Scarlet Witch NEEDS TO GO. She’s already ruining the love story I have planned for those two 😂

She's wearing matching costumes with him… he wants to wipe the pale complexion Gyuri painted on him off THATS CRAZY. They went as a set to this party?! Oh they’re so down bad for each other it’s crazy. And she painted his face?! There must’ve been so much tension during that. I need to jump into the -verse to make these two sit down and talk it out. *five seconds later* the love of his life Yeah I’m on my way now 🏃🏽‍♀️‍➡️

Well, there's a boy I liked that came here tonight I BET IT WAS SUPERMAN…. Okay so now my theory is that these two will reunite and work together to get with their crushes *boom* I’m a genius 🤓

*five seconds later* WAIT I WAS WRONG. She mentioned the bride which means that Superman isn’t her crush- THIS IS Y/N FROM SAN’S STORY. It has to be! Because at this point they hadn’t met yet (Woo and San’s y/n). OK NOW I’m a genius and she can most definitely stay 😅 I jumped the gun there a bit

He wishes his other best friend came along as well, but she's really not that fond of parties in general. Oh I’m so right with my prediction- I can feel it 😏

(there's security at a house party, what the hell) No cause that’s crazy- are they at Yunho’s house or something?!

Y/N. It fits her. DANG IT I WAS WRONG (after completing edit: I literally have no idea why I put this here… but it’s staying 😂)

IM SO OFF MY GAME WTH 🤦‍♀️ You don't remember her name but you do remember her kissing the guy you've liked since forever. See and this always happens. I need to trust my first answer smh (after completing edit: wait does San’s y/n know Gyuri?! I can’t remember 🫢 I remember them being friends but now I’m not too sure)

“We went to highschool together. He was the only person who I thought saw me for who I was.” BRO AM I TRIPPIN- this could still be San’s y/n right? I’m so off of my game it’s crazy. It’s been so long since I read his, I forgot all the little details 😞 I can’t remember how close Woo was to San and y/n in San’s story… I feel like I’m mixing universes at this point

WAIT it can’t be San’s y/n because she needs to be mad at Kyungmi not Gyuri. And since Gyuri is dressed as the Corpse Bride and Wonder Woman- this is a new person?… right? 😵‍💫

THIS IS A MESS! Both my mind and their relationship smh. They’re making things worse for themselves in the long run, unless they end up falling for each other…. 😟 Which can’t happen- I’ll stay in the -verse to make sure that Woo and Gyuri get together.

party eastern time hehe that’s funny 😆 I’m gonna use that now

THIS WAS SO STEAMY AND HAWT!! I want Woo to get with Gyuri, but I won’t be mad if he has more hookups with y/n 😉😉😉

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️💯 (I did not reread my review so I hope it makes some type of sense 🫠)

woo's prelude: a clown's remedy to heal a broken heart (JWY x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

A drunk and kind of akward conversation inside of a closet is the start of Wooyoung's journey into healing his broken heart. Only he doesn't really know the name of the Scarlet Witch that helped mend a heart that wasn't supposed to break anymore, even if she starts plaguing his thoughts and dreams after that.

PAIRING: wooyoung x fem!reader.

GENRE: halloween hookup to [redacted] (we'll get to that when we need to).

WORD COUNT: 11.9k

WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, drinking and drunk behavior, mature language, insults, woo getting his heart broken by his ex girfriend even though they're friends and they haven't been romantically involved in YEARS my god he's a dummy, reader getting her heart broken too, some self worth issues, frat bros being stupid and getting drinks throw at them for stepping over the line, howl!wooyoung (not for people with weak hearts and strong imaginations), making out, biting, description of female anatomy, sweet dirty talk and praising , fingering, semi-public (they're at a party, does that count?) and protected sex (wrap it up please), switching them positions for him, masturbation, hook up talk and the start of something new that we won't see for now but soon!

NOTES: hi everyone! decided to do a halloween drop on halloween day because spooky season is not over until i get this story out of my system it seems! this story is PART OF THE LOVE'S AN UNCHARTED PATH / SHOW & TELL UNIVERSE but can be read as a stand alone finally yay! THIS A PRELUDE TO WOO'S STORY, a little taste of what's to come for him and his boo (see what i did there?). this took place BEFORE we can't be friends (san's story) and will be placed accordingly on the masterlist to clear any future confusion. there's mentions of the characters that show up in wcbf so if u want to better understand the dynamics, you can read that but it's def not needed!

this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: october 31st 2024 at midnight!

masterlist

There's a particular way one too many tequilas can make a room spin that Wooyoung absolutely adores. 

When it happens, he lets himself catch the world swirling around him before closing his eyes and praying for a little bit of lucidity to come to him so he can get his drunk ass home safely. 

As he opens his eyes, his face scrunches at what he sees: San, dressed as Gomez Addams, waving a hand in front of him. It takes him a little to remember where he is. 

It's a bit extra confusing with all the costumes and strangers and the music blasting through the speakers but when it finally clicks, he's grateful that he's not completely gone yet. 

“Are you good?” He can faintly hear San ask over the music, San’s girlfriend by his side dressed as Morticia, eyeing him with a quirked brow. 

Why is San with her? He will never, ever get it. 

Kyungmi is not really right for him. It's been a few months already since they made it official and Wooyoung can just tell. He always tells. He's not as oblivious as everyone paints him to be. 

There's one girl who's right for San but, in all honesty, Wooyoung is too tired to fight him on it. 

San always shoots back with a comment about him and Gyuri, his ex girlfriend (now best friend) and it always brings his mood down for some stupid reason. 

He's oblivious to why that happens. By choice, of course, but oblivious nonetheless. 

He prefers it that way. 

Wooyoung would nod, but he knows it's dangerous to do so “Just peachy.” 

“Why don't you—” San starts but he interrupts. 

“Some air and water,” he smiles, taking the water bottle from his friend’s hand “Waaaay ahead of you, babe.” 

Kyungmi rolls her eyes “Quit calling my boyfriend babe, dude.” 

San laughs, Kyungmi does not. 

“Don’t be jealous because he loves me more than you,” sticking his tongue out, he stumbles his way around them both “I'll be back.” 

He focuses on putting one foot in front of the other until he reaches a very big window. It's larger than usual. 

Oh. 

It has a door. A door that slides! 

It's a balcony. Amazing, just what he needs: To be a safety hazard and a possible traumatic experience for everyone at the party. 

He should probably turn back around before he's accidentally leaping over the edge but then he sees it. 

He sees her.

Corpse bride. Her blue makeup being wiped off by somebody's tongue in a secluded corner of the backyard of this stupid frat house the friend group ended up for the night. 

Gyuri is kissing someone. 

His chest tightens, his mouth drops slightly and his heart thumps hard enough for him to feel it on his throat. 

Why is she doing that? 

She's wearing matching costumes with him. She carefully picked them out, she ordered everything a month and a half ago and now she's kissing some… Some… Attempt at a Superman costume. 

Which is pretty fucking hilarious because how do you fuck up a Superman costume? 

But Wooyoung is not laughing. He's hurting, he's fucking pissed and, at the same time, he can't pull his eyes away from her. From them. 

Is feeling this pathetic something that would fit Víctor?

Vector? 

Whatever his name is? 

He's never seen the Corpse Bride, so he doesn't remember the name of the dude he's dressed up as. He just knows he wants to wipe the pale complexion Gyuri painted on him off. 

Off. Off. Off. Out. He needs to leave. 

But he ends up going back inside and downing another shot before he can really think about it, giggling to San and pretending nothing happened because who the fuck is he to Gyuri to get upset over it? 

Her ex, sure. But that happened a long time ago, so it doesn't count anymore. 

So it doesn't really matter. Nothing really matters when he finds Yeosang (dressed as the Phantom of the Opera) and drags him to the dance floor for what it feels like forever.

And then, one thing leads to the other and he's sitting on the floor, in a circle of people he doesn't even know, playing spin the bottle. 

Or is it seven minutes in heaven? A vampire and a fairy kissed in front of him half a second ago, but Zuko and the creepy doll from that one netflix show got up and into a closet like… six minutes ago. 

He didn't really pay attention to the rules. 

Oh, well, he's about to find out anyway! 

Fingers grasping the soju bottle in the middle of the circle, he carefully inspects the faces of everyone sitting there, expectantly looking at him. 

His vision is a little blurry but he wants to pick whoever strokes his fancy the most to try and get rid of the funny feeling he gets when he sees Gyuri walk right in front of him and head for the drink table. 

He decides quickly that, as long as it makes him forget the image of that dude's tongue down the mouth of the love of his life, he's good. 

So he spins the bottle. It spins and it spins and it spins and everyone leans forward in anticipation until it stops in front of someone. 

There's someone on his left that audibly gasps and Wooyoung looks at them before his eyes focus on the person he has to… Kiss? Get in a closet with? 

What does he need to do? 

“You can skip her if you like,” some dude with red paint dripping down his forehead and cargo shorts tells him. He's not even sitting down in the circle but lying on the couch closest to it “She's in a bad mood.” 

That’s when the Scarlet Witch that the bottle landed on rolls her eyes and gets up. 

Wooyoung thinks he's about to lose his turn and wait for the next round or until the bottle lands on him when she offers him her gloved up hand. 

He gets up. He's a little bit more sober now, alert as he plants his feet on the carpet again just to not make a fool of himself, throwing a glance at Gyuri just to find out she's not actually looking at him at all.

The pang on his chest comes back. 

“Don't throw a drink on him just for trying to kiss you too, sweetheart, that's what the game is all about,” the same dude from before tells her as they both pass by the couch and head for the space Zuko and the doll who, he assumes, just got done with their seven minutes was occupying “Don’t say I didn't warn ya, Wooyoung!” 

Who is this obnoxious motherfucker and why does he know his name? 

It takes two and a half hazy steps until the darkness of the small space engulfs him and Scarlet Witch. 

It's one of those long closets with narrow walls that leave absolutely no space to move around when you actually need to put something away, but it's a perfect nook to make out. 

He would know, he's been in this situation many times. 

He lets go of the stranger's hand, only because she turns away from him and then she huffs once the door closes. Wooyoung hears a thump against the wood of it, so he assumes she hit it with her fist or her boot. 

“Fucking asshole.” She mutters under her breath but he hears it. 

It dawns on him that the reason he sat down to potentially kiss strangers that night was to be seen. 

Wooyoung wanted people to see him so they knew he was completely fine and, as soon as Gyuri walked into the room, his motivation was for her to see him doing completely fine. 

Cool. He's cool. He's one of the actual cool guys at the university, he's been told so before. 

He also wanted her to feel a little bit jealous but now, eyes closed for a few seconds to try and regain composure after whatever just happened, he realizes that she probably wouldn't even care.

So this whole thing is useless anyway. Only now he gets to meet (kiss?) someone dressed as one of his favorite characters of the decade. 

There, as his eyes adjust to the minimum light that's filtering under the door, he realizes his mistake: he said nothing to defend her. 

In his defense, his drunk brain processes the information a little too late. And, in her defense, Scarlet Witch seemed like she didn't really care what the asshole said in the first place. 

Now he notices that's not true. 

It's hard to make out her figure but he hears another soft thump and when he turns his head to the right angle, he's able to make out that she just leaned against the door. 

He opens his mouth to apologize, he thinks, but she beats him to it. 

“We don't have to kiss or… fuck or whatever people do with their seven minutes.”

“Wow,” he laughs, his back finding a wall and almost knocking something placed on a tiny shelf next to his arm “I promise I wasn't expecting you to—” 

“Yeah, yeah, save it,” she lets out a breath. “If you want to tell them that we kissed, that's fine by me. I know how your frat bros behave when you don't do what you're supposed to.”

“They're not my frat bros. In fact, they are not even my bros,” he frowns, and slides against the wall because his legs are threatening to give in. He's suddenly very, very exhausted “I don't know them.” 

“Isn’t your name Wooyoung?” 

“Y-yes?” 

“Then you know them,” she shoots back, matter-of-factly “And I'm not interested in kissing any of your kind tonight.” 

“My kind?” 

“Men,” she clarifies and Wooyoung can feel her smile in her next words “Although frat bros are a different kind of species altogether.” 

“I'm not a frat bro!” 

It takes a second and his honest frustration but she laughs “Sure.” 

In the dark, with his ego bruised and his heart crushed, Wooyoung thinks it's a pretty laugh. 

He thinks it's even prettier when he hears a little ruffling and then her body heat invades his space, kind of. She just sat beside him, thigh against his and perfume reaching his nostrils. It's a mix of something sweet and something citrusy. 

It's really nice.

He gulps before asking “W-what was that about?” and then points to the door like she can see him. 

“He's in one of my classes. He thought he could kiss me and when I said no, because fucking look at the state of him, he tried to kiss me anyway,” she says all chirpy but Wooyoung picks up on the sarcastic tone and let's out a soft ew at the story “I preventively threw my drink on him because I got a little freaked out and now I'm sober and pissed off. I think he's a little upset about me thinking he was about to take advantage of me.” 

He grimaces “You can't never be too sure, though.” 

She hums and then sighs a: “I know.” 

“I don't even know his name but he does sound like a fucking asshole.” 

“Why does he know you?” 

Wooyoung shrugs and he's a little glad it's dark. He's not exactly smiling, his playful nature not coming out at the moment. “I'm a pretty popular guy.” 

“I don't know you.” 

“Well, I don't know you either, so we're even,” he shrugs again and it's kind of hypocritical because, to be fair, he didn't get a good look at her face at all “I just know you s-smell nice.” He murmurs, tripping on his words like a babbling drunk idiot. 

Maybe because that's what he is right now.

“Thanks… I guess.” She sounds weirded out by that but he's not sober enough to care. 

“You're so welcome.” 

There's silence in which Wooyoung does nothing but try to find her in the dark. He eventually does, given the fact that the light from under the door casts a little on her face now that she's sitting down.

He doesn't recognize her, which is odd. Wooyoung knows almost everyone. At least her voice would ring a bell but there's absolutely no frivolous memories with this girl and he kind of likes it that way. 

If she doesn't know him, she doesn't know about Gyuri. That's a plus because there's no reason for her to be walking on eggshells around him like every other student at the university who finds him attractive. 

There's another beat of silence between them both, music blasting outside and making the floor slightly thrum underneath him. 

He's not usually this quiet. When he doesn't feel like crying, he's usually very annoyingly outspoken. Mind glowing in red alert, he practically stumbles his words out to fix that. 

“I like your costume.” 

“You do? People didn't get it.” 

“That's because they care more about Captain America than Wanda Maximoff,” he scoffs. “It’s the Multiverse of Madness one, hm?” 

“Wandavision post-credit scene,” she whispers back and Wooyoung nods, encouraging her to go on even if she can't see him. He thinks she's about to maybe rant about the show or the character or the party or anything that can help him forget, but she does the opposite “I, uhm… Also like your costume.” 

There's a tint of shyness in her voice, like she's not used to being nice. 

“Victor, right?”

“I've never seen the movie.” He makes sure to clarify before she asks him about it. 

“You don't really have to see the movie to know the character, Wooyoung,” he feels when her head hits the wall slightly, on purpose maybe “I don't like him anyway.” 

“Then why did you say you liked my costume?” 

“I lied. It's called trying to keep the conversation going,” her explanation makes no sense to him in that state of inebriation, but he lets it go “I don't exactly know what to talk about when I drag someone into a closet.” 

Wooyoung pauses and then laughs to himself “We were not exactly supposed to talk in the first place. Have you never done this before?” 

“No. I don't usually go to frat parties,” she says after a second where Wooyoung was met with silence, a moment where he wondered if his question was out of line “Coming here tonight was a mistake.” 

He finds himself asking without thinking, again “Then why did you?”  

“I'm so bored.” 

That takes him by surprise. 

“Bored?” 

“Yes, I'm bored. My dorm room mattress has a hole in it because I never go out and… Well, there's a boy I liked that came here tonight, so, I came as well.” 

Liked? 

Wooyoung doesn't really ask her about it. 

Eyebrows practically touching his scalp, Wooyoung thinks for a split second she's talking about him but that's not really possible because they've never met until now, she said it herself. 

“Well did you find him?” 

She takes in a shaky breath and then lets it out. Sadness suddenly fills the constricted space and Wooyoung isn't sure if it's just him or if Scarlet Witch is going through a heartbreak as well. 

“Yeah, I did” she whispers back and doesn't elaborate, so he doesn't ask “There's a bride going around the party. I saw her, she looks really cool, maybe you could—” 

“She's my best friend,” he interrupts because the mention of Gyuri, so directly at that, has his heart racing with anxiety. So long for her not knowing about his ex girlfriend “We, uh… We dated in highschool and we stayed friends, so it's not really happening again.” 

“Oh… Do you want it to happen again?” 

“W-what?” 

“I mean,” she laughs a little awkwardly, like she's nervous “You sounded very sad when you said it, a little angry too.” 

“Did I?” 

He definitely didn't mean to sound like that at all. 

Scarlet Witch hums in agreement and he really thinks about what to answer. The short answer is a simple yes but, if he's being honest, he already knows that they're not good for each other. Not like that, anyway. 

“I don't really know what to tell you.” 

“You don't have to tell me anything,” she says right away and it calms his nerves a bit. “Just know that there's no real helping when you like someone, it doesn't matter if you thought you didn't like them anymore. It just happens. It sucks but it just happens.” 

The unsolicited advice doesn't really help him, if he's being honest. It stirs something inside him that he wants to keep hidden, concealed, so he turns the topic of conversation away from him. 

Away from Gyuri. 

“Speaking from experience?” He asks, half jokingly.

“Yeah, so I can confidently say that it fucking sucks.” 

She turns to him with a smile (he's hyper focused on her, there's no way he could've missed that) before laughing and a tiny force lifts up the corners of his lips. That's one pretty laugh.

Maybe, in an universe where was a little bit more sober, he could've actually spent these seven minutes kissing her. 

Kissing her. 

He wants to kiss her. That's going to take his mind off Gyuri, sure. 

His heart beats quicker this time, for a completely different reason. 

He leans in. 

He's going to kiss her. 

She clears her throat “Are you going to the party next saturday?” 

Huh? 

Oh. 

“Yes, I think so,” he's a little breathless and probably blushing because of what he was about to do “Why?” 

After the night he had, he thought he was going to struggle to even bring out this sort of excitement out of himself. When Scarlet Witch raises her gloved hand and brings it to the nape of his neck, he wonders if she actually has magical powers. 

It effectively distracts him, it sobers him up and makes him feel drunker at the same time. Short nails caress the skin where her fingers lay and then she grasps the strands of hair sticking out, not gelled down for the sake of his costume. 

“Is this real?” 

What does she mean? This feeling taking over his body? The heat that spreads all around? He's not sure if it is, if that's what she's asking. 

Hia mouth feels like cotton when he asks “Is what real?” 

She laughs softly again “The hair, the length.” 

Oh. 

“Yes, it is.” 

Maybe he should've taken his time in answering because, as soon as he does, her touch leaves him. 

“You should go as Howl,” she murmurs and he melts a little “It'll suit you better than a Tim Burton character, I think.” 

He laughs, it's short lived and through the cloud he feels he's on right now “You think?” 

“Yeah,” he can't see her, but he knows she's nodding “Even if you claim that you're not a frat bro. You know, the whole seducing ladies and stuff.” 

Wooyoung laughs “Howl did not seduce any ladies, it was all a rumor!” 

“He did, in the book.” 

“Oh, I don't read.” 

“See?” she clicks her tongue and then her shoulder touches his, teasingly “Total frat bro.” 

Wooyoung thinks about it again. 

Kissing her. Now out of pure want instead of selfish motivations. 

She said she didn't want to, earlier, if he recalls correctly and that's okay. 

He still wants to though, so… 

The question is on the tip of his tongue, he even thinks he makes out the start of it before it's cut off by the sound of the door opening. 

Closing his eyes at the sudden intrusion of light, it takes a few seconds for them to adjust to it and, when they do, he finally sees her face. 

He should've kissed her. 

The costume she's wearing it's cool, sure, and she's even wearing a wig that looks very expensive so he confirms the fact that she likes to dress up sometimes but that's not really what amazes him. 

Maybe it's because he sort of already formed a judgment of her character but she's beautiful and he really, really, really, should've kissed her. 

“Time's up, you're hogging the closet. Oh, and someone is looking for you,” the girl dressed up as Zuko points in his direction and then, because neither of them makes an effort to stand up, she nods and steps aside “I'll give y'all a minute.” 

Scarlet Witch laughs and Wooyoung wishes he could share the sentiment. At this point, he thought he would be done with a makeout session and in desperate need for another drink to keep the night going. 

Now, he wants nothing but take her hand in his and find a quiet spot where he can keep getting to know her. Maybe get her number. 

And he swears he's going to ask, but the universe is not in his favor. When she turns to him, he loses all ability to speak and when she leans in to peck his cheek his breath hitches and he feels like a teenager getting a crush for the first time. 

“In case you need to tell anyone I kissed you,” she whispers in secrecy, leaning back a bit “So you don't have to lie. I hate liars.” 

He gulps “Noted.” 

She doesn't even give him the opportunity to escort her out of tiny space: she gets up, bolts for the door and when Wooyoung's brain catches on to the gigantic problem of his own creation, as he gets out of the closet and looks around for her, she's already out of his sight. 

“Are you good?” 

It's the second time tonight San has asked that. It's not annoying by any means but when it comes with the concerned faces of Yeosang, Kyungmi and Gyuri he has to think his response through.

But the Scarlet Witch's words echo in his mind. 

I don't like liars. 

“No, I'm not,” he says, a little out of breath “I didn't get her name.” 

This time, the entire crew joins him, Gyuri, Kyungmi and Yeosang to go to the party. 

He wishes his other best friend came along as well, but she's really not that fond of parties in general. 

Which sucks because she would look good in a costume and maybe that would prompt San to act on his feelings and break up with Kyungmi in the process. 

She was a pain in his ass tonight. Didn't really help his nerves at all. 

Yes, he's nervous about possibly seeing Scarlet Witch again. 

Yes, he thought about her all week and tried his best to find her on social media but couldn't. 

Yes, he's aware tonight's theme for the party is a mix of a masquerade and a normal costume party or whatever the sorority organizing it said in their invite. 

And yes, he's dressed up as Howl Pendragon, wearing a black and white mask that he borrowed from one of the girls in the group. They decorated it with little gold and pink stars and it looks cute on him but that's not the point! 

Masks complicate his quest for the night. 

He hopes that she's here tonight. He also hopes that the costume alone is enough for her to recognize him: There's a lot of people here tonight. 

Even waiting in line to pay the cover fee for the party felt stuffy. 

He turns to Gyuri and she's laughing at something her date for the night is telling her. That's right, for the first time in many, many years, Wooyoung is not her date. 

Superman is. He's dressed in the same costume he saw him in last weekend, he thinks he even sees as smudge of Gyuri’s corpse bride body paint on it. 

She's Wonder Woman for the night. So original. 

Wooyoung feels bad as soon as the bitter thoughts go through his head. He didn't even know they exchanged numbers, let alone kept chatting to coordinate their costumes for tonight's party. 

He found out when she told her that the Raven and Beast Boy costumes would have to wait until next year. 

And he, actually, was relieved that he didn't have to paint his face green for God knows how many hours just to keep losing his date in the crowd and finding her kissing someone else. 

Ugh. 

Bitter. He's as bitter and jealous as someone who has to see the love of his life not give a damn about them or their feelings can be.

But that's okay, he has other plans for the night anyway. 

As soon as they all get through security (there's security at a house party, what the hell), they all scatter to do what they do best at parties. 

Hongjoong and Seonghwa head for the drink table, Yeosang and Jongho head for a corner of the main room, San, Kyungmi, Gyuri and Superman go straight to the backyard and Mingi, his girlfriend and Yunho walk with him to the dancefloor. 

He dances with his friends, he pretends he's paying attention to their banter as his eyes scan the crowd looking for someone familiar behind a mask. 

He thinks he remembers her face very well, it stayed on his mind for a whole week but, even after dreaming about their conversation, Wooyoung is having a hard time in finding her. 

She didn't even tell him what she was going to dress up as or if she was even going to show up. 

Or did she? 

His memories are all blended together. He's going to make sure to be sober tonight, just for the sake of remembering every little detail if he does end up finding her. 

But the hours go by and he still can't find her. 

He's losing hope, he's beginning to believe she didn't even show up to the event which, hey, sucks but that means that he can finally get her out of her head. 

Sort of. 

There's a Scarlet Witch staring at him. But there's this alluring nature to his Scarlet Witch that can't be replicated, or so he thinks. 

He's about to convince himself he drunk dreamed the entire thing but then he sees him. 

The obnoxious motherfucker. Her classmate, mister can't-take-no-for-an-answer. 

In all honesty, the first thought that crosses his mind is to punch him in the face. He's still dressed up all frat bro-ish and his mask is a paper mask, completely diy-ed and with a dick drawn on the right side. 

And then he abandons the thought because, although an asshole, he can lead go finding his Scarlet Witch. 

Only issue is: Mister asshole is walking away with a girl on his arm and heading straight to a… room? bathroom? 

Stopping his movements, mid a Troye Sivan song and cutting Yunho off in whatever he's telling him, he let's out a loud “Fuck!” 

Yunho stops, Mingi and his girlfriend turn slowly to them with wide eyes and concerned expressions 

“What did you do to him?” Mingi asks Yunho and his best friend laughs nervously. 

“I didn't do anything! Did I do something?” he turns to Wooyoung “I didn't, did I?” 

“No, no. Sorry, I… I gotta go.” 

“Go where, Serena Van der Woodsen?” 

Wooyoung doesn't get the reference Mingi’s girlfriend makes but he laughs like he does “I'll be right back!” 

He's never been so determined before, moving through the crowd like his life depends on it and crashing into Batman and his Joker on the way to stop the guy who's potentially changing the course of his night. 

“Hey!” He yells behind him but the music is somehow louder on this side of the house and five people turn their heads, but not the guy pushing a Silent Hill nurse into the bathroom door to kiss her before opening it. 

Damn it. 

He runs faster and faster and he thinks he's going to miss his chance when the tip of his boot catches the door before it fully closes on his face. 

Breathing hard, his lips turn up in smirk when he catches the way the guy's face scrunches in confusion before opening the door again and looking at him.

Wooyoung takes it a step further and gets into the bathroom with them, closing the door behind him and lifting up his mask.

“What the fuck, Wooyoung?” 

“Hey, so sorry for interrupting your fifth makeout sesh for the night but I need to ask you something. Hi.” He says to the nurse and she smiles a little before turning to the Frat Bro and raising her eyebrow inquisitively. 

“And it couldn't wait?!” 

“No,” he says right away, smiling sardonically and getting straight to the point afterwards. “So, remember the Scarlet Witch that I ended up going to the closet with last week?” 

“Who?” 

Wooyoung is going to kill him.

“The girl who threw a drink on you last week for trying to kiss her even if she said no the first time you tried,” he reminds him, “Is she here?” 

“Y/N?” the name comes out in a whisper and Wooyoung sucks in a sharp breath. 

Y/N. 

It fits her. 

“Your classmate, yes.”

“Uhm, yeah, I think she's here,” he looks a little embarrassed at the recalling of the events of last week and Wooyoung wants to smile because of it, but he just looks at him with an insistent look so he can catch that he needs more than that to find her. To find you “Look, bro, I don't know where she is right now. I think she's dressed as a… Clown? A jester? Some weird, indie costume, uhm… She has a pointy black birthday hat? I don't know.” 

He's slurring his words but that's not enough for Wooyoung to feel bad for him. He, however, does not want to speak with him anymore. 

“Alright, thank you for that, I'll… Leave you to it,” he opens the door again and frat idiot scoffs, so he turns and looks directly at the Silent Hill Nurse “Please make him wear a condom.” And he can tell she's a little turned off with the whole conversation. 

So, as he closes the bathroom door and scans the crowd one more hopeful time, he counts that as a second victory. A little revenge on your name, even. 

He wanders the house, the hallways and rooms and little hideaway spots but he finds no sign of you in them so he heads for the backyard and looks up to the second floor. 

The first room is presumably empty, lights turned off and no activity in it the few seconds he observes it. 

The second room has an ambiance light turned on and he sees what looks like a Mad Hatter run across the window and then he hears something crashing, so he hopes that's not where you are. 

The third room has a balcony. It's dark, there's not one light lit in the entire room but there's neon lights in the backyard and streetlights and the moon casting perfectly on it, so he's able to see it perfectly from where he stands. 

And there, draped in some sort of vintage looking clown costume, wearing striped tights and a black and white pointy hat, mask in your hand and your forearms supporting your weight, you stare past him. 

You look sad, but it could also be the illusion the makeup you put on gives. 

He doesn't know you enough to know what your sad expression looks like and it bothers him a little. 

You also don't notice him at all, which is odd, because you're staring directly over his shoulder. You only blink fast and focus on his face once someone calls out: 

“Woo!” That's Gyuri's voice. Raising your head, you wave to him and smile a little. He smiles back. 

He has to literally force himself to peel his eyes from you and look behind him, at his best friend “Are you okay? Come hang out with us!” 

She looks so happy. A little drunk, but happy. San is also right beside her and he shoots him a knowing smirk that he ignores because he has to leave and speak to you. 

“I'm a little busy, Yuri. I'll be down in just a sec,” that's a lie but she nods happily and so he turns to you, your smile a little bigger now “Don't move.” He warns cheekily in a whisper and you seem to get it, because you smile wide, raise your arms defensively and open your, once again, gloved hands in defeat. 

He practically sprints to the second floor after that. 

You hope Wooyoung didn't notice. 

Staring daggers at the girl he told you last time is his best friend? Yeah, that could turn into a fight really fast if he reproaches it. 

You don't remember her name but you do remember her kissing the guy you've liked since forever. She's been doing that all night tonight, too. 

It pisses you off for all the wrong reasons. Sure, she's not exactly at fault, but the human mind is horrid when it comes to mental self flagellation and you, unfortunately, are an expert at that. 

All kinds of things went through your head. The main one, a question: Why do you feel so possessive over something that clearly isn't yours? 

His heart. 

His heart it's not yours, it never was, it never will be.

It's time you come to the realization that that's okay even if it hurts you. The obsession you have over it, over what happened with the two of you it's starting to get pathetic and it makes you feel lonelier than usual.

You really hope Wooyoung didn't notice. 

As you walk to the door and unlock the room you claimed for the night (because you want to leave, but the cover was expensive and there's no way you're letting it go to waste) you let yourself detach from the emotions you've been feeling all night. 

Wooyoung doesn't need to know what's going on in your head. You have a good memory of him, you even filtered a little last weekend and you want to keep that going. 

He doesn't need to know, he doesn't need to stay in your life for too long either.

It makes you giggle when he opens the door and scans the moonlit room of this sorority house like he doesn't really believe you were there in the first place. He smiles wide when his eyes land on you, back against the wall closest to the door. 

“Hey.” You say, biting down a smile.

His chest is heaving, like he ran all the way up here and it does nothing but send nervous tingles down your spine.

He smiles beautifully, entering the room and closing the door behind him “Hi.” 

Peeling your back from the wall, you start walking around the room because that keeps your body busy and unable to embarrass you. 

“Thought I missed you completely tonight, Y/N.” 

Frowning, you give him a glance over your shoulder “You know my name.” You say, rather than ask. 

“You didn't want me to?” 

Shaking your head, there's a tiny smile that curves your lips when you turn to him. He's walking around as well, slowly, carefully, like you're about to disappear if he moves too fast. 

“I don't really enjoy mysteries that much.” 

He smiles as well “You didn't tell me your name last time.” 

“You didn't ask me,” shrugging, you take a few steps his way and scan his costume without any discretion “You see?” 

“Hm?” 

“How good you look as Howl?” tilting your head slightly, you don't miss the way his cheeks darken slightly and that makes the remains of your shyness disappear from your body. You tell yourself that you, in this room, there must be no space for it. You point at his cape “Was it hard to get this?” 

“Overnight shipping,” he whispers, taking a step in your direction “You look very cute.” 

“You think?” 

“Yeah, I really like the, uhm…” he gestures to your costume “Vintage vibe.” 

You don't have to be a genius to notice he doesn't really know what you are. “I'm a pierrot clown.” 

He scoffs “I knew that.” 

“Sure you did, buddy.” 

There's a pause and then you both laugh but it dies down quickly and there's this tension between you both you don't really know why it's there.

You two didn't exactly connect that much last time. At least, you don't think you did. He was kind of drunk and you weren't really thinking straight either. 

“Y/N…” Your name sounds good out of his lips. 

“Yes?” 

“Why did you disappear last time?” 

That makes you laugh again. You didn't exactly plan on it, you were going to wait for him outside the closet but then you saw them kissing goodbye and your heart couldn't really stand it, so you bolted. 

You walk towards one of the two beds, sitting down on it carefully, to not disturb it too much. He follows you with his eyes, his head turning slightly in order to do so.

“You mean when I left the party? I didn't disappear on you,” that's not really a lie, you convince yourself. You kind of bid your goodbye to him that night “Didn’t think you wanted me to stay, either. Did they give you too much shit?” 

“For what?” 

“I clearly didn't kiss you that night. I think it was obvious, so… Your frat bros didn't give you shit for it?” 

Closing his eyes, the smile he gives you in return for the inside joke you two have going on makes your heart flutter “Stop insisting on that, will you?” 

“You can't really fight the truth, Wooyoung.” 

“Hm,” he walks over to you again, sitting on the bed next with his thigh touching yours. Innecesarlly so, because there's plenty of space, but you enjoy the warmth it spreads around your body so you don't say anything “You did tell me you didn't like liars.” 

“Oh, you remember that?” 

“I remember everything,” he nods, “I wasn't that drunk.” 

You give him a look “Weren't you?” 

He laughs again and you follow, pushing him slightly with your shoulder like you did back in the closet as well.

You don't really know what to say anymore, so you clear your throat slightly. 

“Are you enjoying the party?” 

“Are you?”  

“What do you mean?” 

“You seemed kind of sad when I saw you, there,” he points at the balcony and that makes you sigh. He noticed, kind of. That's disappointing and impressive at the same time. “I thought it was the makeup but it doesn't really seem like it.” 

“I’m not sad,” you admit, “I'm hurt.” 

“Isn't that the same thing?” 

“Not really, no,” shaking your head, you stare out of the big panel windows into the night sky. He doesn't need to know entirely, but you can tell him something about it “Remember the guy I told you about last time?” 

“The guy you went to the party for?” 

You nod “Well, he's here tonight too. With a date this time.” 

“Oh,” when you turn, catch him licking his lips before continuing and your eyes are fixed on the motion for a second too long “And that hurts you, duh, obviously.” 

You think it's adorable he's also a little nervous but you only smile and don't give him shit for it like you would do to anyone else “When you're obsessed with the idea of someone specifically seeing you a certain way, yes, it hurts,” you shrug “I'll get over it though.” 

“I feel that,” he says and you can imagine. You sensed it in his feelings last time, you can't actually believe the coincidence and irony of it all “Did you and this guy…?” 

“We went to highschool together. He was the only person who I thought saw me for who I was, whoever that is,” there's a bitterness in the laugh you let out you don't enjoy “We kissed a few times, he told me pretty things and I feel. Totally forgot about me when he had a summer glow up before we started our first semester, though.”

“Well, he's an asshole.” 

“He's not, not really,” and you desperately need to change the topic to him, so you bump your shoulder against him one more time “Did you come with your Sophie?” you ask, pretending to not know about Wonder Woman and the fact that she's here with somebody else. 

He catches who you're talking about, though and shakes his head, giving you. tight smile. 

“No, no, uhm… She has a date.” 

You hum “Are you hurt too?” 

“I'm bitter,” he whispers back, right away “Don't know if that's the same as being hurt, but I'm bitter.”

Silence falls comfortably around the understanding in between you both. You stare at each other, lips slowly curving upwards until you end up laughing yet again at the absurdity of the situations you're both in. 

“Guess we're just… A pair of losers tonight, huh?” 

“And what a pair we make.” 

You agree. There's this electricity running through you, you even dare to say it's running through him too and it makes you slightly regret not kissing him last week. 

If you did, the desire to do so right now would be easier to come to terms with. 

Thankfully, the same thing seems to be going through his mind “I know I was drunk, but I wanted to kiss you so bad.” 

“Are you drunk now?” You ask back in a whisper. He shakes his head. 

“Don't want to ruin your pretty makeup. Besides, you said last time—” 

You lean into his space a bit. 

“That was then,” you interrupt with a tiny smile “And now is now.” 

“That's how time usually works, yes,” he laughs and you join, rolling your eyes at the bad joke. You can see the second he makes the decision, his hand hesitantly finding your cheek and, when you don't recoil at the possible contact, he leaves it there “But are you sure it's okay?” 

You know why he's asking. He doesn't want to take advantage of a vulnerable moment, neither do you.

But you want to kiss him. 

“It’s matte,” you say instead and you hope he understands the real meaning behind your answer “The lipstick, it's matte. And the base It's set with really good powder, too, because I thought…” 

You thought that somebody else was going to kiss you tonight. 

He gets it. He understands why you did it and he scoffs with mild annoyance at it, which makes you smile. 

“Y/N,” he closes the distance between you even more and your breath hitches with anticipation before he whispers: “I'm going to kiss you so good, you'll forget about his lips forever.” 

That's the best thing someone has ever said to you, ever. You shudder at the thought and just stare, eyes dropping when he leans in further and his nose bumps into yours. 

“Do you want that?” 

Sleeping with Wooyoung won’t fix your problems. It sure won’t, not yours, not his but it doesn’t need to. You don’t know what the remedy for a wounded heart is but a distraction from the hurt can’t be all that bad. 

It's still a little bit pathetic how you whimper in response to his question. 

But it gains you the prize of tasting him for the first time, his minty flavor mixing with the remnants of whatever soda you had earlier and you sigh into the encounter. He’s not as delicate as you thought he would be. 

Wooyoung kisses you hard, with want, with need, with something you recognize in yourself and give back: the need for a distraction, for a feeling other than that hurt and bitterness you two mentioned not even three minutes ago. 

You don't know what to do with your hands, where to put them, but he fixes that. He grabs them, puts them on his shoulder, scoots a bit more into you and so your chest touches his and he sighs in contentment at that. 

You feel a little bit nervous, but that’s okay. 

It’s not like you’ve never been touched, like you’ve never done this sort of thing but it is the first time you want it. You want him. 

You’re not numb this time around, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up when his other hand joins and keeps you in place, pulling back a second to take in some air before going back in for another toe curling kiss. 

Mind disconnecting from the outside world, you curse the layers of clothing (and there’s a lot) in between you when his hands travel down to your waist, against your body, caressing it and then grasping it in a way you’ve never felt before. 

It’s not rushed and it doesn’t really feel like something that you both want to get out of your system even though it is. You don’t really expect Wooyoung to ask you on a date after hooking up at a sorority party, after all. 

Oh. 

The party, that’s right. Did you lock the door? No, no. He walked in and didn't, you think. 

You can’t really think straight when he’s biting your bottom lip and then licking it as an apology for his misbehaving. It draws a breathy moan out of you and he drinks it, tongue meeting yours for the first time ever as you stand up from the bed, kiss never breaking, his 

body following yours. 

You’re wearing a lace ruffle white collar that goes with your costume. It’s cute, surprisingly not itchy at all and right now it seems to be getting in his way. His fingers look for the velcro clasp and then, when he loosens it enough, he janks it off. 

Somehow, you enjoy the theatrics and you giggle as his mouth abandons yours.

“Woo…” You manage to say when his lips start to make acquaintance with your neck, over your pulse. Craning your head to the side, he moves to the skin that unveils because of it and it’s hard to think of anything but the way you start to tremble under his touch. 

Grounding yourself by sinking your fingers in his hair, you attempt to speak again but he keeps distracting you. 

“Fuck, say that again.” 

Humming, you return “Woo,” you say again, “the door…”  

He moves to the other side of your neck “What about it?” 

“It’s— Oh,” teeth sink into your skin and you moan out loud, you can practically feel his smirk on your skin after that and your face burns as a consequence. “W-we need to lock it.” 

“Afraid someone will walk in on us?” he finally pulls away enough for you to see his face. His lips are swollen and there’s a flush across his cheeks that sits beautifully there when he smiles, forehead resting against yours a second later “You don’t like that thought?” 

There’s a part of you that doesn’t think it’s proper. It’s bad enough you’re hooking up with a somewhat stranger in a room that isn’t yours, but people finding out? That should terrify you. 

But it doesn’t. He seems to read it on your delayed response and the way your eyes widen with need when he pulls away again to watch your reaction to what he said. 

“You do, don’t you?” and then you’re moving, backwards, backwards, backwards until your back hits the door and there’s this passion glistening in his eye that excites you and sends spikes down your spine and into your core “You want people to know I’m kissing you dumb, hm? You want them to see what I’m doing to you?” 

He pauses and you feel like it’s on purpose, you feel like he takes in you heaving chest and the way your eyes follow the veins down his arms when he presses his hand behind you, pushing into your space a bit more and you should feel overwhelmed like you normally do with everyone else, but you don’t. 

You want him to get even closer.

“You want them to see what you do to me?” 

His whisper shakes you, awakens something in you that you desperately want to explore. It makes you feel shy and brave at the same time and the contradiction makes you bite down a smile. 

There’s no need for you to see what you’re doing to him, you can feel it when the hand that wanders to his waist pulls him closer, forward, until his hips meet yours and his leg finds a home between yours. Grunting, he raises a brow and gives you a knowing grin, but you enjoy surprising people. 

Your black gloves contrast against his skin and the white of his shirt when you caress the arm planted next to you and he follows the motion, letting out a breath “What if I don’t?” you ask, low, like it’s a secret you don’t want anyone else to find out even if you’re alone in this room “What if I want to keep you all to myself?” Watching his expression carefully, you try to measure if you’re crossing the invisible hookup line with your words but he closes his eyes and there’s no way for you to tell, so you correct your possible mistake in a whisper “For the night. You don’t want me to be only yours tonight?” 

Something twitches against your leg and the brief tension melts from your shoulder. Damn, you’re not that mouthy during these sort of scenarios so you almost, almost fucked up, huh? 

It doesn’t really matter when his free hand brushes his knuckles against your stomach, over your clothes and the ridiculously big buttons of your costume and then leaves you to twist the lock on the door “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, by the way.” 

“I want you.” The words get out before you think it through and you don’t mind it. You value honesty, you love when your body acts before your mind has the time to make you feel ashamed of your own feelings and wants. 

It pays off because his expression morphs in pure want and his tone is a whimper when he begs you, forehead meeting yours again “Again.” 

“I want you, Woo…” You whisper against his lips and then his mouth is on yours hungrier than ever before. The wood hurts against your back but Wooyoung’s hands pull you against him to move you away from it. 

This time, your hands know exactly what to do, because you know exactly what you want. They tug at his cape, trying to find the clasp of it with desperate trembles because your heart is beating faster and faster and you’re impatient, body too impertinent and rebelling against your wishes of taking this slow and savoring every little touch.

Cape on the floor, you feel his hand trying to figure out your costume. It makes you laugh and you’re glad he returns it, looking down at it and frowning at all the fabric he finds. With your hands against his chest, you push him into the mattress and he lands gracefully on it, supporting himself with his arms “I’ll do it.”

“Baby, this is a great costume and you look so fucking cute on it but why is there so much layering?” 

The nickname is new and he doesn’t seem to catch that it slipped out of his mouth so you don’t comment on it but it sure deepens the color on your cheeks and you laugh shyly, tilting your head to side in a playful manner. 

“I told you I like dressing up.” 

“And it shows! Mine’s a little simple,” without the cape, he just looks like a dude with a loose white shirt and black trousers. A handsome dude, but just a dude nevertheless “But I wanted you to find me, so…” 

“What was the first option?” 

“Beast Boy.” 

There’s something that crosses his expression that goes away the second he sees you slowly working the buttons and the skin underneath reveal after each one. His eyes fix on it and you’re sure you look ridiculous in the makeup and the get up and all but he’s looking at you with so much need you feel sexy wearing it. 

The shirt comes off. You’re wearing a cropped top and a bra underneath and you hook your thumbs under it to make him believe you’re taking it off, but you don’t. 

“You’re killing me.” He groans out and you laugh at him, making a show of bringing your hands down your torso and into your hips. You move to take off the striped bloomers that are matching with the tights you plan on taking off next. 

Your underwear doesn’t exactly match but you weren’t really planning on any of this with anyone. You weren’t planning on going this far but you don’t really care when it’s all, eventually, it’s just going to be off, so it doesn’t really matter. 

“Want to take these off yourself or you’re going to make me do all the work?” 

Smiling, he sits straight on the bed, taking your hand in his and bringing it to his mouth he nips the satin fabric of your glove, it loosening around your index when he pulls. He must see the way it affects you immediately, the way you breath catches, because the corner of his lips lifts up before he does the same to the thumb, the middle finger, the ring and the pinky and then he pulls the glove completely off. 

You feel like you short circuit for a second, even more so when he keeps the hand close to him and starts kissing the pad of your fingers so softly it doesn’t match the hunger in his eyes at all. 

And you’re killing him? 

It happens in a flash but the other glove is off and then your tights, your top and his shirt are off and on the floor and you’re sitting on his lap, tongue parting his lips and mouth bruising against his and you feel like you’re in a small pocket in time no one can really disturb. No one can burst this bubble, this cloud you land on when he turns you around and the expensive material of the sheets touches your bare back. 

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” 

When did he take off your bra? It doesn’t matter, his lips are making their way down your throat and exploring your chest, gaining puffs of air and moans from you when he flicks your nipples with his tongue, expert and careful, measuring your reaction and doing it again when your back arches off the bed instead of verbally asking for more. 

He kisses down, down until his teeth are catching your underwear. Looking up to you, he searches for an answer in your eyes and you both come to an unspoken agreement. Even if you’re both taking your time in exploring each other, there’s no actual time for him to eat you out, for you to get on your knees and taste him as well. 

You immediately wonder if there’s going to be another opportunity to do all of that. Either way, there’s not enough time to wonder. You help him get out of his trousers, his boxer briefs and you stare at him with an eyebrow up and an open and watering mouth. 

He laughs at your reaction, like he was expecting it. 

He stops laughing when you reach for him. Breathing hard when your thumb teases his tip, gathering precum, he shakes his head and you immediately stop “Baby, we… Not tonight.” 

Then when? You want to ask. 

You just nod before bringing the thumb to your mouth, tasting him and humming in content. Wooyoung leans in and puts his tongue on yours a second later.

He smiles, teeth sinking on your bottom lip before diving in for another kiss “Dirty girl.” He teases you and you shrug. 

“You look so good,” You say against him, pecking his lips, “Couldn’t help myself,” fingers grasping the hairs at the nape of his neck, like you did the night you met, you stop him from kissing you again just to whisper “You taste so good too.”   

His eyes almost roll at that, hips stuttering against you and almost brushing where they need to. “Fuck, don’t say shit like that to me, Y/N.” 

“Sorry.” You say but it’s clear in your smile that you’re not sorry at all and maybe you shouldn’t have because when it comes to taking your last piece of clothing off, he takes his time. 

Fingernails raise goosebumps as they softly go through your skin and he lets out a ragged breath “So fucking beautiful.” 

You feel beautiful. That’s good, because earlier tonight, before you catched him staring up at you on the balcony, you felt undesirable. You felt little, small, incomparable in the worst way possible because… Why not you? 

His words reassure you. Even if you know that’s something you need to do yourself (built enough confidence to not let the choices of a man who doesn’t give a damn about you define your self worth), it helps you tend that wound that reopened. 

He touches you and you feel worth it again. You believe it when your panties fall to the ground and your legs part for him and he looks at you in delight, thumb finding your clit and circling it right away “So fucking wet, fuck.” 

Your hips go up when he finds the right pacing, the right pressure to it and you really shouldn't moan this loud but you don’t care when he lets out a moan of his own at the way your face scrunches in pleasure “I want you.” You let out, breathy and pliant under his touch. 

“You got me,” he’s sweating but you don’t really care, you love the way his pretty nose touches yours when he leans in, index searching and then entering you. “Fuck, I could slip right in, hm? Is that what you want?” 

A moan slips out when he finds your sweet spot and strokes it carefully, he takes it as a reply and, honestly, it is all you can let out at the moment. You squeeze the second finger as it enters you, so it gives away how much you like the thought of that. 

“You do,” he says, teasingly and smiles against your lips as he pecks it “Dirty girl,” He repeats and you shake your head again, hips bucking up when the heel of his hand press against your clit and it sends a new wave of heat across your entire body “Impatient girl. I wish you were in my room now, fuck.” 

You wish that too.

“Woo…” 

“I had to—” 

“I know but there’s people—” Passing the door, you can sense it. In this midst of anything, you can sense it. 

“Who cares about them—”

There’s a phone vibrating somewhere in the room and it’s definitely not yours. He ignores it, fingers picking up their pace. 

“I need you,” you whisper, propping yourself up to kiss his mouth “Please, please fuck me.”

“I want you to come first.” He communicates his crude intention so cutely you might actually miss him when this is all over. 

“And I want to come with you.” 

That stops him and you can literally feel him get harder where he rests against your inner thigh.

“Condom?” You ask in a whisper. 

“Condom, right, fuck—” Both moving to reach his pants on the floor, you giggle and his lips find your cheek for a second as your torsos hang from the bed and you can safely say you never had more fun during sex before this. 

It’s lighthearted even if you’re both practically strangers and then it grows hot, sexy, passionate again when he finds the condom, breaks the package open and then rolls it on with practiced moves. He kisses you, laying back down against the pillows and aligning himself with your entrance. 

“Wait, let me just…” 

“What?” 

You turn around, laying flat on your chest and arching your back just a little so that you can open up your legs for him to enter. You look at him over your shoulder and his surprised expression makes you giggle “You never tried this one?” you ask and at his silence, you nod “Look how easy it is for me to—” Reaching down your stomach and reaching your clit with your fingers for him to see, you circle it a few times and close your eyes at the sensation. 

He kisses the small of your back “Holy fuck, Y//N.” 

“I told you that I’m coming with you, I’m helping.” 

He leans into you, his tip pressing against your clit deliciously “You’re so fucking hot, I almost came.” 

“That’s the point, Woo.” You say through pants, his hands kneading your ass and spreading you open for him to see. It’s a little nasty and you wonder what you both could do with a little more time and less people waiting for you outside. For him, at least. 

When he enters you, the moan that leaves you echoes his and you probably needed just a little bit more prep for the size of him but since you’re so turned on it barely matters when he’s completely seated inside of you and this position just makes it feel ten times better “You feel so good, baby, fuck.” 

“Yeah?” His chest is touching your back now and his lips are leaving open mouth kisses on your shoulder. He moves his hips experimentally and you moan into the sheets, sweat running down your neck and your chest into them but you don’t have time to feel bad for the owner of the bed at all “Was that okay?”

“You can go harder.” 

“Yeah? Fuck.” 

He complies right away and it feels so good you let yourself close your eyes and fully enjoy it, consequences be damned. 

People outside the room hearing you moan? Who cares when your fingers the weight of Wooyoung against you feels so right? 

When his thrusts help you grind your clit on your fingers just right, especially when he increases the speed of them and the wave of pleasure that hits you squeezes him around you so good his moan bounces off the walls and outside of the balcony where someone downstairs giggles and whistles. 

“Oh, God,” he says, a little ashamed but never slowing down and you turn your head, searching for his lips “We should’ve closed that door too.” 

You decide to tease him to wipe that emotion from him and just focus on you “Thought you wanted to give people a show.” 

Opening your eyes, you are able to watch when his eyes harden slightly at the thought, pace faltering as he lets out a tiny whimper. 

“And I thought you wanted me for yourself tonight,” he resumes his relentless pace, thrusting in and out of you with ease now and your cheek meets the sheets again so the bed can muffle your sounds “Maybe next time.” 

Next time. 

You don't really have time to dwell on what that means because you’re so worked up it won’t take much for you to come. You let Wooyoung know and he nods, his forehead against your shoulder again “Kiss me.” He whispers and you crane your neck to do so, to swallow his moans down and keep them with you forever. 

You swallow all of them down when his hips stutter and he comes and you know he keeps yours when you let yourself come right alone with him. He fucks you through both of your orgasms and slows down gradually until he grows sensitive and hisses at any tiny movement and your arms go kind of numb underneath you. 

There’s a sense of urgency your mind picks up immediately after but you ignore it. You have nowhere to go and they charged you twenty dollars to get into this stupid party so they can wait for you two to return to it. 

But there’s a phone vibrating somewhere. And even if you both hear it, Wooyoung turns you around and leans in to give you a kiss so sweet you almost want to keep it with you as well. 

When he pulls away, you wipe the sweat on his forehead with your hands and brush the hair out his face so delicately he closes his eyes and seems to enjoy your touch. 

Now what the hell should you say at a moment like this? Where he doesn’t seem in any rush to leave you and you don’t really want him to leave either. 

Do you tell him he did good? Do you tell him you enjoyed it, that he made you feel safe? That’s the first time in ages you enjoy a quick fuck this much? 

That—

“Please give me your number.” 

Oh, he’s actually adorable. He takes your stunned expression and silence the wrong way, though, and he sits on his knees, pulling out of you and working on getting his condom off while he speaks. 

“I can give you at least ten reasons you should give me your number. Number one, I enjoyed this a lot and I can do better if you give me time, number two—”

“Woo, you literally just fucked me with clown makeup on. I think we’re past you giving me reasons to sleep with you,” you sit up as well, taking his face in your hands again and leaning in to kiss his cheek soundly “Give me your phone.” 

He gets off the bed and looks around the room for the trash can. It’s a tiny one, sitting on top of a desk and you really, really start to feel bad for the girls who are going to have to sleep off their drunken night in this room. You’re surprised that no one knocked on the door but, on party eastern time, it’s still kind of early. 

Two thirty am reads the clock on Wooyoung’s phone when he hands it to you, unblocked. There’s messages flowing in and you try your best to not read them as you enter your number and name into his contacts but you do notice they’re from a group chat. 

You wonder if his friend group is big, if he’s close to all of them, what kind of friend he is. You’re impatient, you want to get to know him all of the sudden and you know it’s dangerous for expectations to grow after a hookup but, as you hand him his phone back, you can’t help but let out a “Woo, do you just want to fuck me or do you want to be my friend too? Something more?” 

He’s reading the messages on the group chat with a frown when your questions register in his brain and he looks up, a curious expression and a tiny smile “You’re very direct, aren’t you?” 

“I hate wondering and mysteries,” you shrug, “I don’t want to expect the wrong thing.”

“Fair,” he nods. “I’m more of a… Just wait and see what happens kind of guy, but if you want an honest answer I just don’t really know. I want to see you again, though.” 

“I want to see you again, too,” You murmur back and he smiles, leaning in a fraction to try and kiss you again but then there’s a thud against the door and a soft ouch coming from behind it that interrupts you “We should really get out of here.” 

It takes a millisecond for him to misinterpret what you meant, smirk growing on his lips when you shake your head disapprovingly and blushing while you pick your panties from the ground and get up to slip them on. 

“Not what I meant!” 

“I mean,” he starts to dress himself as well, “I wouldn’t mind.” 

“No,” you say but you don’t sound so sure of it yourself and it makes him smile even wider, so you roll your eyes. “Where are my…”

“Here.” He hands you the tights and you thank him, almost falling while trying to put them on fast the next second. He laughs at you “Just sit down, babe.” 

“Don’t laugh!” 

“I’m literally not!” 

You tease each other as you get in costume again. This time the fabric bothers you a little but only because you’re sticky and sweaty even if it’s the last day of october. 

Fully clothed, you walk to the door and you suddenly feel very shy and nervous at what can await you behind it. Wooyoung seems to see it on your face, so he steps in your space and kisses your lips sweetly, holding your waist respectfully like he didn’t just make you come less than ten minutes ago. 

“I’m so glad I met you,” he whispers against you and you melt even if you don’t want to. He doesn’t specify why and you don’t ask, but he does smile when you peck his lips one last time before stepping away “Do you want to step out together or do you want to go first, should I go first? We can meet downstairs,” he clarifies before you can think the worst and you giggle “We can leave together too, if you want.” 

You know he means the party. 

But his phone vibrates again, insistently shaking in his pocket and you rest your head against the door softly “I feel like you have people that need you right now.” 

He takes the phone out of his pocket. The screen reads “yuri”, with a series of heart emojis and a middle finger emoji at the end and his expressions turn worrisome immediately. 

“Shit, no, you’re right, um…” 

Stepping away from the door, you grab the knob and open it for him “Do your thing, Woo.” 

You think you know exactly who's calling him. 

Like you already knew, sleeping with Wooyoung didn't fix yours problems at all: 

It hurts that she's been chosen over you again, but you keep the soft smile on your lips either way. 

“I'll text you. I'll call you, I—” he leans into you again, stealing a hard, parting kiss that you probably are going to think about until he keeps his promise “Hey, everything alright?” You faintly hear when he picks up the call. 

When he leaves the room and closes the door behind him, you sag against the wood of it and let yourself meet the cold floor to try and plan out how you're getting out of there and how long it would take you to walk to your dorm room at this time. 

But then your phone digs in your hand, screen lighting up the dark room and your face. 

+82-8-918-2910: my friend got sick bc she drank too much. wish i could take you to your dorm. text me when you get there, yeah? x 

It makes you smile. Despite it all, it makes you smile really hard. 

+82-8-918-2910: it's wooyoung btw ;)  +82-8-918-2910: send me pic of how you save meeeee  +82-8-918-2910: okay my friend is puking in the pool and her date it's fucking useless i have to go text me back pls!! xx 

When you catch yourself re-reading the texts on your home screen and grinning, this time like a complete fucking idiot, you know you'll have to start thinking of another recipe to mend yet another broken heart. 

That's fine. At least you're not thinking about Superman anymore. 

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated, don't be afraid to go to my inbox and leave your thoughts there, i love reading them!

© jensthwa, 2024.

[ghostyeyestohide]

Space & Time

(I Put A Spell On You Part 2)

Pairing: Terrance (Foe) x Valerie (Plus Size Black Fem OC) x Junior (Foe) x Hen (Foe)

Warnings: Buildup (if you got the attention span of a squirrel, DONT READ), some bisexuality (from m and admission from f), caught kissing (bxb), panic attack, masturbation (m), moaning (m), tension, cussing, drinking, emotions, jealousy, angst, mentioning of climate change, mentioning of family (how they met), and Non-Canon.

Summary: Valerie and Terrance go to Junior and Hen’s for two nights, where tension builds up between the quartet, specifically Junior and Valerie.

Parts: Part One

A/N: This was supposed to be the one where the threesome happens. But as I was writing this, I realize this is gonna be way too long for it to be one part, hence why I ended up turning this from being a three part series to a four part now. I think I made the best decision as this is like perfect development in my mind (and showing more of my style), so I hope you guys enjoy this one!

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do not copy or repost my work. I do not authorize it.

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Valerie adjusts the top of her blue milkmaid dress as the self driving car, carrying her and Terrance, wearing a matching color suit, drives down this empty road.

Surrounded by puddles and dirt, the climate had gotten increasingly worse over the years, the whole forest in the area died due to deforestation, leaving most towns baring it all in the worsing weather every year.

“Do we have to spend two nights? We’re only an hour away.” she asked, looking at him, who was working on his laptop.

“It’s mandatory since he’ll be home in 96 hours. It’s only just to wind him down so we’re prepared to shut him off.” he replied, not taking his eyes off the screen.

“And how is she handling it?” she asked, looking down the pan of rosemary-vanilla frosted honey pound cake she’s carrying in her lap.

“Not well. She’s still not understanding, but is accepting it slowly.”

“….how are you holding up?”

“……I had better days.” he sighed, trying to not let his emotions out.

She touches his thigh, gently rubbing it. He places his right hand on top of hers, squeezing it.

“You know you can tell me anything, right? I won’t say something you wouldn’t want to hear.”

He looks at her, giving her a small smile before bring her hand to place a kiss on it.

“I’m fine. I swear. It’s…..still brewing. But I think I’ve calm down a bit. He seems even more annoyed with me constantly taking notes and pictures, but I’m just doing my job.”

“Oh, I would know. I was so confused when you were doing that as her memories were being uploaded slowly into my head.” she says, chuckling as he rubbed her hand against his face.

“She was like that when we started the preparation for the trip too. Hated the scans, made sure I was noting what she believed was worth including, self conscious about how you were gonna come out…..” he replied, trailing off with the last word.

Terrance lets go of Valerie’s hand, turning his head back to his laptop. She looks ahead, placing her hand back on the pan, thinking if she made a mistake by mentioning her. He doesn’t get emotional about the accident anymore like he used to, but it’s still a soft spot since that was his wife he lost.

“Can you promise me something, Val?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“….depends on what is it.” she replied, looking at him again.

“Its nothing I would put you through. Unless you want to be.” he said, looking at her.

“I thought I can call the shots when you say that?”

He laughs before kissing her softly, grabbing her face in the process. She responds with kissing him back for a few seconds before pulling herself back.

“As much as I would like to take this to the next level, I don’t wanna drop this cake I worked hard on.” she said, lifting it slightly.

“Mmhm. But seriously: don’t reveal your true self to any of them when I’m not around. Its best to keep it private so they don’t freak out or try to do something that might have consequences for all of us. And watch what you say too. Understand?”

Valerie nods in agreement. He gently pushes a few strands of her hair out of her face as he shut his laptop, placing it in his suitcase.

“So where are we moving to now?” she asks.

“That is up in the air as I have requested if we stayed here permanently.” he replied, grabbing one of her hands and holding it in his lap.

“What? Why? We always traveled to the next one when the assignment is done.”

“You seem to enjoy living here more than the previous locations we were at.”

“How would you know? You were only with me a few times since we moved here.”

“Always remember that one of the things I do great at my job is taking notes. And since we’ve been living here, I noticed you feel more calmer, enjoying the quietness and darkness a lot. I mean, you do sit on the porch and crochet as you watch the stars bloom. I never hear you complain about being overheated, uncomfortable, squished in…I see everything, even when I’m focused on work.” he said, tracing his fingers over her hand.

“But you still have to travel to your next assignment. After you said you would never leave me alone out here ever.”

He smiled, making her look at him in a confused way.

“Except, I’m hoping I won’t be doing that much longer. See, OuterMore’s slogan always mention going to space to improve the future. While I do enjoy helping our customers with having a replica taking care of their spouse while the other is in space for two years, I want to move up in the company as I feel I have outgrown this.”

“Like what? Being a board member? CEO?”

“No, no.” he chucked. “A lab analyst. I’ll be looking at tests, data, new files, old files, watching them make the replicas, disabling the old ones, just to name a few.”

“So. Somewhat similar to what you do now, but you’re at the main headquarters?”

“No. I would be at the regional headquarters that’s on the opposite side of the airport we came in at. Which is a two hour drive, meaning I won’t be gone all day or too far from you, my love.” he said, rubbing her face.

Valerie smiled, blushing at the thoughts of them possibly settling down instead of worrying about where they’re going next.

“Hm. I like the sound of that.” she responded with, nudging her face on his shoulder.

“That’s why you have to hope they’ll approve it. I think they will with how much data I provided them with over these last few years. But, like I said about hiding your true self, keep this between us as well.”

“Understood.” she said, nodding slightly.

The couple sat in silence, caressing each other hands as the car turns on a road.

“We will be arriving to your destination in about five minutes.” said the voice of the car, starling Valerie.

“You have got to get use to the car.”

“Hush. I don’t ride in this usually!”

Terrance laughs as he rubs her hip, glaring out of the window as they get closer to Junior and Hen’s.

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A few minutes later, the car pulls into the driveway of a house on farm, with a man working on it, moving hay around. As it got closer, the man’s visibility becomes clearer, revealing him as Junior, who automatically gets annoyed as he looks at the car. Dressed in a white shirt, blue jeans, and brown boots, he drops the batch of hey from his hands, slowly walks over to them.

“He doesn’t seem to be in a good mood.” said Valerie as she looked at him.

“On cue as soon as he sees me.” said Terrance.

The car parks in front of the porch, turning itself off before unlocking the door and lifting it up. Terrance steps out first, sending a smile towards Junior before helping Valerie get out, fixing the bottom of her dress.

Soft stomps are heard before the front door swings open. Out comes a young, blond haired woman in a peach button top, a brownish plaid long skirt, and brown knee high boots. She looks at them with an emotionless stare, as if they are trespassing and should leave.

“Good to see you again, Junior and Hen.” said Terrance, gently pulling Valerie close to him.

“We don’t have a choice at this point, do we?” says Junior as he stands next to Hen. Terrance chuckles, nodding at the question.

“Patience is key. We still got a long way to go before you depart for your trip.”

“Well, you and your company hasn’t made it easy for us at all. Just different things every time you show up.” said Hen, looking at him.

“He’s just doing his job with getting everything that’s needed for the replica. He understands that you two are very upset about his selection to go to space and how you feel like you don’t have enough time before he goes, but at the end of the day, this is just his job’s requirements and probably wants to get this done faster so he can be out of your hair.” said Valerie, who is now visibly irritated.

Junior looks at her with curiosity as Hen gives her the death stare, making Val feel a bit uncomfortable.

“Oh, where are my manners! Junior and Hen, this is Valerie. My beautiful wife that I have mentioned quite a few times. She’ll be staying here as well as we do a couple more tests, if you don’t mind.” said Terrance, doing a ‘showing her off’ gesture, with Valerie smiling a little.

Hen nods as she looks at Junior, who is still looking at Valerie with curiosity in his face.

“Luckily, the room is big enough for the both of you and your things, so I don’t mind.” said Hen, forcing a smile.

“Excuse me?” asked Valerie.

“Not like that. I meant if you bought a bunch of suitcases for your things……or some random boxes from your husband’s job.” she said, shooting a look at Terrance.

“If it makes you feel any better, she only brought two.” said Terrance as he turned to take out her suitcases and his.

“As long as she’s not doing random tests or taking notes while watching me do anything, I don’t care.” said Junior.

“Makes you uncomfortable?” asked Valerie.

“A little. I tend to lose focus in whatever I’m doing.”

“….makes sense. You fit it well.”

Junior stares at her, slightly turning red, as Hen shoots her a look while Terrance stares at her in confusion.

“And what is that supposed to mean, Valerie?” she asked.

“Nothing. Just an observation. Tend to take after Terrance sometimes. A natural habit.” said Valerie, staring at Junior.

Terrance lets out a ‘hm’ sound before grabbing the suitcases and walking towards the door.

“Let’s go inside, shall we?” he said as he walks up the stairs.

The rest followed behind, with Hen running over to open the door and held it for Terrance and Valerie as they walked in, with Hen and Junior following.

After Terrance places their suitcases in their room, he comes back downstairs to the living room, where he takes a seat next to Valerie as Hen sat in one of the chairs while Junior stands, pacing back and forth.

“So. Do you often spend the night or…nights at his assignment’s house?” asked Hen.

“When I was first accompanying him, yes. But, I guess after he completed enough assignments, they started paying for any place we wanted to live at as he worked. That’s been our routine ever since. But, this is also my first time doing this again.” said Valerie as she looked at Terrance, who smiles back at her.

“So….are you in a different city when he accepts a new assignment after he completes the previous or you two move immediately?” asked Junior, who now takes a seat in the other chair.

“The latter. It’s important that the partner/spouse of the agent stays with them as they wait for the two years to go by, examining whatever’s going on up there close by at home.”

“OuterMore takes it seriously. They too can feel when our workers might feel lonely as they travel.” said Terrance.

“Hm. They understand that, but doesn’t seem anything wrong with randomly selecting people to get put on a rocket ship and sent to space as a replica operates their daily lives as if they’re the actual person.” said Junior, looking at Terrance.

“Junior.” Hen whispered.

“What? It’s not like I’m lying cause it’s not fucking normal and he acts like it is!” he said as he stands up, very heated. Valerie thought ‘hothead’ to herself, noticing a common trait she sees in Terrance’s subjects when talking about this.

“It’s for a better future for the planet. You seen the videos, my explanation, and the many success stories that came out of it. I say it’s very normal as the government approves it.” said Terrance, watching him pace back and forth.

“And you’re fine with what he’s doing? Coming in the middle of the night, telling strangers they been selected to space, disappearing for a while, and then suddenly returns, saying “we need to your measurements, memories, looks, what time you eat, how you shit, how you eat for your replica” constantly? Then when it’s all over, you move onto the next? That’s normal for you, Valerie? Your agent husband rolling into strangers’ house with a deal of a lifetime as you sit home, being oblivious?” he said, standing a few feet from the couple.

Valerie looks at him with a glare in her, processing what he just said to her.

“Junior, that’s enough! That is not how we welcome guests into our home!” said Hen as she got up, staring very anger at him.

“She’s not a guest. Just someone who follows everything he tells her to do.”

Valerie chuckles quietly, trying to find the right words to say without making this moment even worse.

“That is not how you talk to a wo…” Terrance attempts to get up to confront him, but she pulls him down, signaling him to not doing anything that might get him in trouble.

“You know…..I knew it was going to be you, and I mean specifically you, that was going to utter that.” she said, looking at Junior.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. You think everything is perfectly fine here, but don’t realize the people you love are suffering around you. But I’m the oblivious one here?”

“Because everything is fine. I’m fine. Hen’s fine. The house is fine. All of this here? Definitely not.”

“Hen is definitely not fine. You just ignored her pleading to stop. In fact, you ignore everything she wants because you think being home and away from downtown is what makes life worth living.” she said as she stands up, placing the cake on the table.

“Valerie, baby, don’t.” mumbles Terrance as he tries to pull her down, but she snatches her arm.

“Oh, so we’re telling secret information to people that shouldn’t be knowing, Terrance? I thought you valued that.” said Junior as he stepped closer, but Hen pushes him back, mumbling “Stop!”.

“He does because he didn’t tell me. The notes on the file did. At least he knows how to value something instead of blowing it off for their own needs.”

“Valerie….” said Terrance, looking at her.

“Oh, so now it’s my own needs?” asks Junior.

“Yeah. Your own needs since you can’t please Hen’s.” says Valerie.

“Please stop.” said Hen, looking at her. Valerie shakes her head before gently moving Hen out of the way to stand in front of Junior.

“No, cause what we’re not gonna do here is let Junior walk all over you, me, and him because he hasn’t found his happiness yet. Which is why he’s very angry, dismissive about everything, and if anything, too possessive. So tell me. What are you hiding behind this tough guy persona, Junior?” she says as she gets in Junior’s face.

Junior looks her up and down, before glancing at Terrance, who sends a glare back at him. Junior leans near her ear, lowering his voice.

“You know he’s been spending a lot of time with my wife, right? Secret meetings, going in town for something, helping her out. You don’t find that worrying? Your husband being around another woman that’s not you?” he whispers.

Valerie looks back at Terrance, who is slowly getting angry and stands up.

“….I’m not dumb and I think you know that. If anything, you should be very cautious with your behavior because I know everything that she doesn’t know. Mentally, physically, and sexually. Especially that night.” she whispers back, glaring at him.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Is that a threat? Or is this your way of getting something you want from him?” she asks in her normal voice.

“Why you little….” he says, getting even more close to her.

Hen and Terrance look at each other before getting between the both of them, separating them. Junior reacts by flipping the chair and storming out, starling Hen. Terrance shakes his head before looking at Valerie, who looks down in an impertinent way.

“I told you to watch your mouth.” he says.

“Nothing gets better if you let someone like him walk over you.”

“He’s just uncomfortable.” said Hen.

“Well, he needs to grow up and be a man.”

“That’s just how he is!” she said, now extremely pissed.

“Oh well. This will all be over soon anyway. Oh, and I made this cake for you guys, if you give a damn.” said Valerie as she picks up the pan and carries it to the kitchen.

“Val!” said Terrance.

“Gee, thanks. That will go well with whatever we’re eating after I go grocery shopping as soon as I find Junior!” she yelled, storming out the house.

Valerie rolls her eyes before placing the pan on the counter. Suddenly, she feels a painful sensation from her stomach, causing her to fall on her knees and clenching it as she lets out a painful groan. Terrance rushes over, kneeling down to lift her up.

“Where does it hurt at?! Locate it to me!” he says.

She grabs his hand and places it over her stomach, breathing harshly. The area has a warm feeling that kept rising until it went away, along with the sensation. He stares in confusion, looking up at her, who now had an uneasy expression on her face.

“Seems like you were overheating a bit, but it went away.” he said, rubbing his hand over to check other areas.

“I probably need to rest. My tab is still half full, so I’ll be fine until tomorrow night.” she mumbled, slowly becoming tired.

“I’ll carry you to the room. But I might be gone by the time you wake up. Get some rest, sweetheart…” he says, watching her fall asleep in his arms before carrying her up the stairs.

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A few hours later, Valerie wakes up, breathing hoarsely. She sits up, looks around the low sun setted room, realizing that this is their bedroom. She turns to her nightstand, which has a glass of water, a pill, and a note, written by Terrance, that says:

“Take this when you wake up. It should calm down the shocks and whatever else is aching. Me and Junior went in town to do the grocery shopping for Hen and find something to eat for dinner since it will be little too late to cook. Behave yourself while I’m gone.

- T. “

She smiles, shaking her head at the last part before placing the pill in her mouth and washing it down with the water. She gets up, stretching herself out, before walking towards the window. She looks at the empty ground, with some puddles sparking from the blueish-purple sunset.

She thought about how peaceful it is out here. Not having to hear loud traffic, feeling overstimulated by people moving around, arguing, having sex, loud music overflowing your sounds. Just simply doing anything you like without having to worry about anything.

Walking out with her book, ‘Parable of the Sower’ by Octavia E. Butler, to indulge in the view of the growing night sky, she sees Hen lying on a massive branch, looking out in the distance. She calmly walks up, waves at her before taking a seat about a few feet away on the stump.

There’s silence between the two women for a few minutes before Hen looks down at her, watching her read quietly.

“What are you reading?” she asked, making her break out of her focus.

“Parable of the Sower. It tells a fictional story of a girl growing up in her poor stricken gated community as the world is going to chaos during the 2020s Los Angeles. She wrote this about 30 years before it actually happened, and before our time. Basically predicting it.” said Valerie as she showed the book to her in a better view.

“Like what?”

“Well. Climate change, the economic crisis, social inequality, inflation, escape from forced slavery, useless government, the collapse of cities by its citizens. Just to name the important details. Ms. Butler unfortunately didn’t live long enough to see it actually happen.”

“Wow. That’s a lot of predictions to get right.”

“Yeah. He got this for me when we were staying in Los Angeles for his assignment at the time. Said I would like it since I tend to read books like this. And he wasn’t wrong.” she says, smiling a little. It was one of her favorite things about him: getting her things he knows she would like.

“Were you downtown?”

“Not really. We stayed Hidden Hills. His assignment lived on Mulholland Drive, so he wasn’t too far from me.”

“Must be hard being alone all day.”

“Oh, that depends on where we’re at. I sometimes visit historic places on my own, go to the grocery store, shopping sometimes, or just drive around. With his awareness, of course.”

“He’s not bothered with you doing that?”

Valerie makes a confused face before looking Hen, who is still laying down.

“No. Terrance encourages me to explore the areas we’re around instead of waiting for him. If I’m comfortable with doing that. And then, he wants to hear about it or see it, incase I bought something, when he comes home because he doesn’t like being the only one explaining what he did today.”

“…..and what do you do for a living?” she asks as she sits up, keeping her eyes on her.

“Stay-at-home wife. I read, I crochet, I cook sometimes, bake a lot, clean if the place is messy, relax, listen to music on our vinyl player, and sleep in if I’m too lazy to do anything.”

Hen stares at her, at a loss for words with the information she gave her. Valerie, in her head, is thinking “wow, he’s keeping her locked up and she’s letting him for his love”, about to continue reading her book before she heard her laugh.

“Something funny, Hen?” she asks, looking at her again.

“That sounds like you’re using him. And he’s falling for it.” Hen replies slyly.

“Excuse me?”

“You do anything you want as long as he’s okay with it while he works? He wants to hear about your day so he’s not the only one talking? Showing him stuff you bought and he doesn’t get upset?”

“Why would he be upset if I told him what I did and he’s aware? He likes hearing me talk about anything even if I didn’t do nothing and if I have concerns or I’m not happy, he wants to hear it so he can reassure me or find a solution. Not just give up.”

“Oh, I find that very hard to believe he would be doing all of that for you.” she scoffs, looking away.

Valerie looked at her in an appalling way, couldn’t believe she’s accusing her of lying about what her and Terrance do after a long day. She shakes her head, getting up to leave, but stops and turns around.

“You know….envy doesn’t look good on you when you’re the one causing it. Because you’re the only who’s trying to save your marriage here, it doesn’t mean you have to put me down to get me to suffer in your misery.” she states, glaring at her.

“Oh, fuck you, Valerie. Pretending traveling all over the country so he can get information to make replicas of people going to space to replace their home life while you do absolutely nothing is not normal. Waste of time if anything!” she responded, not looking at her.

“Oh? But….you’re the one….who wants to explore, right? You’re the one with the idea of walking out on him, leaving him in an envelope with a letter that has nothing written, just to show how you thought of your relationship.”

Hen looks up, with a scowl on her face. Valerie smiles evilly, leaning forward.

“Yeah. I heard that part in the files. You two both come from sad backgrounds, it’s amazing you lasted this long.”

“And you think you and Terrance are gonna last longer?”

“We have. Hence why I’m here, right? He loves his job and loves taking care of me because he actually loves me. And you hate that. Cause Junior loves you, but not how you want him to. And that’s why you’re reacting the way you are because when the real one comes back, it’s not gonna be the same. Just this replica is willing to try to make you happy, I’ll give him that.”

“You don’t know me. You only know what I told your husband. That’s why you think you can stand there, give advice something you have no idea about. Just taking after his writing and whatever else included…..Junior’s right. You do follow everything he does because you have nothing to go home to after you’re done using him. I feel sorry for you, having to adjusting things to his liking.” Hen says, shaking her head.

Valerie’s jaw drops, in shocked at what she said to her. None of this is true, but watching Hen’s anger towards Junior make her believe that she’s using Terrance because she has nothing for herself just woke up something inside her that she didn’t have: overwhelmed anger. She walks back slow, keeping her glare up.

“I understand that you want to explore things that he won’t let you do because he’s afraid of losing you, hence why you’re taking it out on me and Terrance. I would suggest leaving him, but based on how you two met and looking around…….can’t really do much. But I’ll leave you with this: slap him one more time and I’ll fuck you up.” she uttered before storming off, walking to the house.

As she gets closer, Junior’s truck, with him and Terrance inside, pulls up. The men get out the car to unload the bags of groceries from the back when they see Valerie walking, not noticing her anger all over her.

“Hey baby. I see you’re enjoying the beautiful night sky out here.” said Terrance as he pulls down the tailgate and grabs a few bags.

“Your wife’s a bitch, Junior!” she yells, walking past them and onto the porch, swings the door open, and walks inside.

Both men look at each other, very confused on what just happened before resuming getting the bags.

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Valerie is sitting on the couch on the porch, reading Parable of the Sower, with the hanging bulbs being used as her lights.

Soft steps are heard until the front door opens, with Terrance walks out, carrying a tray of food and drinks.

“Hey.” he says, gently walking over.

“Hey.” she replies, not looking at him.

“I thought you might’ve been hungry and a little thirsty, so I brought you dinner.” he says as he places the tray on the table before sitting next to her. She looks at it, moving her book to the side.

“We decided on burgers from this local place, so I got you your favorite: a Spicy Jack burger with jalapeños, pepper jack cheese, chipotle mayo, sautéed onions, lettuce, and no tomato & pickles, of course. I wasn’t sure if you wanted the spicy seasoning on your fries, so I asked them to put it on the side. And I got you a Sprite. I just got a regular American and a Coke. Hope you like it.” he said as he places her drink and plate in front of her.

“Thanks, but I’m not that hungry right now.” she replied, going back to her book.

“That’s fine. Just don’t let it get cold.” he says, beginning to eat his food.

She nodded, still reading the page. There was silence for a few minutes, with the sounds of Valerie turn a page occurring a few times. Terrance watches her for a few moments, taking in her be focused on reading.

“…what happen between you and Hen while we were out?” he asked, laying back in his seat.

“Nothing.” she replied, not looking at him.

“You sure?”

“Very.”

“So why are you being dismissive?”

“….I can’t read after I said I’m not hungry?” she replied, now looking at him.

“I didn’t say that. I’m just saying…..you’re normally talkative. Asking me things. Just….being you.”

“Well, what if I’m not in the mood to be that right now?” she said, going back to her book.

Terrance frowns at that response, looking out in the opening as he thought about his next move that won’t make her mad.

“….did you two do something that you regret? I wouldn’t be mad if that was case, considering you know. We can always erase it.” he says letting out a small laugh.

Valerie, now anger, throws the book on the ground and stands up. She walks in front of the table, pacing back and forth before turning to him.

“Why the fuck would you assume we hooked up while you and hothead were out? Hm? She’s not even my type! Just because you got attracted to her husband, it’s doesn’t mean I’m going for the wife and I hope that’s not what you’re trying to get me to do.” she said, staring very angry at him.

“Valerie, I wasn’t being—“

“Serious? Because wow, that’s a terrible thing to joke about with me. I would never, ever lay next to someone as miserable as she is and you are a disgusting asshole for that…..”

Her voice trails at the end as she leans on the pillar. Suddenly, her chest begins beating fast, creating a painful sensation that it hurts for her to breath. She places her hand on it, trembling onto her knees as Terrance got and races over to her fast.

“Breathe…breathe….breathe.” he whispers to her as he holds her, mimicking a ‘inhale/exhale’ motion.

She follows, wheezing each time as the sensation slowly went away and her breathing was back to normal. Then, she cries, collapsing into him. He pulls her into an embrace, holding her tight as she cried into his chest, letting it all.

“What did she do? Cause this is not normal for you to be crying over and I’m getting very worried.”

She looks up, wiping her tears as she sniffles.

“She said….I’m using you because I have nothing to….to go back to once “this” is done.” she said in weak voice.

“Oh, baby…..” he mumbles, cuddling her.

“I know it’s not true and it’s stupid to throw a fit about…but, my god, it stings! People are so cruel and for what?!”

“It’s just a rough time for them. Just give them some space and they will be apologizing.”

“Fuck their apology.”

“You don’t have to accept it. I’m not gonna force you.”

Valerie lays against his chest, trancing her left hand over his chest before looking at him again.

“How are you so calm about this?” she asks, slightly sniffling.

“I’m used to it.” he shrugs. “If I break, they’re gonna use that as an advantage to do it again and I don’t want. Which is what you need to adapt. Don’t let what Junior and Hen get under your skin more than it should or else, you’re going to be stuck in an endless cycle with it. Ok?”

She nods. He smiles at her before kissing her nose, carefully helping her up and walking back over to the couch, sitting the both of them down.

“Please eat. I don’t want you going to sleep on an empty stomach.” he says, sliding her plate over a bit with her drink.

She smiles a bit before picking up her burger and biting into it. She moans as it still tasted very warm, even after her outburst a few moments ago.

“We have one more night and this will all be over for you.” he says as he picks up her book and places it on the table. He watches her eat as he peered into the window behind him, slightly locking eyes with Junior for a few minutes before he broke them and looked at Hen, who was drinking.

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Valerie is sleeping in the bed with Terrance, constantly moving around as she’s having a nightmare about being separated from him after OuterMore found he violated the policy by sleeping with a subject.

As she’s being held down to the ground by guards while Terrance attempts to get to her while being handcuffed and screaming her name, a man walks up with a needle in his hand. Just as he kneels down in front of her, he begs the man to leave her alone, just take me only. The man ignores, raising the needle high up, and as he is about to inject her..

She wakes up, breathing shakily. Doing the motion he showed her early, she relaxes, with each exhale bringing her back to normal. She looks over at him, who was peacefully knocked out, his light snores filling the quietness of the room.

Feeling very dry in her throat, she quietly gets up and puts on her robe before opening the door carefully and slowly walks down the stairs, not wanting to wake anyone up.

She looks both ways before walking into the kitchen, noticing no one’s around. Opening the cabinet door carefully, she takes out a tall glass before walking to the fridge. Opening the door, she grab the pitcher of water and carefully pours it in her glass, filling it until it’s enough. She takes a sip, releasing a quiet moan as the coolness and wetness hit the back of her throat.

As she turns to walk back up to her room, she hears a sound from the living room. She peers in, looking to see if anything catches her eye. “Nothing.” she said in her mind, turning back to the stairs.

“Fuck.” moaned a familiar voice, very quietly.

Looking back in the room, she scans the room once more before landing her eyes on something bewildering that she gasped.

In the one of the living room chairs laid Junior, whose eyes were closed, but his hands? Stroking himself as the moon shined on him. Recreating a scene Valerie saw weeks earlier where he was stroking himself as he watched her and Terrance make love. As much as she was slowly getting aroused by this, guilt filled her mind quickly and she had to do something or it will be very awkward if Hen or Terrance woke up and saw this.

“Junior?” she said, loud enough but not too loud that it wakes everyone up.

Junior opens his eyes, looks at Valerie, and immediately stands up quickly to pulls his shorts up, trying to make this situation less awkward, but failed. He chuckles shyly, not trying to look at her.

“Whatever you saw me doing……you didn’t see.” he says.

Valerie chuckles before walks up the stairs to her room, quietly closing the door, leaving Junior feeling embarrassed.

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A few hours later, Valerie wakes up again. This time, the sun is beaming into the room. She blinks slowly, running her eyes before letting out a big yawn. She touches behind her to see if Terrance was still in bed, only for cold emptiness to hit her hand. She frowns, hoping he was still in bed.

Rising up, she grabs a washcloth and bath towel before walking to the bathroom to shower. After rinsing her body and wrapping it in the towel, she heads back to their room, taking out a long, cream colored, leg slit crochet dress that had an off-the-shoulder top that she made when they were first starting to see each other. After oiling her body, putting sunscreen on, placing her curls in a half up-half down hairdo, and grabbing her crochet bag, she heads down the stairs to sit on the porch and make something.

Just as she’s about to pass the kitchen, a cinnamon sugar scent hits her nose. She walks in, where she sees Terrance chopping onions as Hen was stuffing the turkey with vegetables. She clears her, causing the both of them turn and look at her.

“Oh! Good morning—well, afternoon, Valerie. We didn’t hear you walk in.” he said, walking up to kiss her. “No issues with anything?”

Valerie shakes her head ‘no’ before kissing him, watching him walk back to his position as she looks at the uncooked food spread out across the kitchen.

“Assuming you two are making dinner?” she asks.

“Yeah. Just a simple roasted turkey, mac and cheese, collard greens, rice, mashed potatoes, and cornbread.” said Hen, not looking at her.

“Huh. You may be miserable but you got exquisite taste in food. I’ll give you that.” said Valerie, very amused at the menu.

“Valerie.” said Terrance, eyeing her with a “please drop it” look as Hen scoffs loudly.

“Well. Ima go sit on the porch and crochet a new piece while y’all cook. Its suppose to be very hot, so I thought it would be a perfect weather to sit out and do something.” she said as she turned to leave.

“You’re not gonna eat? I made you some pancakes, scrambled eggs, and some turkey scrapple since we don’t eat pork.” he said as he opened the oven and took out the plate, handing it to her.

“Oh. I didn’t think y’all saved me anything since I woke up late.” she said, gently taking the plate out of his hands.

“No? I always make sure you eat, even if you’re last. Did you want water or OJ?” he asks as he places a fork and knife on the plate.

“I’ll do a water.”

“Hen, do you mine pouring her a glass?”

“No worries.” she replies, taking out a cup before heading to grabbed the pitcher.

“Hothead not up?” Valerie whispers, making sure Hen doesn’t her farm.

“Working on the farm. He seemed a little off today.” Terrance replies in a whisper tone.

“Technically, he is…that.”

“Yeah, but…..he was being nice? He’s not usually like that.”

“Hm.”

Hen walks over to hand her the glass of water, but Terrance takes it from her.

“I’ll carry this for her. Thank you though.”

Hen nods before walking back to the turkey. Terrance walks to the front door and opens it, with Valerie walking out and over to the couch, placing the plate on the table before sitting down and placing the crochet bag next to her. Terrance hands her the water and kisses her forehead before walking back in.

After finishing her breakfast, she began crocheting her new piece: a sun shaped cone bra with a cloud hanging between. Using the colors, yellow, white, and orange to create a three colored pattern, she begins her piece, moving at a modern pace so she doesn’t mess up.

As she’s doing that, she looks up and sees Junior doing work on the farm. From sweeping up the hay to moving wood logs around, he seemingly focused a lot on cleaning, amusing Valerie a lot. After finishing up, he sees her sitting on the porch, working on her piece.

Cautiously, he walks over, taking a seat on the edge of the porch floor, his back facing her. She doesn’t notice him sitting there until he clears his throat and she looks up.

“Hello, Junior.” she says.

“Good afternoon to you as well.” he replies.

“I see you were working hard out there.”

“Oh really?”

“Mmhm. Seems exhausting trying to keep something clean just for it to get messy by the next day.”

“Yeah. That’s farm life for you.” he says, letting out a stifled chuckle.

She nods, looking down to resume crocheting her bra. There’s an awkward silence between the two for a few moments before Junior turns to face her.

“I wanted to apologize for not only last night, but my behavior towards you yesterday.”

She looks at him, moving her hook and bra to the side.

“I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did since you are only his wife that travels with him on these…..assignments as he calls them. We were talking yesterday as we drove into town and he was explaining everything about you and….I realize you are adored a lot by him. He’s mentioned you a few times since being here, but I never seen him talk about you in a captivating way that it slowly made me think that….maybe I do need to listen to things Hen wants and not put my needs above hers. And maybe this trip to space will save us in the end because I could come back a better husband and caretaker for her instead of fearing of losing her permanently. But, I do apologize and hope you can accept it.” he says, giving her a genuine look

Impressed by this apology from him, she smiles as she thinks of a response. But, the growing guilt of knowing that less than 72 hours from now, the real Junior will be home to rightfully take back his spot, settles in. She feels bad that she can’t tell him, but having the nightmare of being taken away keeps that reminder in tact.

“And, I should check my surroundings before I start pleasuring myself.” he adds, making the both of them laugh.

“Well…..I do accept your apology as it seems very genuine. But, if you’re thinking about taking what Hen wants seriously, you need to do it now before it’s too late. Life’s too short to be distant with each other all the time.”

“Thank you, Val.”

“No problem.”

He gets up and walks to the door. But before he opens it, he looks at Val again.

“….what happen between you last night? You were very….explosive with the bitch part.” he asks.

“All I can say is my intelligence was insulted, which hurts my feelings. And I can careless if her ass gives an apology.” she said, sighing in the process.

“…..I’ll talk to her when she’s done prepping dinner with him. I don’t want your last night here being ruined by what happened yesterday. And I do wanna try that cake you made.”

Valerie laughs, making Junior smile before walking inside the house. Wow. What a change of heart, she thought, resuming work on her piece.

Hours go by and Valerie finishes the bra, which came out very nice and fitted perfectly for her chest. She walks in the house and lays on the couch, deciding to take a hour nap since dinner was currently baking in the oven as Terrance and Junior were upstairs, doing another session. And Hen was….well, Hen.

She was peacefully sleeping when she felt someone gently shaking her, making her open her eyes. As her eyes unblurred, she can tell person in front of her was Hen, now dressed in a red and brown pattern dress.

“Sorry for waking you up. Dinner’s ready and I was wondering if you can go get the men while I set up?” she said, walking back to kitchen.

“Yeah….I’ll get them.” said Valerie, letting out a stretch before getting up and walking upstairs.

She gently knocks on the door, patiently waiting for Terrance to greet her.

No response.

She knocks again, a little louder, thinking this will get his attention.

Once again, nothing.

“Terrance? Junior? Is everything okay in there?” she asks, putting her ear against the door to hear.

Nothing. No movement, no sound, just silence.

She grabs the doorknob, turns it, and hears an unlock sound, signaling it’s not locked. She pushes the door open and walks in.

“Hey, Hen wanted me to tell y’all that dinner is re…..”

Her voice trails off, in shocked at what she sees.

On the bed, against the wall opposite to the window, was Junior and Terrance, passively making out with and rubbing on each other. Junior looks up, sees her standing there, and breaks away, backing up in fear.

“Why did you sto….” Terrance asks, slowly turning his head to see what he’s looking at.

Startled by Valerie’s presence, he gets up slowly, placing his hands in front to calm her.

“Baby, its not what it looks lik—“

“Dinner is ready. She doesn’t want the food to get cold.” she blurted out with a forced smile on herself, holding back tears.

Afterwards, she storms out, slamming the door behind her. She leans against the hallway banister, silent crying. All of those happy memories of them begin playing in her head. From the day they met to their wedding day to romantic dates to making love…..all just coming in to wash over her broken heart.

Wiping her tears, she walks downstairs, heading to the dining room where Hen was placing the turkey in the middle with the rest of the food.

“They��.should be down…soon.” she said, clearing her throat as she sat down.

“…..you okay?” she asks, looking at her.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“I don’t know. You seen a little…..flustered?”

“I’m fine, Hen. Really….fine.”

Loud movement is heard before both men entered the room, cautiously pretending they didn’t get caught. Junior walks over to Hen and kisses her head as Terrance sits next to Valerie, gently brushing past her.

“Okay, so we should be ready. I’m just trying to figure out what am I forgetting.” said Hen.

“Drinks, plates, and utensils.” said Junior, looking at the table.

“Shit. I knew it was something important!”

“Come on. I’ll help you get it.” he said, pulling her into the kitchen, leaving Terrance and Valerie alone.

Silence fills the room as Valerie turns away, not wanting to see him.

“So…..when do you want to file to end this? After they approve you?” she asks with a cold tone in her voice.

“Don’t say that.” he replies, turning her seat to face him.

“What? You don’t like the sound of it? Being a divorcee? You don’t mind behaving like one.”

Terrance pulls her seat even closer, bringing down the distance between them. He leans forward, placing his hands on her thighs.

“You know….you’re acting the way she did when we butted heads. Distant. Insults. Not wanting to look at me. Sometimes slapping me if I said something wrong. But, I deserved it. Just like how I deserve you acting the way you are right now.”

“If this is your way of apologizing, you’re gonna have to try a lot harder.” she says, pushing his hands off.

“Which I am. You know I do. After everything we been through and yet, we’re still here.”

“For a reason I’m not gonna say cause I don’t want to hurt you. Hell, I don’t even want to hurt me!” she said, her voice beginning to crack.

Terrance leans back, sniffling a little as he hands her a napkin, with her taking it.

“I don’t know it’s because she never felt this whenever y’all were going through it or this is something else, but I just feel….not me. I don’t know if it’s because of what’s about to happen or I’m missing something that I want but can’t have…” she says, wiping her tears.

“Like what? Another person romantically? Being on your own?”

Valerie shakes her head, looking at him, who is now crying.

“….l can never be on my own. Or love someone else other than you, even if I tried. But I have no interest.”

“Then what do you think it is?”

“…..maybe it’s a memory I never seen that she wants me to unlock. Maybe I have to see something to get there.”

“I think I can help with that. I don’t know how, but I’ll try.”

“Do you think that’s enough?”

“I know it’s not. It just means I have to prove myself in order to earn your trust back.”

She looks away, wiping her face with the napkin as Terrance looks at her. She exhales, looking back at him.

“…..he was there.” she confessed.

“What?”

“The night we made love, when you asked if something was out there that I kept looking, it was him. Junior. He watched us.”

He lets out a surprise laugh, covering his mouth. He wipes his face as he looked to see if Hen and Junior were coming.

“What the hell……”

“And I liked it.”

“You’re telling me this now?”

“You kissed him. After telling me you had control over your urges. And I’m pretty sure that wasn’t the only time with the way you and him were going at it.”

He doesn’t respond, just nods. Confirming it. She rolls her eyes, not mad, just disappointed.

“….do you want him? Like in a romantic way?”

“No.”

“….me either.”

“But you want to fuck him.”

“……yes.”

“…….I’ll keep that in mind.” she replies, turning away from him.

He about to ask her what she meant when Hen and Junior walked back in with the missing items, placing them on the table.

“Sorry for the wait. We were debating which ones to bring out!” said Hen, putting plates in front of them.

“That’s fine. We’re just having a conversation.” said Terrance, fixing himself.

“Oh, is everything okay?” asked Junior, with a concerned look on his face.

Terrance and Hen look at Valerie, who feels the pressure building.

“Yeah, Junior. Everything is fine.” she replies, smiling at him.

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A/N II: trouble in paradise? or is the paradise about to cause some steamy trouble in the bedroom? A little long, but I liked it! Part 3 should be out some time next week, but have a good night/day everyone 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

Taglist: @urfavblackbimbo @blyffe @literallegendicon

[ko-existing]

https://www.tumblr.com/ko-existing/766133693448372224/httpswwwtumblrcomko-existing7661320713789440?source=share

Ko, please, how do I stop being so desire driven? I’m not asking this as a lesson, but more like a genuine advice from person to person. I’m 100% this is what keeps me from truly seeing the bigger picture.

I tried many times to just let go and not care about outcomes or read the lessons thinking “yeah, this will make me get the things”, but I can’t. Even if I try to convince myself there’s something deep down saying I clearly still only care about the outcomes. It’s tiring not only because it keeps me walking in circles, but also because I experience episodes of pure joy cause “yes, I can get it, it’s easy” and then ones of pure depression thinking “this is bullshit, you’re understanding it all wrong and won’t get anything, deal with it. You’ll never get anything.” It’s always the extremes, you know? 08 or 80.

I tried to simply step back of everything and just move on with the knowledge I’ve got to see if my mind and thought process unfolds naturally and I stop feeling this incessant seeking for finally KNOWING true self instead of seeing as a belief, but I always end up falling on that depression phase and constant need for reassurance that “yes, you’ll get it”, but as you know, it never leads me to nowhere when I’m constantly reading, and asking, and seeking.

You say “step back and ponder” and say that when we encounter the silence it should be enough, but for me somehow is not and it frustrates me because logically should be enough, I mean, I’m literally being left with the nothingness, what else could I possibly need to understand, right?

I just wanna stop feeling limited, trapped and suffering and most importantly, I want to stop being the cause of all of this suffering. But I placed my desires as the ultimate happiness and this constant feeling of separation never goes away. Why is so simply to read and understand “everything is formless”, but when actually “practicing” and applying seems so absurd? God, I’ve been this way this whole year and I’m so sick of it.

To answer genuinely—you're thinking too much.

If you’re feeling caught in this cycle of extreme highs and lows, it might help to try sitting with your thoughts in a more observing way, which can give you a clearer view of what’s driving the whole process. And no, IT IS NOT A NECESSITY. It's a help to watch without getting lost in thoughts but it is NOT A MUST.

I've been on tumblr long enough to know what to expect from other anons reading this like "i thought meditation is not nevessary". No one is saying throw on an orange robe, head off to the himalayan mountains to sit on a rock in a cave, drink Bo cha, chew on Chülen, start fasting and chant " ཨོཾ་མ་ཎི་པདྨེ་ཧཱུྃ" (om mani padme hum) around the clock like it's your monastic lifestyle job.

So, again, I'm not saying this is a necessity or a “must-do”. Meditating, or simply Noticing, can help you see your thoughts without getting so wrapped up in each one—nothing more. There are different options like listening to a guided one or just background music/sounds like rain. I personally like it. So, If it helps, it helps. If it doesn't, see what does.

I've also been on Tumblr long enough to know how quickly people start labeling everything as a “method” or a requirement, so just to be clear again: I’m not saying any of that!

The main thing here is to relax this intense drive for outcomes. You can actually start looking at these desire-driven thoughts as just “passing content”—and yes, this practice can help. When a thought like “I need this outcome to be happy” pops up, instead of believing it automatically, you could take a step back and notice that it’s just a thought arising out of nowhere and passing into nowhere. Watching thoughts like this reminds you they don’t define you and have no reality to them.

Also, see if you can bring your attention back to what’s here without needing to grasp, judge, or chase. Every time you relax that urge for outcome, you’re giving yourself a chance to rest in something that isn’t tied to outcomes at all. " ".

Experience what’s beyond the cycle of “wanting” and “fearing.” Keep it simple, remember it’s a gentle, easy redirection rather than some heavy practice. Never force anything. If you don't want to do it, don't. And never overconsume.

[yanderelionwrites]

I'll Stay Here - Yandere!Leona x Reader

Content Warning: (soft) yandere, implied kidnapping/captivity, I fear the Stockholm Syndrome has ARRIVED

Word Count: 607

(Again, kind of a part 3 to this, but can be read on its own)

You really need to stop forgetting your things in Leona’s room. Luckily, he doesn’t mind you coming and going, but it’s still a pain to have to walk all through the palace to get there.

You’ve been keeping him company as of late, just sitting in his room while he naps or plays chess, meaning you like to bring your own stuff over to entertain yourself. Today, you left behind a book you were reading earlier, so you thought you would pop by really quick and take it back. Even though it was late in the evening, Leona would most likely be taking a nap right now, so he wouldn’t even bother with trying to engage with you.

Poking your head into his room, you confirm that he’s asleep before tip-toeing over to the table you left your book at. You grab it and turn to sneak back out, but you stop yourself when you glance at Leona’s face.

His expression appears so…soft. Free of the stresses his family, the servants, or even you sometimes cause him. He looks the most at peace he’s ever been…

It makes your heart swell, which is very alarming because you’re supposed to hate this man. And yet, despite it all, you still find yourself drawing nearer to him. Just to get a better look.

Leona sleeps soundlessly on his stomach, with his arms hugging the pillow his head is buried in. You can’t help but smile at the way his ear twitches; he looks like a napping kitty. It’s such a stark contrast to how he acts when he’s awake.

This is so frustrating… One minute you feel like you wish you never met Leona, and other times, you’re thinking it’s not so bad staying here with him. You have everything you need, and anything you want (other than freedom) can be given to you when asked. And Leona himself isn’t awful to be with… He makes sure you’re taken care of and remains respectful around you.

But do you love him enough to want to stay?

…You don’t want to admit you don’t hate him anymore.

Inching ever so closer to his sleeping body, you tentatively reach out to brush a strand of hair out of his face.

You shouldn’t…

Hesitantly, you lean down so that your face is hovering right over the crown of Leona’s head. You place the quickest and gentlest kiss on top of his hair, before immediately withdrawing from him. Trying to leave like you were never there, you turn towards the exit, but jump when a hand grabs your wrist.

A small yelp escapes your lips as you’re pulled backward onto Leona’s bed. Arms wrap around your waist, not too tight but firm enough to let you know that you won’t be leaving anytime soon.

“L-Leona?!” is all you can stutter out, hands uselessly pushing at his arms.

“Just stay here…please,” he utters into your ear, voice husky and surprisingly pleading.

“...Only for a few minutes,” you relent, letting him pull you against his chest.

A few minutes is all Leona needs. He’ll take what he can get.

He feels you relax next to him, and he couldn’t be more content. This was only a small step towards the future he envisions for you both, but it was still important progress. Leona bets you don’t even know how much he’s been holding back, how much of his feelings he’s repressed to make sure you’re comfortable here first. But with this small gesture, you’ve opened the doors to so much more.

You’ve walked into the lion’s enclosure, and there’s no getting out of it now.

~~~

Probably the last part to this little series. I've been cooking up something Savanaclaw related though, so stay tuned for that 👀

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

[sitkowski]

maybe i'll burn a little brighter tonight ( jolly karlsson x nick folio )

pairing: nick folio x jolly karlsson cw: 18+ MDNI ⚠️ soft boys in love, size kink, spitting, handjobs, a hint of exhibitionsim, semi-public sex, praise kink, brief daddy kink mention, anal fingering, anal sex, bottom jolly. word count: 3.8k author's notes: slowly working my way through a list of riptide verse fics to be written since i barely have cell or wifi service where i'm staying. a lot of offline writing time, when i have it. it's time for some bottom jolly content, yeah? title comes from "miss missing you" by fall out boy. divider by @saradika-graphics 🩷

⇉ masterpost || taglist signups || riptide verse masterpost

Nick is of the belief that he can read his boyfriend like a book. Like a well loved book, or the manual to his motorcycle. He’s become an expert. He knows Jolly inside and out, can tell when he’s happy or sad, he knows when he gets that little furrow between his brow that something is on his mind. He knows every secret and insecurity and kink that the man has. Nick knows that Jolly wants something from him, but he doesn’t know how to ask for it. And the thing is, he’d happily cut out a kidney and hand it over if he asked. Not the healthiest analogy, but still an accurate one.

Because he’s so well versed in being able to read Jolly so well, he knows that this can go one of two ways; he could push him to tell him what he wants and it could backfire horribly. Or he could wait him out until he’s ready to ask for it. And Nick’s got all the time in the world for Jolly. This isn’t something that’s affecting their relationship negatively. But there are times when Nick will catch Jolly out of the corner of his eye, watching him, and he knows that he wants to ask for it. He can see the question forming on his tongue before he ultimately swallows it back and says something else instead.

It’s something sexual, Nick’s gathered that much. There’s nothing innocent about the way that Jolly looks at Nick most of the time as it is. He can’t help but wonder if he looked at him like that before they even got together, and he just never realized. Like now, when they’re sitting in a room full of their friends for one of their dinner and movie nights, and he tilts his head just enough to see Jolly’s eyes on him. Nick puts his chin on his hand, leaning on the counter and only half listening to whatever story Noah is telling. Jolly’s on the opposite side of the counter, and he reaches across to pick up Nick’s beer, taking a drink.

He’s got his own beer in front of him, but it’s as if he’s trying to see if he can get a taste of Nick from the one he’s holding now. Jolly’s eyes meet his over the top of the can.

Nick is absolutely not going to sneak off and fuck around with his boyfriend while they have a kitchen full of people. He’s not.

“Where are the matches for the fire pit?” Matt asks.

“In the garage, I’ll get them,” Nick offers, too quickly.

If anyone notices how eager he is to get out of the room, no one calls him out on it. Doesn’t mean they won’t gossip about it once he’s gone though. He slips out the side door into the garage and grabs the box of matches that are on the shelf where they keep all the stuff for the grill. Nick hesitates to go back inside. It’s predictable when Jolly comes out the garage door a few minutes later. He doesn’t even bother to close the door all the way, so it obviously doesn’t matter whether or not anyone knows what they’re out here doing.

Jolly plants a hand in the middle of his chest and pushes him back until he’s pressed up against the side of Nick’s workbench.

“Hi, did you want something?”

“Find the matches?”

Confused, Nick nods and holds up the box, only for Jolly to take them out of his hand and place them up on a shelf above them. Specifically out of Nick’s reach. He starts to ask what the point of that was but then Jolly’s kissing him. His hands slid down over Nick’s waist, pressing him more firmly against the bench. Humming against his mouth, Nick loops his arms around Jolly’s shoulders. He breathes against him, letting Jolly lick into his mouth. He forgets where they are, that they aren't really alone even if they are out here just the two of them. Jolly breaks the kiss slowly and Nick blinks up at him.

"Is this what you lured me out here for?" Jolly asks.

Nick lets out an incredulous laugh, "Me? I just came out here for the matches. You're the one who followed me, daddy—”

His words are cut off when Jolly’s hand slides down over the front of his shorts, where he’s already half hard. Nick moans, helplessly loud, hips bucking into his hand. It wasn’t fair, how easy he could rile him up. He opens his mouth to tell him just that, but then Jolly’s clamping his other hand down over his mouth and shoving his fingers beneath his waistband.

“Gotta be quiet, pretty,” he murmurs as he strokes him and Nick’s eyes go impossibly wide. He can feel Jolly’s rings pressing into his cheek, the bite of them making him harder. “Get these down a little for me.”

Nick manages to shuffle his shorts and boxers down around his thighs, and then Jolly pulls back enough to let saliva drip from his mouth down to his hand and Nick’s cock. The muffled noise that Nick lets out isn’t all that muffled. Jolly's hand is slick now, sliding tight and easily up and down Nick's length, and he exhales loudly through his nose. He isn't going to last long, but he's pretty sure that's the entire point. Jolly's eyes never leave his, calm as ever, while Nick is breathing hard, desperate noises barely disguised by the hand over his mouth.

"You're looking at me like you never want me to stop," Jolly says quietly and Nick nods. His eyes flit from his face to the door and then back again, and he sees the mischievous gleam there right before Jolly pulls his hand away.

"You fucking menace," Nick gasps out. He's hot all over, practically vibrating with how good Jolly's touch feels. "Joakim, fuck, I'm..."

"I got you pretty. Just keep your eyes on mine."

Nick pants roughly, and he's got to force his eyes to stay open, stay on Jolly's. He wants nothing more than to bury his face in the front of Jolly’s shirt, sink his teeth into his flesh through the fabric. His hands fist tighter on Jolly’s sides and he rocks his hips into his hold on him. Nick thinks he might so down now or tease him, it wouldn’t be the first time. But if anything, he jerks him faster, and Nick’s not so quiet cries echo through the garage.

When he comes in Jolly’s hand, the only thing in Nick’s mind is how Jolly’s looking at him. He managed to never look away. Reaching around him, Jolly grabs a rag of the bench that isn’t likely clean to begin with the wipe off his hand before he tugs Nick’s clothes back into place for him. Nick slumps back against the bench, staring up at him and trying to catch his breath.

“So, those matches?” he asks finally.

Jolly grins and pulls the box back down, pressing it into Nick’s palm before he gives him a soft kiss and turns to go back into the house. Raking his hand through his hair, Nick realizes he’s got to do the walk of shame now, only he isn’t ashamed of anything. 

He also realizes there’s a third option to how this is going to go. Jolly is obviously going to drive him insane until he is the one begging to know what he wants from him, because that was just a normal thing for them. 

There might be a small part of Jolly that’s scared to ask for what he wants. Not that he thinks it’s bad or that Nick will hurt him. He trusts Nick more than he ever has anyone else, that’s not the problem. There probably isn’t even a problem, and the whole thing is all in his head. But he and Nick, they’re comfortable where they are in their relationship, and with the dynamic of their relationship. And Jolly likes the way things are, loves them even. It’s not so much wanting to change things as it’s wanting one particular thing he’s never had before.

It’s on a constant loop in his mind, and the whole thing with Noah for his birthday didn’t help the situation at all. He sees Nick watching him sometimes, like he knows that he wants to ask for something but can’t find the words to do so yet. And he’s so fucking patient with him, it makes Jolly love him all the more. He just doesn’t get how he can sort out chord progressions in his sleep but he’s absolutely mute when all he wants to do is ask his boyfriend to fuck him.

He works up the nerve over the weekend, after that afternoon in the garage he’d decided that he was just going to go for it. That’s where he finds Nick, elbow deep in working on his bike. He’s got the radio on, but not loud enough that Jolly can’t hear every crank of his ratchet as he disassembles parts for cleaning. This is a thing he does and Jolly is absolutely enamored watching him from the doorway. If Nick realizes that he’s being watched, he doesn’t say anything at first. He’s got on one of his old shirts with the sleeves cut off, the holes torn down so far that the waistband of his jeans is visible, and Jolly just stares.

There’s a smudge of grease on Nick’s cheek, and some on his hands, his arms glistening with sweat. It’s still one of the warmer days before Fall sets in, and even Jolly feels a little overheated, but that could just be because of the view. He’s reminded of all of those times watching Nick on stage, the way his muscles shifted beneath his skin as he played. He’d probably been looking at him longer than he should have. And finally, Nick looks up, a few locks of his hair hanging in his eyes. He sees Jolly watching, and he smirks.

“Hiya handsome,” he straightens up, shaking his head to get his hair out of his face. “Something I can help you with?”

Nick knows. Of course he does. He may not know the specifics of what Jolly wants, but he knows that this is the moment that he’s going to ask for it. Whatever expression might be on Jolly’s face right now, it makes Nick move, turn off the radio and grab something to clean up his hands with, much to Jolly’s dismay.

“If you’re still busy, we can talk about it later—”

“I’ve always got time for you, the bike can wait.”

He won’t push, but it’s obvious that he wants Jolly to tell him. “I was thinking about that day at Noah’s?”

“Oh,” the way Nick’s face falls a little makes Jolly realize that he’s getting the wrong idea right off the bat. “So what, you wanna try adding someone else in again?”

“No!”

That isn’t what this is about at all. That was a one time thing for Noah’s birthday, and while he had absolutely no problem with it, if it hadn't been Nicholas and Noah, he wouldn’t have shared Nick. He gets that possessive streak that Nick’s got.

“Okay so you’ve gotta clue me in here, honey, cause I’m a little confused now.” Nick says.

Jolly moves closer to where Nick is standing, he hadn’t realized that he was so far away. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Oh,” the word escapes Nick on a sigh and Jolly doesn’t miss the way that he looks a little relieved. “Yeah, Joll. I can absolutely do that.” 

It’s not as if he expected him to say no. But it also seems like this wasn’t what he was expecting Jolly to ask him for. A pleased look crosses his face, and he steps closer to Jolly until they’re practically touching. Jolly reaches up to wipe away that smudge of grease off of Nick’s cheek.

“Believe me, there’s nothing more I’d rather do at this moment than bend you right over my bike,” Nick says.

Jolly can picture it in his head vividly enough that he inhales sharply. He can see the way that Nick would press him down over the seat, both of them still mostly dressed, strong hands stained with grease grabbing onto his hips as he moved inside of him slow enough to make sure that the bike stayed in place, slow enough that Jolly feels it—

“—but have you ever bottomed before?” He doesn’t realize that Nick is still talking, and he glances from him to the bike and back again before shaking his head. “Then our bed it is. As tempting as the bike might be.”

Another time, Jolly thinks.

He always feels like a magnet being pulled in Nick’s direction, and he wraps a hand around the back of his neck to kiss him. It’s not to thank him, but it almost feels like it. Nick, in turn, puts his hands on Jolly’s hips and starts moving him backwards towards the stairs. They stumble into the house, halfway through the kitchen before Jolly finally turns away and starts walking on his own down the hall to their bedroom. He can feel Nick right behind him, and once he’s in their room he turns around to face him.

“Just let me shower real quick, I’m filthy—”

“Don’t,” Jolly says, pulling him closer.

Nick grins, letting himself be pulled. His skin is still warm to the touch and Jolly wraps his arms around him through the holes in his shirt, sliding his hands up his damp back. Nick murmurs his approval against Jolly’s lips, pushing up into the kiss. His hands dip down into the back pockets of his jeans, tugging Jolly even closer. He can feel how hard Nick is already and it makes him let out a needy noise against his mouth. Finally, Nick tugs himself away, stripping out of his shirt.

The move spurs Jolly into action, and he starts taking off his own clothes. They manage to get naked in record time, and then Nick’s planting a hand in the middle of Jolly’s chest and pushing him down on the bed. He crawls on top of him, and the second they’re skin to skin, cocks sliding together, Jolly can't really think. Not when Nick nips at his chest, rocking their hips together. Jolly's breath hitches on a whine and Nick sighs, kissing his way up his chest and neck, over his jaw to his lips.

"I'll never, ever get enough of that sound," he says and Jolly's eyes flutter closed. “You’re gonna make such pretty sounds for me, aren’t you honey? You’ll be so good for me”

The role reversal makes Jolly dizzy with want. “Yeah Nicky, come on…” 

He nips at Jolly’s throat, rakes his fingers over his hip, trying to get them closer. Nick leans over the bed to get the lube and Jolly relaxes back into the mattress, watching avidly as he leans back on his knees and urges Jolly’s thighs wider. He slicks his fingers, his eyes never leaving Jolly's. And Jolly's expecting it, is watching, but a gasp still falls from his mouth when Nick presses his fingers inside. The corner of Nick's mouth tilts up, and Jolly's suddenly thinking of all the times he's teased him or dragged things out unnecessarily just to make him squirm. He welcomes the payback. The look on Nick's face is predatory and sly as he slowly twists his fingers, his other hand bracing on the middle of Jolly's chest as if he needs to keep him down.

Jolly doesn’t know where to touch him, he’s not used to feeling this consumed, not used to all of the attention being on him like this. And because Nick is currently staring down into his soul while he moves his fingers at an almost leisurely pace inside of him, he can see that he’s feeling a little overwhelmed. The hand on Jolly’s chest slides up to wrap around the side of his neck, thumb smoothing over the edge of his jaw.

“What do you need, Joakim?”

“I need you closer,” it comes out as more of a plea than anything and Nick immediately leans in to press his forehead to Jolly’s, nose nudging along his before he kisses him. His fingers finally seek out that spot inside of him, and Jolly gasps against his mouth. “I’m ready. Nick, please, I’m ready.”

He’s heard Nick tell him the same thing, but he never believed him. He always made sure, drew it out and left him a begging, whimpering mess. And now, Nick is doing the same thing to him. He presses light kisses against Jolly’s neck, curling his fingers ruthlessly for a few more minutes. Jolly clings to him, finally touching. He slides his hands into Nick’s hair, keeps him as close as he can. He pulls, not gently, until Nick finally lifts his head and looks him in the eyes.

“I promise, pretty. I’m ready.”

Nick nods, slowly removing himself from Jolly’s grasp. He’s even slower to take his fingers out, and Jolly feels empty. He paws at his thighs impatiently, leaning up enough to be able to watch as Nick grabs the bottle of lube again.

“You wanna stay like this?” he asks, voice hitching a little as he slicks himself up. All Jolly can do is stare as he drags his hand up and down his cock.

He nods, swallowing down something he can’t really describe. “Yeah, I wanna see your face.”

When Nick slides into him, it’s with a practiced patience that Jolly rarely sees but it makes his entire body light up. He grabs onto him, gets him closer again until their chests are pressed together and he can feel Nick’s labored breaths against his mouth. He lifts up, just enough to kiss him. And that seems to be all that Nick needs before he’s pulling back and rocking back in, hot and sharp. Jolly’s muffled moans begin to grow in frequency, and he locks his legs around Nick’s hips. 

“You feel so fucking good, Joll,” Nick whispers, forehead pressing into the crook of Jolly’s neck. “Is it good?”

“Yeah, Nicky, it’s good. Keep going. Harder, you’re not gonna break me…”

Nick takes him at his word, leaning back to grab onto his hips, fingers digging in and he does what Jolly wants and fucks him harder. Not faster though, keeping a slow, steady pace that has Jolly trying to find some sort of leverage and failing. Eventually, he grabs onto Nick’s wrists, because he can’t not touch him right now. It’s almost like it takes Nick a minute to realize that he’s touching him, and then he turns one of his hands to lace his fingers through Jolly’s.

He doesn’t think of touching himself, honestly the thought is secondary to watching the man above him. He’s had Nick above him before, but never like this, and he’s desperate for it to never stop. He clenches around him, tries to move with him. But Nick’s still got him pinned, both with his touch and his gaze. It takes Jolly a minute to realize that he’s speaking, broken pleas falling from his mouth as he tries to get Nick closer again. 

Nick gives in, because he’s not going to deny Jolly anything. He gets his hands free, bracing them on either side of him as he thrusts deep and slow. Jolly lets out an impatient noise but Nick just laughs, hair hanging down in his eyes as his lips brush over Jolly’s, down his cheek, to his ear.

“You’re mine,” he whispers, and Jolly’s nodding before he even finishes speaking. “Every fucking part of you, Joakim, it’s mine.”

Jolly can’t speak, he can’t breathe. All he can do is nod and cling to him. If he were to hold on to him any tighter, he thinks they could become one person. It’s almost a surprise when Nick gets a hand between them, wrapping it around Jolly’s cock.

“Come for me, honey, show me you’re mine.”

It’s as if his words pull the orgasm right out of Jolly. His entire body goes tense and he snaps, gasping for air as he comes between them. Nick praises him quietly, only letting go when Jolly goes lax against the mattress beneath him. And Jolly feels the moment Nick gives in and falls over that edge, the way he wraps himself around Jolly and thrusts through his own orgasm, face buried in Jolly’s shoulder.

Eventually, Nick finds the energy to move back, easing out of him slowly. Jolly’s breath hitches and his eyes open to find Nick staring down between them, his mouth open a little in surprise. Jolly realizes that he’s watching his come leak out of him. He pushes himself up, kissing Nick.

“Thank you,” Nick murmurs against his mouth, and Jolly pulls back. “Thank you for trusting me with this.”

Jolly’s shoulder hitches up in a shrug, “Thanks for being patient with me? I was always gonna ask for it, I just didn’t know how to do it exactly.”

“I think you did just fine asking the way you did, Joll. I wouldn’t have said no anyway.”

Jolly knows. He kisses him again, and Nick smiles before pulling himself out of his grasp. Jolly watches him go into the bathroom and come back a few moments later with a damp washcloth. He’s used to this part, only he’s used to being the one doing it. Caring for Nick after, it’s become second nature to him. He sees the look of absolute concentration on Nick’s face as he cleans him up. Once he’s done, he all but flops down on top of Jolly.

“Can I ask you something without it sounding incredibly stupid?” Nick waits for Jolly’s nod, propping his chin up on his chest. “Why have you never…done this before?”

It’s not a dumb question, but Jolly still thinks about how he wants to answer it. Nick wasn’t the first guy he’d slept with. “There were always certain…expectations, with the guys I dated in the past—”

“What, like the expectation to be the top? That’s dumb.”

Jolly laughs a little, running a hand through Nick’s hair. “You didn’t expect me to fuck you the first time we slept together?”

“Hey, in my defense, I’ve wanted that since I was nineteen and—” Jolly cuts his words off, pulling him up for a kiss, because he can’t just say things like that and expect him not to. Muffled laughter tickles his mouth and Nick pushes him away, giddy and smiling. “As I was saying, you could have asked at any time. Expectations are dumb and I’m happy to—”

“Bend me right over your bike?” Jolly finishes, amused.

Nick actually blushes. It’s cute. “Yeah, well…I said what I said.”

⇉ taglist

@ladyveronikawrites @circle-with-me @deathblacksmoke @dominuslunae

@rumoured-whispers @cookiesupplier @kinseysucks @collapsedglasshouses

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@collidewiththesavannah @sorrowsofsilence @fadingangelwisp

if you ’d like to be added to the taglist, you can find the form at the top of this fic! thanks for reading/reblogging 🩷