#but then. i tripped and dropped one of my shoes. so i had to double back and grab it before the gate closed on me so b s

[deus-ex-mona]

the ✨fickleness✨ of the heart

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 4: market day

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Reblog if you liked it!

You've heard a lot of people say that the honeymoon period only lasts the first few weeks of marriage and that after that things can start to get complicated. But the rule didn’t seem to apply to you.

Maybe it was because you two were young and enthusiastic, because you were too busy missing him to think about arguing, or maybe it was just that you really were made for each other.

You often tried to steal as much time as possible from your husband’s demanding job because being an FBI agent often took him away from you, and sometimes having a few domestic moments was all you both desired.

Grocery shopping was one of those activities that really made you feel like a married couple, and it saved you many trips to the store for food.

“Which do you prefer? Soy or almond milk?”

��Soy has phytoestrogens and more health benefits in moderate amounts. Almond is for people looking to maintain weight, and although it’s healthy, it’s low in protein.”

“Soy, got it,” you said with a small smile at his intellectual response.

Every time it was grocery shopping day, your job was always to push the cart and grab an item or two within reach, but most of the time, Spencer was the one in charge of selecting your groceries. After all, he had a pretty extensive knowledge of the benefits of each food. He always wanted to take care of you, and since he was often away, one way he could do that was by ensuring you were well-nourished.

“Look, I found some tea,” he announced happily, making you look away from the yogurt section in the fridge to pay attention. “Lavender, passionflower, valerian…”

“For your insomnia?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, dropping the boxes into the cart “And some mint and lemon for you.”

“You know me so well,” you smiled sweetly, leaning on the plastic handle, letting him gently caress your cheek.

You two had known each other for so many years that there were details about each other you knew by instinct. You knew his favorite brand of coffee, how he liked it with a specific number of sugar spoons, that you needed to buy him two sets of socks because he always liked mismatched ones, and you knew the exact spot on his head to stroke to help him fall back asleep after a nightmare. He knew you hated wearing shoes indoors, that you had a specific way of sleeping, and that you hated the smell of cinnamon. There were so many things you did as if they were second nature that it seemed impossible to list them all.

The truth is, people at Spencer’s work were quite surprised to find out that not only did he have a girlfriend, but that you were getting married. The event was private, very intimate, and not at all pretentious because that wasn’t your style.

You both had no problem moving into a new, slightly more spacious apartment, now that everything was doubled. But you were managing it quite well, to be honest.

You continued strolling through the grocery store, staying close to your husband, and then remembered you needed some bread. You pushed the cart over and stood next to a woman who seemed to be in a dilemma, staring at two loaves of bread as if trying to analyze which was better.

“The best one is that one,” you said, hoping not to make her uncomfortable. She looked at you confused, so you decided to speak again. “It has less sugar and the necessary carbs for good nutrition. There’s a study about it; it’s true.”

“Oh, sweetie, I wasn’t looking for the healthiest, just the one with the best quantity and price. It’s for my kids. Those children could eat an entire loaf in a day, and I can’t afford that.”

You laughed honestly and gave her a look of understanding. She was a bit older than you but not old enough to be considered elderly.

“I think you’re right.”

“I love my kids, but I won’t lie… sometimes they drive me crazy,” she confessed, and you both laughed again.

“Darling, do you want me to make pasta for you this week? Rossi taught me a recipe that…”

He trailed off when he noticed you had company, and for some reason, he suddenly felt shy.

“That’s fine, love. We can eat whatever you want,” you replied kindly. “I already have something to go with it.”

You winked at him when he noticed the wine you had tossed into the cart, and then he smiled and went off in search of the necessary ingredients.

“Your boyfriend?”

“Husband,” you corrected her. There was a strange pride in saying that.

“Husband! Oh, that’s so sweet. How long have you been married?”

“We’ll be married for four months next week.”

“Young love, so beautiful,” she sighed, as if nostalgic for a time that now seemed too far away. “And he helps you with the shopping?”

“I help him, actually,” you laughed. “He’s the one who selects everything. Before we got married, I had the worst eating habits, and he hated that. So we try to eat better now.”

“Marriages are so different now,” she said, and upon hearing that, you expected to endure a conservative speech and internally dreaded it. “My husband never joins me for things like this; he’s not even interested. In this and in much more, to be honest. And it’s nice to see that girls nowadays can have these kinds of relationships. You know, where they’re supported.”

Somehow, that touched your heart, and suddenly you wished you could hug the woman, but you held back. Then, you looked over at Spencer. He was in the vegetable section, apparently comparing two bags of spinach. You could recognize him in a crowd without a doubt, with his slouched posture, his messy hair (freshly cut, by the way), and his peculiar formal attire.

You had always appreciated having the man in your life, even when you didn’t have a romantic relationship, but you had never stopped to think how lucky you were that he had decided to love you.

“I’m glad too,” you said in what was barely a whisper.

You didn’t say anything else. The woman said her goodbyes kindly, and you just smiled at her, too busy gazing at the man with loving eyes. You stood there watching him, and when he approached, he couldn’t help but notice your strange expression.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing. I just had a very revealing conversation with that woman.”

“Huh, yeah?” he hummed, dropping a collection of items into the shopping cart “And what was it about?”

“About you,” you answered casually, lifting your hands to place them on his chest and then sliding them to his cheeks “Talking to her reminded me that you’re the best husband in the world.”

Carefully and affectionately, you stood on your tiptoes and planted a loud kiss on him. Spencer laughed as his cheeks blushed, returning the favor with a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“I don’t know if I am, but I try.”

“And that’s why I love you,” you confessed sweetly.

And then, it was Spencer who felt lucky.

[adventuringblind]

Biology Sucks

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Reader has really bad periods and is embarrassed about it. Oscar just wants to help.

Warnings: Really bad periods and everything that comes with them

Notes: To the requester, I feel you on the bad period thing. I hope this brings you the comfort you need to get through your next one!

Side Note: My inbox is open if you wanna come chat with me :)

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

It hurts. A familiar hurt, unfortunately, and she's not sure whether that's better or worse yet. Of all the things that could've happened on her date, it had to be this.

She excuses herself from the table. Oscar gives her a concerned look, but she waves it off. "Just need to freshen up." Oscar nods, but he doesn't look convinced.

Eight months, and he already knows how to read her like a book.

She ends up leaving her date early because she already knows how this ends. It'll look like she's gone to war and got stabbed lower than necessary. It also currently feels that way, and she's ready to throw up her guts if that's what it takes to make it stop.

Oscar texts her. Then he calls her. Eventually deciding she probably has fallen asleep if she wasn't feeling well and decides to do something for her in the morning.

The same event had happened last month, and she'd avoided him for the entire week. The brief topic of periods came up because he asked if that was it, and she'd told him they were considerably bad.

The benefit of having sisters is that he at least knows the basics here. He throws on some shoes in the early hours of the morning and heads out the door to the convenience store.

Oscar makes a guess from the information he's gleaned on what kinds of snacks she would like. He also throws a text to his mum to double-check because lord knows if he messes this up, she'll come for his head.

It's just past ten when he arrives at her flat and unlocks the door with the spare key. He questions if this could be considered breaking and entering since he technically didn't know the spare key would be hidden inside the bottom of a fake plant. Things to worry about later, he supposes.

He finds her sprawled out of the bed, a bottle of painkillers open on the side table. He drops his own bags on the grounds softly so he doesn't wake her.

Especially not when she's shivering in her sleep and he can see the sticky red coating the sheets. He determines to let her sleep until he has everything ready to clean her up. There is no point in letting her sit in it while awake for no reason.

He remembers specifically making trips to the store with his mum for bed sheets when his sisters had similar problems. He just wishes she felt comfortable telling him about it. Heaven help is was some bastard making her feel like this is gross and not some natural part of life.

He admits openly to punching one person in his lifetime. The boy who was picking on his sister for bleeding through her shorts while he was home for Christmas one year. He made the boys nose bleed and called him gross for it. Oscar tries not to think about what he would do now that he's bulked up.

He starts the bath, finds her extra clothes, including his own hoodie, and attempts to locate her spare sheets. He feels bad going through all her cupboards, but he doesn't want to wake her up to ask.

When everything is all set up, he sets himself down gently beside and caresses the side of her face until she wakes.

Initially, there is a look of terror on her face until she realizes it's just Oscar and not an intruder. "How'd you get in?"

"Your spare key wasn't hard to find."

She takes a breath to settle her heart. That's when she feels what's underneath her... and beside her... all around her, really. "I-" the tears are pathetic.

"It's okay, really! My sister's had some bad ones as did my mum. Can I touch you?"

The pit in her stomach ends up settling in confusion. She tilts her head. "You're not, like, disgusted?"

"It's biology, isn't it? Natural? I see no reason to be disgusted." It the certainty of which he says it that make the tears start.

Oscar coos at her, waiting until she's calmed down to set about getting her cleaned up. "I ran you a bath already. I figured you'd want it warm and bubbly."

She cries again. Not because she's upset - far from it - but nobody has ever done this for her. "I'm not sure what I did to deserve this."

"To be fair, I don't think you ask to bleed every month."

While she's in the bath, Oscar strips the bed down and recreates it how he thinks it should go. The key word here is thinks. His eye for aesthetics isn't the best, but he makes it work regardless.

Soon, she's out of the bath and in his hoodie. "Feeling any better?"

"A bit... thank you."

"Don't thank me yet, I'm not the best in the kitchen, so this might actually kill you instead."

She hesitate when he sits down on the couch and pats the spot beside him. "Aren't you worried I might bleed on you?"

"As far as I'm concerned, you could bleed on all my clothes and I'd happily purchase new ones if it means you'll come cuddle with me."

She relents and curls up in Oscar's lap. He turns on a movie and they both end up falling asleep to it.

Easy to say it's the best she's ever slept on her period. And when she wakes up to Oscar purchasing a new pair of sweats, he smiles at her. "I figure if it will help you stress less, I will get some extra clothes just in case." No hints of judgment or annoyance. Just Oscar trying to help.

Yeah, maybe periods don't have to be so miserable while he's around.

[yes-divine-ruler]

Mr Anderson - Kai Anderson

x fem!reader

cw: uni professor/student relationship (student is of age), oral (both receiving), smut, spanking w a belt

wc: 3.2k

You sat down eagerly at the front of the lecture hall, sliding your tote bag onto the desk. You take out your laptop and your folder of loose leaf paper, organising it in front of you. You were early five minutes, giving you the time to compose yourself before your professor arrived. It wasn’t like political philosophy was anything special. The information being relayed to you was dull, but the way it was being taught was what had your undivided attention.

Mr Anderson flew through the double doors of the lecture hall with a minute to spare. In a hurry, he paces over to his desk, tucking in the front of his button up shirt into his slacks. It was black today, like his pants and polished shoes. He wore a heavyweight coat that he shrugged off and rested on the backrest of his chair. Your breath catches in your throat just looking at him. Undeniably, Mr Anderson was the sexiest man you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d have him to thank for your perfect attendance and grades. He wasn’t only nice to look at, but he believed in you. He made everyone feel like they had the potential to succeed.

You take your pencil case out of your tote, and discard the bag by your feet. Your hands shook as you tried to unzip your pencil case. Mr Anderson always made you feel like a nervous wreck. It was mortifying, especially when he’d notice.

“Okay everyone, welcome back to political philosophy,” Mr Anderson gains the attention of the class. His sudden introduction startled you, and with fingers like butter, your pencil case slides off the end of your desk. Your pens sprawl across the carpet at the front of the hall.

Mr Anderson stops shortly, and let’s out a small laugh, approaching your desk. Your face heats up as you get a whiff of his intoxicating cologne. He even smelt godly.

“I’m sorry, Mr Anderson,” you apologise, getting up to collect your pens on your own. Mr Anderson was already one step ahead of you, and passed back your pens in a closed fist.

“You have to be more careful Y/N,” he teases, and all you can do is offer him a small, weary smile in response.

Mr Anderson continues on with his class. You pay close attention to everything he says, noting down what was important to remember. It doesn’t take long before you’re scribbling in the margins of your notebook and keeping a trained eye on the way his body moved. You didn’t think you were anything special. Not special enough for your professor to see you as anything more than what you were. He knew your name but, he barely treated you different to the other students.

You spent the rest of the lesson trying to conspire up ways to stand out to Mr Anderson. The semester was almost at an end, and with only a few weeks to go, you knew you had to act fast. It would be a heck of a summer if you could just get inside his head.

The following week you turned up to class dressed to impress. Mr Anderson was in early today, looking more organised and less flustered than last week. His hair was tied back into a man bun, accentuating his sharp, dark features.

“Y/N! Good to see you,” Mr Anderson doesn’t even look up at his desk to greet you. You huff, deciding to stand opposite his desk so he would notice you. He drops his pen, and his gaze finds yours.

It doesn’t take long before he’s noticing your outfit next. A shopping trip to the mall scored you a tight-fitting white top with a low neckline, and the tiniest pair of shorts you could find. Your hair cascaded down your back in small waves. Never seeing you in anything but sweats, Mr Anderson’s eyes almost bulged out of his head.

“Hi Mr Anderson,” you spoke sweetly, taking a printed copy of your political essay out of your tote, “I ended up finishing my draft last night, do you think you can help me look over it after class?”

Your sudden change in appearance and your confident demeanour had your professor speechless. He tried to form the words to say, but couldn’t help taking glances at your copious amounts of cleavage. Knowing your plan was working, you set the essay down on the desk.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” You cross your arms over your chest and raise an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, sure. I’ve got an hour after class. I can help you,” you saw Mr Anderson’s adam’s apple bob as he swallowed thickly. Your plan was well in action, and you’d cursed yourself for not taking the risk earlier.

It wasn’t only Mr Anderson’s attention you’d snagged. As your classmates filtered into the hall, you noticed a lot more stares in your direction. You’d even managed to persuade one of the guys in your class to sit at the front beside you. No one was usually inclined to sit beside you, especially at the front of the hall in Mr Anderson’s direct line of vision. This new found confidence and attention gave you the drive you needed to seal the deal.

“Hey,” the guy next to you whispers to you as Mr Anderson begins the lesson. You turn to look at him and offer him a small smile.

“Y/N right? I’m Kyle,” Kyle smiles back and tears off the corner of his note-page. Your eyebrows knit together in confusion as he slides it over to you. Before you have the chance to read what it says, a hand slams down on your desk.

“Give me that,” you look up to see Mr Anderson had halted his lesson just to get the note you were given.

“Sir, this isn’t high school. We’re allowed to pass notes,” Kyle scoffed, earning himself a few laughs.

“I don’t care, it’s still not appropriate. Y/N? Now please,” Mr Anderson holds out his hand and you hesitantly pass over the note.

He crumples it in his hand and walks coolly back to the front of the hall. You don’t have the nerve to look back at Kyle, who you can now see is typing furiously on his phone. Mr Anderson makes eye contact with you. Something in his gaze burns. In response, you slump in your chair and try to finish the rest of the lesson without pulling your hair out.

When class is over, you wait until everyone’s gone before you approach Mr Anderson again. Mr Anderson stands at the double doors, holding it open and letting everyone leave.

“Hey,” Kyle stands in front of your desk, “sorry about that, don’t know why Mr Anderson is being a dick. Can I grab your Snapchat?”

You try not to laugh as you nod your head. Kyle was cute but, he wasn’t the type of guy you craved. You craved a man who stood over you and took control. Like Mr Anderson.

Regardless, you type your username in his phone and give him a wave as he leaves. Maybe Mr Anderson will see the exchange and feel the way he did about the note.

“Y/N, come sit,” Mr Anderson shuts the door of the hall, locking in from the inside. You leave your desk to sit next to him behind his own.

“I haven’t had a chance to read over it yet, shall we do it in sections?” Mr Anderson tucks in his chair, coming in closer to you. His knee brushes yours, sending a tingle up your spine.

“That’s fine Mr Anderson,” you respond, your gaze burning into the side of his face as he reads.

“What made you want to dress so different today? Change in weather?” Your eyes widen at his question. You clear your throat and let out a small laugh.

“Um, kinda. I was sick of wearing sweats. Suddenly everyone is noticing me,” you bat your eyelashes at your professor as he shares your laughter.

“Ah well. Sounds superficial to me. They should appreciate you regardless.” His comment stumps you, but with your new found confidence, you lean closer to him to whisper.

“I saw you looking too, Mr Anderson,” you purr, “you couldn’t take your eyes off me.”

Mr Anderson subtly chokes on the sip he’d just taken from his keep cup.

“Sorry?” He asks, turning to look you in the eyes.

“You heard me,” you push, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “I could feel it. I thought you might like it.”

Mr Anderson suddenly goes stiff. His eyes turn dark as he turns his entire body to face you. You try and keep your confidence high knowing that passed this point, it was either make or break.

“That isn’t appropriate Y/N,” he growls sternly, getting up from his chair. Shit. You blew it.

You open your mouth to speak, but Mr Anderson has other plans.

“You’re telling me, you dressed like a whore to get my attention?” His lips form into a snarl as he waits for your response. You wanted to just curl into a ball and die.

“Um, I dont know what to say- I-”

“Get up.”

In shock, you hesitantly follow his orders, standing from your chair. You were so close you could feel his cool, minty breath fan your face.

Mr Anderson’s hands find your hips, and in surprise, you gasp. His cool hands turn you around and push your hips into the edge of the desk.

“I’ve always noticed you, Y/N,” your back presses against his chest as he hovers behind you. A dull pulse ignites between your thighs, making you feel lightheaded and slightly dizzy. He had an effect on you six feet away from you. The close proximity was almost too much.

“You’re my best student,” he whispers, pressing the front of his pants to your barely covered ass, “you don’t need to compromise yourself to be that.”

His big hand sits between your shoulder blades, and in an instant, he has you bent over his desk. Your tiny shorts had ridden all the way up, exposing almost the entirety of your ass cheeks.

“Is this what you want?” He asks, as you hear the buckle on his belt rattle as he unclasps it.

“Yes, Mr Anderson,” your breathing picks up pace as you get more excited. Everything you’d dreamed of the whole semester was coming to fruition.

“You have to promise me something,” he says as you feel the cool leather touch your exposed skin. Your body breaks out in a frenzy of tiny goosebumps as he sways the belt across your ass.

“You can’t tell anyone about this, not your friends, not your family, no one. You must understand how bad this is for me, to be giving into you,” Mr Anderson pushes up against your ass again, digging your hips harder into the edge of the table. You let out a small whimper, loud enough for Mr Anderson to notice. The bulge in the front of his slacks only grows hearing the sounds you’re making.

“I promise sir,” you whine, turning your head to look behind you. You see that Mr Anderson had taken off his belt and unfastened his pants. His dark grey boxers were the only thing stopping you from seeing him fully. You’d imagined so many times how big it must be.

“Good girl,” Mr Anderson mewls, before he strikes your ass cheek with the thick leather strap of his belt. You gasp loudly, your body withering beneath him at the pain. When the sting is over, the dull pulse takes over, this time, much more unbearable.

“Let me take these off,” Mr Anderson reaches around to the front of your shorts, unbuttoning them to pull them down your legs. You step out of them, almost shaking in anticipation. It reveals to him your tiny, lace panties.

“Fuck,” you’d never heard Mr Anderson swear. It was so sexy hearing him so worked up that another wave of pleasure coursed through you.

“You’ve been misbehaving, Y/N,” he says, the belt caressing your ass again, “wearing those slutty little clothes just for your professor, those tiny panties,” Mr Anderson was almost shaking in excitement too.

“Please sir,” you plead pathetically, bracing yourself with your hands on the table, “I’m sorry.���

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it. I think you need to feel how wrong it is.”

Another moment passes before Mr Anderson strikes your ass again with the belt. And then again. And again. Until tears prick at the corner of your eyes and your throat goes dry. Your ass was sure to be burning red by now, and it was definitely sore as Mr Anderson caressed his work with his fingers.

“You did so well, I’m done, that’s all your punishment,” he says softly, before he’s pulling your panties down your legs. The cool breeze hits your soaking folds, and it was only then did you realise just how turned on the pain made you.

“Holy shit,” Mr Anderson let’s out a low whistle as he gets on his knees behind you. You wiggle uncomfortably as he spreads your cheeks, leaving nothing to the imagination.

“You’re soaking fucking wet,” he growls, before his fingers make their first contact with your pussy. You almost cry out as Mr Anderson teasingly runs a finger up and down your slit, collecting your sweet arousal. He smears your slick across your clit, applying a small amount of pressure on it. Your knees buckle, but Mr Anderson’s hold on you keeps you up right.

“You little whore. Who would’ve thought, Y/N, a good student, sickly attracted to her professor,” he blows on your cunt, provoking another pleading whine from you.

“Please, sir. I can’t wait,” you cry, pushing your ass out and closer to his face.

Mr Anderson hums, coming in closer and caving to his own desires. With your cheeks spread open for him, he dives in, his tongue prodding between your folds. You moan as he violates you with his tongue, bringing it down towards your sensitive bundle of nerves. He sucks your clit into his mouth, before he’s moving his tongue towards your second hole.

“Oh my god, yes! Yes, fuck!” Your eyes shut as the pleasure rocks you, your nails digging into his desk for leverage. Mr Anderson’s tongue swirls around your tight hole, before he’s back to your dripping cunt. His mouth works expertly against your heat, humming contently at the taste of you.

“Fuck. Come here,” Mr Anderson stands and pulls you away from the desk, pushing you down onto your knees.

He lifts your shirt, above your breasts, seeing you’d also failed to wear a bra. Your nipples stood to attention, as you stared up at him with doe eyes. Mr Anderson pulled out his heavy cock, and your eyes turned the size of dinner plates just looking at it.

“Open,” he commands, his fingers locking around your jaw and wrenching your mouth open.

You took him in your mouth willingly. Mr Anderson takes advantage, shoving his cock so far down your throat it triggered your gag reflex. You look hopelessly up at him as his fucks your throat, collecting all the saliva he could around his thick cock. More tears collect in your eyes as you stare up at him like a lost puppy. His gaze burns into yours as flashes of lust, anger and need glaze over his dark eyes. He desperately needed to be inside your tight, dripping cunt and he didn’t have much time.

“Get up,” he commands again, watching you rise to your feet. With your chests pressed against each other, Kai goes in for the kill. Capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, he pushes your ass back against the desk. You moan into his mouth as his tongue dances with yours, exploring the entirety of the inside of your mouth. His lips are soft and smooth and he tastes extraordinary. It exceeded your dirtiest, darkest thoughts about him.

His hands push your hips down onto the surface of the desk, and then cup under your thighs to hold your legs up. His lips detach from yours, and with one hand, he guides his leaking tip towards your entrance. Mr Anderson spits, directly on your pussy, and a moment later he’s stretching you out. Inch by inch, he sinks inside you. Your head tilts back from the intense pulses of pleasure, and a tiny whine escapes your lips.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Mr Anderson seethes, using his weight to keep your hips down as he finally bottoms out inside you.

“Oh Mr Anderson! Fuck!” You moan, just as he begins to rut his hips. He slams himself inside you, filling you completely, before pulling almost all the way out.

He repeats the motion, his face screwed in pleasure as he pounds into you.

“Such a good girl, taking my cock like this,” he growls, his fingertips digging in your skin and leaving red prints, “you look so fucking good right now.”

You could help but watch where your bodies met. You knew you were on the brink of finishing. Mr Anderson’s cock disappeared inside you, only to come out glistening in your arousal, time and time again. His thumb rests on your swollen clit, circling it with more of his spit.

“Is my good girl gonna cum? Are you gonna finish on Mr Anderson’s cock?” His thrusts only got harder, the tip of his cock deliciously prodding at your sweet spot.

“Yes! Yes sir, can I cum?” You asked, seeing stars in your field of vision as the knot in your abdomen begged to be untied.

“Good girl, cum. Cum for me,” Mr Anderson fucked you so gruellingly and deep it tipped you over the edge.

You let out a pleasured cry as you came like you’d never cum before. Mr Anderson was close behind you, finishing inside you and fucking his cum deep into your pulsing cunt. When he pulled out, still stimulating your clit, a small stream of arousal soaked the front of his shirt. He groaned as you lay, fucked out and panting to catch your breath back. Unfortunately, having wet your draft essay in the process.

Mr Anderson took a moment longer to soak in the image of your bare body, before you finally sat up.

“Why are you wet?” You asked, scrunching your nose in confusion as you got off the desk to dress yourself.

“You squirted on me, sweetheart,” Mr Anderson chuckled, as all the blood drained from your face.

“Oh I’m so sorry sir,” you were quick to reach forward and try and wipe at his dress shirt.

“Your essay too,” he smirked, picking it up in his hand and showing it to you. You groaned.

“I really did want you to read that,” you pouted, trying to take back the wet, and probably unreadable, essay.

“Uh uh,” he tutted, shoving it into his bag, “I’m keeping that. Ill be able to read it.”

The blood returned to your face with a furious heat as your cheeks blushed in embarrassment.

“Y/N, remember your promise,” Mr Anderson cupped your cheek and ran his thumb affectionately over your cheek bone, “and I’d like to see you again.”

Your heart fluttered hearing he wanted to see you again.

“Okay Mr Anderson, thank you,” you smile at him, ready to leave the lecture hall and freak out on your own about what just happened.

“Oh and Y/N,” he stopped you a final time as you reached the hall doors. You turn and face him.

“Call me Kai, outside of class, of course.”

TAGLIST: @evanpetersfanblog @kitwalkersgfff @quicksilversg1rl @iruzias @alexxavicry @soaringcloud @laynna-mcknight @humdrumexistence ce @simp4petermaximoff f @evan4ever @paujmr @jangsuzchap @meganxfox @divineruler r @spill-the-t -t @hihidora

[fanfictionstuff]

hello!! could i request maybe an amaimon x reader (naturally) where reader has to take care of little hamster amaimon after him and rins fight in season 1, but she thinks amaimon did die and that mephisto just named the little hamster after him, reader could also be very vocal to the gang about her obsession with amaimon!

this is a scenario i’ve thought about a lot ngl 😂😂 like reader just gushing about how hot he is and rin being like “he’d murder you, you idiot” and reader would be like “he could murder this p*ssy” and little hamaimon just observing this all LMFAO

maybe at the end he reveals that it’s really him!

hopefully this made sense and didn’t sound crazy lmao

I might have gotten a tad bit carried away (7677 words) 🫢 He's just so amazing I couldn't help it. 💀 Also, you didn't mention it, but there is smut. How are you gonna talk about 'murder this pussy' and not add smut when Amaimon is in his human vessel 🫢

 You trug your way down the hall towards Mephisto’s office. He had called you and asked you to visit him in his office after class. You’re still in an awful mood after the camping trip. Within a few hours, you had fallen in love and then found out one of your best friends had murdered him. Sure, Amaimon might’ve been trying to kill Rin, but that doesn’t mean Rin had to actually kill Amaimon! Mephisto was there. Why hadn’t he stepped in?

Once you reach his office's double door, they open dramatically. “Ah, Miss ______.” He grins. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Hi, Mephisto.”

He frowns at your blunt tone. “Oh dear, is something wrong?”

You let my soulmate die. “Just tired.”

“I see; well, I have a favor to ask of you.” Mephisto points to a small cage sitting on the corner of his desk. “I’m afraid I don’t have the time to take care of my hamster.” Sitting between the cage and Mephisto, you notice a small green fluff ball for the first time. “Did you dye him?” Hamsters aren’t supposed to come in green. “No, he’s one a billion. Can you believe the pet shop was going to throw him out because of his color? I just had to save him! But I’ve now realized I don’t have the time. His name is Amaimon. He’s even got a small cowlick on his head that reminds me of my younger brother. So, I just had to name him Amaimon.”

You step closer to the hamster, reaching out. He hisses, warning you not to touch him halfway to him. Mephisto drops his hand, hitting the desk not far from where Amaimon is standing. “He won’t harm you; I think he’s just a little surprised.” His comment sounds more like a threat. “Anyway~ so here are all the supplies you need.”

“I didn’t agree to take him.”

“Well, it’s an order.”

“Huh?”

“I’m ordering you to take him.”

“Seriously? I’ve never had a hamster before. What if I accidentally kill him?”

“I assure you, you won’t kill him. So-“ He stands from the desk, grabbing the cage and hamster. “Take good care of him.” He demands, placing the cage in one of your hands and the hamster in the other.

 -----------------

“Little Amaimon. What are you doing? You’re not supposed to eat that.” You sigh, watching your hamster stuff multiple candies in his mouth. You had panicked the first time, called the vet (who wasn’t much help), then Mephisto, who didn’t view it as a big deal. ‘If he gets sick, stop by my office with him; I’ll get a specialty vet if needed.’

He ignores you, of course, even going so far as to climb the candy bowl and drop into it. “You're contaminating my candy. You’re lucky I love you,” you huff, gently patting the little hamster on the head.

Not long later, there’s a knock on your door, Rin. You call for him to come in.

“You’re late, Rin. I have important things to do today.”

Rin kicks off his shoes, switching into the guest slippers. “I’m sorry, I got caught up in something. You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked.” He gently scolds as he steps into the living room.

“What’s that?” Rin points at your candy bowl, where little Amaimon is casually sitting.  “Oh, it’s my hamster, Amaimon. I’ve had him about a week now; isn’t he cute?” You pet his head affectionally.

Rin looks at you like you’re crazy. “Seriously? Amaimon? I thought you were over that stupid crush.”

Little Amaimon’s head pops up.

You frown at his words. “One: Mephisto named him. Two: It’s not just a stupid crush; I’m still mad at you for killing him.”

“Mephisto?”

“Yeah, apparently, he rescued little Amaimon from a pet shop but then realized he doesn’t have time to care for him.”

Rin raises a brow and reaches to pet the hamster’s head. Once Rin is close enough, Amaimon bites the finger coming towards him. “Ow!” “Right, I forgot to say he’s bitten everyone he’s come across except Mephisto and me. He even bit Shiemi yesterday.”

“You could’ve told me that before I tried to pet him!”

“You could’ve asked before you tried to pet him.”

“Right. Sorry. Anyway, you’re still going on about Amaimon?” Rin glances at the little hamster on the table. “The demon Amaimon.”

“Rin, he was so attractive; I swear it was love at first sight.” You sigh dramatically.

“I don’t think he even noticed you.”

You cover your heart, “Why do you have to be like that? You murdered the love of my life, and you’re going to be cruel and tell me something like that.” Rin gives you an unimpressed look. “Okay, sure. He didn’t notice me. But who’s fault is that? He didn’t have time to notice me because you murdered him.”

“_____, he would have murdered you.”

“He could murder this pussy.”

Rin’s expression twists in disgust, and just when you’re about to tell him you’re joking, kind of. There is a light sound of choking. “Amaimon!” Your eyes widen as your little hamster is choking on a piece of candy. “What do I do?” As you’re reaching out to him, he clears his throat. “Amaimon, you scared me!” The little hamster stares at you for an unsettling amount of time before jumping back into the candy dish.

“Maybe you shouldn’t feed him candy?”

“I don’t just feed him candy; he finds candy himself and eats it. I’m not actively giving him candy.” You frown, watching little Amaimon to make sure he’s safe. “Anyway, you said you need help with some homework, so pass it here.”

Another week goes by, and you’re on the way to see your friends with little Amaimon sitting on your shoulder. Throughout the last week, he seems to have become clingy. Squeaking at you as you’re getting ready to walk out the door. He squeaked at you again nonstop once you got home; the first two times were too much; he let you know he was angry with you for way too many hours after you returned home.

Once you arrive at the location, you see Shima is the first of your friends to come. He waves you over, and with your black jacket on, the little tuff of green fur really sticks out. “Oh hey, is that little Amaimon? Shiemi was talking about him.”  You sigh, nodding, petting his head. “Yeah, recently, I’ve had to bring him everywhere. Not sure why he’s become so clingy.”

“It doesn’t annoy you?”

“It helps take my mind off the fact Rin killed perfection.”

You talk about Amaimon any chance you get, going on about how attractive he is, how you could see your life flash before your eyes the moment you saw him—falling in love and having cute children who look just like him because who wouldn’t want their children to look like perfection?

Shima rolls his eyes. “It’s just a fleeting crush; you would’ve lost interest by now if he hadn't died.”

“Did you not see how hot he was? There’s no way I’d ever lose interest in someone like that. I’d do almost anything to get a chance to be with him, even if only an hour.”  

“Is this some kind of kink?” Shima laughs. “Cute little schoolgirl wanting the bad boy just to have his way with her.”  You scowl at him. “It’s not a kink, but also, yeah.” During your conversation, little Amaimon starts to nuzzle against your neck.

Shima laughs at the sight. “Maybe he thinks you’re talking about him.”

“You know, he’s starting to let others touch him now.” You grin, reaching up to gently pat little Amaimon’s head. “He’s so soft.”

“Can I pet him?”

“Of course. It shouldn’t be a problem. He even let a random guy pet him the other day.”

Shima grins brightly and leans forward to pet little Amaimon’s head. Without hesitating, Amaimon steps away from your neck, bites Shima hard, hisses at him, and then presses himself against your neck once more. “_____!” Shima whines, pulling his hand to his chest.

“I lied.” You shrug, patting Amaimon.

“No shit! That hurt.”

“He still doesn’t like others, but he’s becoming more affectionate with me.” Amaimon coos and nuzzles you as you speak.

Bon and Konekomaru join you two, hearing the last bit of the conversation. “Maybe he likes you. Have you thought about getting him a hamster friend?” Bon questions, eyeing the little hamster. He’s met little Amaimon a few times, and the hamster seems to hate him more each time they meet. He’s pretty certain the little hamster is glaring at him.

You hum in thought. “I don’t know; it’s nice to have his affection. But maybe you’re right. He might prefer another hamster. Wait, let me google it.” You open your phone and quickly search if hamsters should live with other hamsters. “Okay, well, you’re wrong. They fight, and sometimes it’s to the death. I will never let little Amaimon get hurt like that.”

Konekomaru gives you a curious look. “Why don’t you try searching if it’s normal for them to be affectionate with their owner.”

You scan the different results of Konekomaru’s suggestion. “From what I’m reading, it’s not normal for them to be as affectionate as Amaimon. That’s odd.” You remove little Amaimon from your shoulder, bringing him to eye level. “You’re too cute. I love you.”

“He’s weird.” Rin appears, side-eyeing Amaimon. He’s tried to befriend the little hamster multiple times, but Amaimon won’t have it. “Leave him alone, he’s amazing. I love him.”

Rin snorts. “Okay _____. You have bad taste in guys and hamsters.”

You scowl, stepping closer to Rin. “You’re just jealous.”

“Of what?” He steps forward.

“That little Amaimon doesn’t like you.” Another step.

“I don’t care.” Another step.

“If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t have been trying to get him to warm up to you all week.” Amaimon hisses at Rin’s proximity to you, the hissing boarding a type of growl. Which hamsters are not supposed to be able to do, according to your research.  Weird, he must really hate Rin.

While you and Rin argue, you don’t notice the other girls step up. “She’s clearly using him as emotional support because she’s having trouble getting over the death of a demon who wasn’t even aware she existed.”  Izumo sighs.

Amaimon huffs to himself, sick of being around the damn exorcists, but he knows you won’t leave anytime soon. If that bastard didn’t look at you the way he does, he wouldn’t have to stay with you every time you leave the apartment. He glares at Bon from his place on your shoulder before nudging the edge of your shirt to tuck himself under it and rest against your skin so that the idiots won’t be in his sight.

Bon raises a brow. “Did he just tuck himself under your shirt?”

“Yeah, so? Leave him alone, he’s comfortable.” Little Amaimon’s sharp claws softly touch your side as he adjusts for a more comfortable position; you raise your hand to pat him softly.

 --------------------------

A month passes, and little Amaimon has become even more clingy; you hadn’t thought it was possible. You bought him some really nice tunnels that were kind of expensive. He glanced at them and completely ignored them. Other little items the internet swear hamsters will love you’ve purchased. Nope. He wants nothing to do with any of it. Now, he won’t even stay in his cage. He will squeak at you nonstop until you open the door and let him out. You called Mephisto about it; he just claimed Amaimon is more intelligent than other hamsters and maybe more like a dog. Or even a cat since he seems to hate most things. He recommended just letting little Amaimon have more freedom.

In the first month, he’d accept being in a cage on the other side of your bedroom, and then, starting in the second month, he started screaming at you until you understood he wanted to be beside your bed on the nightstand. After maybe a week of that, he started screaming at you again. He wanted out. He wanted to sleep on your nightstand without the cage.

By the third month, the cage is completely forgotten in a random corner. You’re certain if anyone found out about his intelligence, they’d take him from you and use him for experiments. But he doesn’t get free rein in the house because he’s almost always with you. If you have something important to do, he’ll stay wherever you put him until you take him elsewhere. You’ve set up a decently large area for him to hang out while you’re at school. It’s not like the cage he was first homed in, but it has barriers, so he has to stay in that living room area when you’re at school.

“Little Amaimon, please stay here while I shower.” You set the hamster on your nightstand and quickly shower, as Shiemi had invited you for dinner.  

Stepping out of the shower, irritation floods over you—you forgot your towel. Usually, your bathroom closet is stocked with fresh towels, but you completely forgot to stock it after washing. You attempt to dry off as best you can, using your hands to wipe the excess water from your body. Once you feel you won’t create a puddle on the floor, you step out of the bathroom and head toward a pile of towels draped over a chair across the room. As you cross the space, little Amaimon catches your eye. He’s perched on your bed, staring at you intently. "What’s wrong with you?" you ask the little hamster as you wrap a towel around yourself. You’ll check on him soon; he usually gazes at you like that to signal he wants something.

Once you’ve changed into something decent to meet up with Shiemi, you receive a call from someone else—your mom. 

“A date?” Little Amaimon’s head shoots up; he had been ignoring your conversation. “Yes! A date, I’ve heard so many nice things about Ryuji.” You scratch Amaimon’s little head and listen to your mom talk about how good of a young man Bon is; she isn’t wrong, however, “No, I don’t want to go on a date. I already like someone. I’m supposed to be meeting Shiemi, so I really don’t have time to go on about how Bon is only a friend.” You listen to her try to convince you for a couple more minutes. The whole time she speaks, you can only picture Amaimon. “Mom, I really have to go; I’ll call you later.”

You turn your head to little Amaimon, beginning to rant more to yourself. “It’s so annoying, but I can’t get Amaimon out of my mind. I hate saying it aloud, but it’s true he didn’t know I existed before he died; I only saw him for a moment, so why am I so hung up on him?” Little Amaimon flops on his stomach, listening to you complain. The moments from that night flash through your mind. “But he was so hot, and honestly, he took my breath away for a moment. I’m basically lusting over a ghost.” You blink, returning to reality, and your face burns red at how intensely little Amaimon is staring at you. You cover your face. “I can’t believe I can’t stop thinking about fucking a guy I only glanced at for a moment. What is wrong with me? Ugh, I don’t care. There was just something about him. I love him.” You glance at your watch. “Well, shit- how long have I just been going on about how much I love a dead guy to you? I’m going to be late. Let’s go, little Amaimon. You can stay in the living room; I won’t be gone for long. Bye, love you.” 

As soon as the house door clicks shut, Amaimon lets out a low growl of frustration. Easily breaking through the flimsy barriers you had put up, he scurries to the couch where you keep a landline phone for emergencies. He quickly dials a number and waits impatiently for an answer. “Hello? Miss ______?” Mephisto answers. “I want my human vessel.” Amaimon hisses. Usually, he’s more polite to his older brother, but he’s tired of listening to you go on and on about him, and he’s unable to react how he wants. With how you’ve been teasing him the last three months, and your mother is now attempting to push you into a relationship with Bon. He’ll make sure you never even humor the idea of another man when he’s done with you. “I’m afraid I’m busy this week, Amaimon. You’ll have to wait until next week.” Mephisto’s tone is filled with faux remorse. “Call me in a week.” 

 ------------

The following week for you is weird, little Amaimon refuses to let you leave anywhere alone. When you’d wake up for school, you’d find him sleeping on the pillow by your head. He climbs into your school bag, so you have to take him with you. It’s odd, and you aren’t sure how to react. Other than just letting him have his way, of course, you’ve googled it, and a lot of your answers were either he’s about to die, you’re about to die, or he can sense something horrible about to happen. While you don’t necessarily believe it, you take little Amaimon with you just to be safe.

But he also doesn’t like you spending time with your friends. Usually, he’d just ignore everyone and sleep unless they tried to touch him, but he didn’t allow anyone too close to you the whole week.

“Little Amaimon, I’m sorry, but you have to stay here.” You sigh, placing the little hamster in the little area you’ve set up for him in the living room. You wait for him to scream at you, but he doesn’t. He just watches you silently. That’s odd. But you don’t put too much thought into it, you’ll be late.

It’s long past the time you should have been home, and you’re concerned that little Amaimon might be hungry since you can't recall how much food he had before you left. “Finally, home,” you say, sighing as you remove your shoes and slip into your indoor slippers. “Amaimon, are you okay?” You hold your breath, waiting for a squeak or a scream to confirm that he’s not okay because you left him. But silence follows. As you enter the living room, you notice that one of the walls of his barrier has collapsed. Your heart sinks. “Little Amaimon?”

Initially, you proceed cautiously, examining every corner in search of him. You take deep breaths to hold back the tears. Your apartment is small; even with his petite size, there aren’t many places to hide, especially with his striking green fur. After a complete search of the apartment, you check the bed once more, carefully pulling back the sheets and lifting the pillows. He’s not there. A sob escapes as you start to search the house more frantically, remaining careful not to accidentally harm him if he’s somehow slipped by unnoticed. Yet, he’s not there. He’s gone.

You wake up sore the following day. You had slept on the floor because you were worried little Amaimon might need you and can’t get to you if you’re in the bed. But it was pointless because he’s still missing. As you get ready for school, you feel trudging through sand. Your limbs feel heavy, and you keep trying to find the little hamster, but he’s gone. You have to drag yourself out of the house; thankfully, Shiemi is already outside waiting for you, wearing a huge grin.

“Hi Shiemi.” You mumble weakly.

“I’m going to tell Rin today!”

Your eyes widened; you and Izumo had just talked about it with her last night. You give the best grin your body will allow while nodding. “That’s great, what will you say to him?”

As she shares what she wants to say, you just become more and more confused. “Wait, really?” You had been expecting her to be ready to confess to Rin, not whatever the hell she is going to tell him. “But isn’t high school the perfect time to fall in love- ah, never mind. You’re right. If you want to become stronger first, then good.”

“Thanks! Wait, where is little Amaimon?” She gives you a curious glance; the tiny green hamster is usually on your shoulder.

Tears that you hoped to hold back begin to fall. “I-I don’t know. He- it doesn’t matter. I probably just overlooked him.” You wipe your eyes as you talk. “I’m sure I can find him when I get home.” You keep quiet about the hours you spent searching for him last night and a significant part of this morning. “Let’s go; we don’t want to be late for school.” You smile despite the tears flowing. 

 ------------------------------------

“Shiemi, I’m going to go ahead and get to class, okay?” Normally, you would’ve walked with her to be moral support with Rin, but you just don’t have it in you; your whole body hurts, and your eyes burn from rubbing them too much. You wave over your shoulder, not listening to her telling you she’ll see you later. Once in your class, you drop your head to the desk, trying to think of places you might’ve accidentally missed while looking for your hamster.

Classmates start trickling in; you don’t acknowledge any of them, keeping your head down, even as someone sits next to you. Did you maybe accidentally left the door cracked open? Leaving some treats outside your door might help. Why hadn’t you thought about this before getting to school? Your seatmate pokes your shoulder, and you raise your hand in greeting but don’t bother lifting your head. Too engrossed in ideas of how to find little Amaimon.  Your seatmate leans closer, lowering their voice to a whisper.

“So, murder your pussy?”

Your eyes snap open; why does that voice sound familiar? Quickly, you sit up, snapping your head to the left. The person next to you arches an eyebrow, a lollipop dangling from his mouth. “Anything else I can do for you, ______?”

“W-what? Wait. Amaimon?” Your hands start to shake. “You’re alive? Wait, what are you talking about? How do you know me?”

“Hmmm? You’ve been taking care of me the last three months.”

You stare long and hard before it clicks. Mephisto can turn into a white dog. Did that bastard give you his brother? This whole time, you’ve been living with Amaimon. He was there for everything; you said so many things that you would’ve never said to him if you had known he was there. 

“You heard everything.” You groan, dropping your head to the table. He had been with you twenty-four-seven for three months. “Yes.”

You don’t even know how to wrap your head around this: the demon that you’ve fallen for, who is supposed to be dead, is alive and has been your pet hamster for the last three months? 

Wait, your head snaps up. He’s seen me naked. All the times you’ve changed with him casually sitting in your room.

.

.

.

.

.

“Bye.” You stand, but the demon beside you is faster, gripping your wrist and pulling you back into the seat. “Sit down.”

“I suddenly remember I have something important to do.”

“No, you don’t.”

You sink into your chair, having a million questions but too embarrassed to ask any of them. His hand is still wrapped around your wrist. You can’t look at him, which is a shame because, from the one glance you did get, he looks so much better than you remembered.

His grip tightens on your wrist. “You’re not getting away from me. Three months.” He growls in your ear.

Is he angry that you’ve been treating him like a hamster for three months? But Mephisto had told you, you would have been more than happy to take him in knowing the truth.

“I’m sorry-“

Amaimon grips the front of your uniform, forcing you to look him in the eyes. "For three months, while I was trapped in that vessel, unable to act, you’ve been teasing me. Now that I finally have this vessel back, we’re going to make up for those last three months I couldn’t touch you.”

“What?”

“That’s what you want, right?” He leans closer, running his claws along your thigh. “We can go home now. Who cares if we miss a few classes.” Despite his words, his tone makes him sound bored. Honestly, you want nothing more than to jump on him, exclaim your love, and, let’s be honest, let him have his way with you. However, you’re in the middle of a classroom, and this is a shock. “Wait, I need answers. How are you here? Why would Mephisto want me to take care of you for three months? I don’t understand.”

He stares blankly at you and obviously doesn’t care to share all the details with you. “Big brother said I could have my freedom if I follow the rules as a student.” 

“Okay, and why were you a hamster in my home for three months?”

He refuses to answer.

Fine. “Leaving class early is against the rules.”

Amaimon pulls away from you and glares. “Also, I’ve got a test in chemistry this afternoon that I can’t miss.”

His glare doesn’t soften; he doesn’t care if you have a test. You’ve been teasing him for three months now.

“If we leave now, you’ll only have gone to one class; I don’t think Mephisto would consider that rule-abiding.”

Still glaring.

“What’s your schedule?”

“We have the same schedule.”

“Huh?”

“Big brother agreed to give me the same schedule as you.”

 ----------------------------------

Your friends are standing tensely in the hallway, watching Amaimon’s back as he walks to class. “We need to find _____ to warn her Amaimon is back. I know she’s been talking about falling for him, but she thinks he's dead and he’s a stranger to her. There’s no telling if she’ll act like an idiot and get herself killed or be realistic.” Bon takes the position of a leader. “For the lunch break, someone will just have to be outside her classroom waiting for her.”

Shiemi mentions, "When I saw _____ this morning, she looked very upset; she was crying. She told me it would be okay, but her hamster is missing, so she’s really sad today.”

Bon grimaces. “If she’s completely torn up over her hamster. Her actions might reflect that, and she might do something stupid. I wonder if we can keep her oblivious about Amaimon for at least a week.” He clinches his fist.

“So, who should meet her in the classroom.” 

“I can.” Bon stands firmly. 

Shima throws an arm over Bon’s shoulder. “Aw, gonna be her knight in shining armor? She might even need a hug.” 

Bon’s firm expression starts to break as his face reddens. “Shut up, we’re just friends!”

“Yeah, but when she actually meets Amaimon, there’s no way she’d like him. You can swoop in.”

“Shut up,” Bon growls through gritted teeth. 

The class before lunch seems to take forever for him; he can barely focus; he has to get to you before you run into Amaimon and get your heart broken. 

When the bell finally rings, Bon taps his fingers anxiously, waiting for the teacher to dismiss them. Once he does, Bon jumps from his seat and runs; you’re only a few doors down. He can grab you, and you’ll be safe.

He feels a wave of horror as he spots Amaimon in the doorway of your classroom. Maybe you don’t realize who he is. He’s having to use an alias; he doesn’t know who you are, so he wouldn’t tell you. right? Bon grits his teeth, contemplating the best course of action. Things take a turn for the worse when he realizes Amaimon is speaking to someone. Of course, it’s you. 

“______!” Bon runs forward, attempting to put himself between you and Amaimon. “How are you? I thought maybe we could walk to meet everyone together.” He grins, hoping you’re unaware the person behind him is Amaimon. 

“Sorry, I know I usually do. But I’ve got plans today.”

Bon watches you closely. You still haven’t referred to him as Amaimon; surely, you’d be really giddy or upset about him turning you down if you were aware. He can still help you. “Neither of us has the class after lunch, right? I heard you lost your hamster. Maybe I could return to your apartment with you to find your hamster during the break?” He suggests, knowing you don’t live that far from campus.

Bon feels a heavy weight in his heart as you shake your head. “Actually, I’m having lunch with him," you say, gesturing discreetly toward Amaimon without mentioning his name. It's clear Bon is aware, and he probably knows you’re aware. But you don’t want to be the first to say it. 

Amaimon's eyes narrow into a fierce glare as he forcefully shoves Bon away from you, a protective instinct surging through him. "Don’t get close to her; she’s mine," he growls, lifting his arm, his fist swinging toward Bon with a forceful intent. You instinctively flinch at the sharp sound of their impact, the crack echoing in your ears, but the shock renders you momentarily paralyzed, your heart racing. Bon stumbles back, a look of disbelief mixed with fury etching across his face as he clutches his jaw, grimacing in pain while shooting deadly glares at Amaimon. 

Bon is aware that Amaimon is holding back; he assumes that it is because of orders from Mephisto not to hurt other students. He watches, eyes narrowed, as Amaimon grabs your wrist. “Let’s go.”

You glance over your shoulder at Bon; he’s standing and just glaring at Amaimon’s back. Amaimon must not have hit him as hard as it first seemed because Bon is standing straight, tightened fists by his sides.

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

“You said you’re supposed to follow the rules.” You’re sitting on a picnic table bench with your back against the table. With his body pressed against yours, he’s basically in your lap at this point. “Big brother didn’t say this was against the rules.” His lips hover over yours for a brief moment before meeting yours. It’s not a sweet, innocent first kiss like you had imagined your first kiss to be. Amaimon’s lips feel warm and insistent, and when his tongue brushes against your lower lip, you freeze, unsure how to react. Without warning, he pulls at your hair, prompting a gasp from you and allowing him entry. The sweetness of candy still lingers on his tongue as it navigates your mouth. He tilts his head to deepen the kiss even more.

"What the hell are you doing to her?!" You stop in your tracks, recognizing the voice instantly. But Amaimon keeps his grip on you, tugging harshly at your hair to get your attention back. He loosens his hold slightly, giving you a chance to catch your breath, but when you try to sneak a glance at Bon, Amaimon grabs onto your jaw tightly. “Look at me. Only me.”

"Let her go." Bon's voice is cold and firm.

Amaimon releases his grip on your hair and jaw, but he doesn't let you go just yet. You can feel his irritation pulsing off him in waves. 

Rin and the others appear behind Bon, all taking defensive students. Rin snaps. "Let her go, or else." Which makes zero sense to you. 

“Stop!” You glare at Rin. “What are you even talking about? I’m perfectly fine with this.” Have they been living under a rock? You’ve spoken about Amaimon almost nonstop, and they’re acting surprised you’re in his arms now, and they’re acting like you’re a victim. This is exactly where you’ve wanted to be since seeing the demon king.

Bon snaps at you. “Don’t be stupid! You don’t want to be with him.” He yells. “You’re letting your stupid hormones affect your common sense.” 

“I don’t care. There’s nothing wrong with it, as you said, hormones, it’s normal.” 

Shima raises a brow. “Wanting to fuck a demon king is definitely not normal.” 

Bon turns to Shima. “Seriously? Shut up.”

Shima rolls his eyes. “That’s what you’re talking about.” 

You glance at poor Shiemi, who looks like her head might explode. “Stop being vulgar in front of Shiemi.” 

Amaimon pulls a lollipop from his pocket and pops it in his mouth. “Let’s go.” He grabs your arm and pulls you away from everyone else. 

“______!”

You lift a hand to wave at them without looking back. “I’m more than fine.” 

The demon king has you questioning if he’s part succubus as you’re pushed against a random wall, his lips attached to your throat, occasionally leaving small bites. “We shouldn’t be doing this at school.” He hums in agreement. “Yes, let’s go home then.” 

“We still have three classes.” 

His claws push against your thigh, teasingly moving his hand up your skirt. “But I thought you didn’t want to do this at school?” He whispers in your ear, gently biting it. 

As Amaimon's hand trails up your thigh, you can feel yourself blushing and growing more flustered. Again, you give a weak excuse about being in school, but he simply nods and reaches into his pocket. At first, you think he's grabbing another lollipop, but instead, he pulls out a key. "What is the key to?" 

“Our apartment.” He murmurs against your lips before kissing you again, deeply; the magical key opens the door to your living room while his hands slowly glide up your skirt, gripping the waistband of your underwear. As you respond to his touch, he suddenly pulls away and drops his hands to his sides. He glances at the door nonchalantly, saying, "If you don't want to." He reaches to close the door, but you quickly stick your foot out to stop it. Your face flushes red with embarrassment. “Are you part succubus? I can miss half a day. But how are you going to explain to Mephisto since you promised him, you’ll be a good student?” 

“Having sex with you in our apartment rather than in the hallway is what a student who follows the rules would do.” His lips meet yours once more as he guides you inside, shutting the door with his foot.

“You keep saying ‘our apartment.’” 

“Yes, I’ve been living here for the last three months; why wouldn’t it be my apartment?” he questions, shrugging off his blazer and carelessly tossing it onto the couch. His hands immediately find their way back to you as he kicks off his boots, his mouth hot against your throat. He waits, kissing and nibbling your skin until you remove your shoes. But he doesn't give you a chance to switch to indoor shoes. When the shoes are off, he lifts you, making you wrap your legs around his waist. 

He carries you to your bedroom and drops you on the bed, smirking. “I finally get to murder your pussy.” Your face burns at the reminder once again. You have a feeling he’s not going to let you live that down anytime soon. “Stop.” You whine, covering your face in embarrassment. “I’m going to remind you every time we have sex for the rest of our lives.” 

You have many questions about that statement, but bite your tongue, not wanting to ruin the moment.

Amaimon reaches for your blazer, quickly undoing all the buttons and removing the shirt. You aren’t sure how he’s so fast without damaging your clothes, but he’s just as quick in removing the rest of your clothing. “Don’t.” He narrows his eyes as your hands instinctively move to cover your chest. “Why are you acting shy? I’ve seen you like this multiple times,” he reminds you. “I should tie you to this bed for at least a week after how you teased me for three months.”

“That’s not fair; I didn’t know you were the hamster.” You whine, fighting the urge to cover yourself. 

“Don’t worry, because you’re a virgin, I won’t tie you down this time.” He stares at you blankly.

“How do you know I’m a virgin?!” 

“You told that purple-haired girl you’re going to die a virgin because I was dead.” 

“Oh.” Your eyes widened; you had invited Shiemi and Izumo to your house for a small study group, and like always, you were able to get in a few comments about Amaimon. “I was joking.” 

“Sure.” 

“I was.” 

“Right.” 

“I was!” 

Amaimon shrugs, sitting to your side as he lifts his hands to his shirt, undoing each button. “Okay. It doesn’t matter because I’m going to-” 

“If you say what I think you’re about to say, I will kick you.” 

“Okay, don’t be that vulgar around another man again; I don’t care if you are talking about me.”

“Another man? Does that mean I can be vulgar with you?”

He raises a brow. “Sure, but you get flustered over that comment; I can’t imagine you will be vulgar with me anytime soon.”

“What? I can totally be vulgar- wait, that sounds weird.” You glance at Amaimon and notice he’s covered his face. “Are you laughing at me?”

“Yes.” Amaimon gets off the bed, dropping the shirt to the floor, along with his pants and underwear.

Your gaze travels across his body. Honestly, you feel your mouth water at the sight of his toned muscles. You let your eyes drop below his waist; your breath hitches in your throat. He’s stunning. Every part of him visible is flawless, and suddenly, you become more aware of your own body. You cover your breasts with one hand while trying to shield your womanhood with the other.

A low growl comes from Amaimon, and you’re pinned to the bed, arms pinned on either side of your head. “I told you not to cover yourself. I will tie your arms.”

“You look perfect, and I look—” you shrug; while you’re not unattractive, it’s difficult to envision anyone else matching his beauty. “Beautiful.” Amaimon leans in, pressing his hardness against your thigh, his face expressionless just before he bends down to kiss you.

You notice something odd behind him when he pulls away from the kiss. “What’s that?” 

He blinks, confused by your question.

“That.” You point at it again. 

Amaimon glances behind him, not seeing anything. “What is what?” 

“Is that your tail?”

“Oh. Yes.” 

“Can I touch it?”

“No.” 

“Oh.” 

Amaimon smirks, moving his tail to wrap around your thigh. “Yes, you can touch it.” 

Forgetting that you’re naked, you sit up, pushing the demon back. “It’s so cute, I love it.” You reach for the tail, gently running your fingers along it from the base to the fluffy tip.

Amaimon humors you and your interest in his tail a moment longer before he pushes you back against the bed, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss is intense and passionate and leaves you breathless. Amaimon’s hands roam over your body, his claws gently running along your skin until reaching your breasts; carefully, he palms your breasts, careful not to hurt you with his claws. 

He pulls away from the kiss, his lips tracing a path down your neck and over your collarbone, leaving behind a trail of delicate kisses and nibbles. He pauses at your breast, swirling his tongue around the areola before taking your hardened nipple into his mouth. The other breast receives the same attention before he moves even lower, pausing at your hips. 

With a low growl, Amaimon's hands slid beneath your waist, pulling you closer to his lips. He traced kisses down the length of your thigh, pausing to bite your skin gently. He pauses, glancing up at you with a blank stare as you begin to squirm slightly under him. “What’s wrong _____? Is there something you want?” 

When you don’t answer, he parts your thighs, staring long enough that you start to squirm more. “Amaimon, you’re being weird. Don’t just stare at me.” You complain, attempting to close your legs. “Okay.” Using a knuckle, he guides it along your sensitive folds, with his eyes returning to your face. 

“Amaimon.” You whine. He’s just barely applying enough pressure so you can feel a bit of pleasure. 

“What?” 

“Don’t be an asshole.”

He pushes his knuckle a bit past your folds, collecting some of your slick, then bringing it to his face. He keeps eye contact with you, and he licks it clean. “I asked you if there is something you want. Answer me.”

“I want you.” 

“You have me.” 

“Amaimon!” 

“You have to be more specific ______.” He speaks monotone while using his knuckle to collect more of your slick. “Your body is reacting so nicely to me.” He places his knuckle in his mouth. “You taste great.”

“Please.” 

He stares, showing no emotions. 

“Amaimon.” You groan. “Fine! Please, eat me out.” You quickly cover your face in embarrassment when you realize what you said. 

Your face is still hidden when you feel his breath against your entrance. Gently, he opens your legs and presses his mouth against you, sliding his tongue from your opening all the way up to your sensitive nub. Your hands clench the sheets beneath you, your knuckles turning white as you grip them tightly. The sensations are overwhelming, and you cannot hold back crying his name.

Amaimon's eyes are locked onto your face, his expression a mixture of amusement and satisfaction as he continues his ministrations. He enjoys the power he wields over you in this moment. His tongue moves in slow, deliberate strokes, alternating between gentle flicks and deep thrusts of his tongue. You can feel the tension inside you coiling like a tight spring about to snap. Unable to bear it much longer, you run your hands through his hair, tugging him closer to him, chasing your pleasure.  

Amaimon hums in satisfaction, his tongue lazily flicking against your sensitive nub as he draws out your orgasm.

Finally, the wave of pleasure crashes over you, your body shaking violently as Amaimon's name leaves your lips once more. He lifts his head, his mouth glistening with your arousal. He licks his lips slowly, savoring your taste before leaning down to capture your lips in a possessive kiss.

As you recover from your orgasm, you feel Amaimon's body pressing against yours, his erection still hard and ready. You reach down to touch him, but he stops your hand.

"No," he replies flatly. "I’ve waited three months; I want to be inside you." He leans in for another kiss, “Are you ready?” He whispers against your lips, running his erection against your folds for lubrication. 

You glance down at his member before looking back into his eyes. He’s not small, and you’re worried about pain. “You’ll be gentle, right?” 

“For your first time? Yes.” 

He lowers his head, bringing you into another passionate as his erection slowly enters you; the sensation is intense but not painful. Amaimon's lips are gentle as he nips your lower lip and kisses you more tenderly. “Does it hurt?” He braces himself, not wanting to move until you’re comfortable. “No, it’s okay.” 

Slowly, he starts to move within you, his thrusts steady and deep. As he continues his ministrations, Amaimon's golden gaze never leaves yours, his movements slow and deliberate. Watching carefully to make sure you’re still comfortable before increasing the pace.

As the intensity of his thrusts increases, you pull him closer, your arms wrapped tightly around his body. “Amaimon, faster.” 

"Faster?" he repeats. "Is that what you want?" His eyes locked onto yours, his golden gaze burning into your soul. 

"Yes!" you gasp, your heart pounding in your chest. "Faster!" 

Amaimon complies, his hips moving with a fierce intensity that takes your breath away. With each thrust, the tension builds until it feels like it may burst. You hold onto his shoulders tightly, your nails digging into his skin as you arch your back to meet his movements. 

He keeps his eyes locked with yours while moving his hand between you, mindful of his sharp claws. He uses a knuckle to stimulate your clit, the sensation combined with him being inside you is what pushes you over the edge.

You cry out his name as your second orgasm crashes over you. Your body shakes as he continues to thrust into you, his movements becoming more erratic and urgent. 

As you moan with pleasure, Amaimon watches your face intently. He tightens his grip on your hips and thrusts into you more forcefully, feeling his own release approaching. His teeth graze against your neck, and he bites down. The sharp feeling of pain from his bite is mixed with the pleasure from your last orgasm; you dig your nails into his back at the feeling. 

With a deep growl, Amaimon shuts his eyes, and his muscles tense before releasing inside of you. He holds onto you tightly until the sensation passes. 

You both lay there, panting and basking in the afterglow. Amaimon's golden eyes soften as he gazes at your flushed face. He pulls out of you carefully, concerned about any discomfort it might cause. 

“Are you okay?" he asks, gently stroking your hair away from your face.

You nod, unable to speak momentarily as you catch your breath. "So, that was fun," you manage to say, a smile playing on your lips.

Amaimon gives you a deadpan stare. “Glad you enjoyed it.” 

You sit up, slightly wobbly, and reach for a tissue to clean up. "Thanks for being gentle," you glance around the room awkwardly, unsure what to do now. 

“You should rest; I won’t be as gentle next time.” 

“Next time?” 

“Tonight, if you get some rest now.” 

[imtrashraccoon]

The final Dust chapter...we're halfway through folks! I'm really happy with this one and it fills me with many fuzzy feelings.

@owl-bones

First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day.

Bad Sansuary: Dust - Tears

Word Count: 2,235.

It was a good day.

You were packing for college and you'd soon be halfway across the country far away from your insufferable family. You'd promised you would call, but had added that you may be too busy to do so. Psychology was a complicated subject and you would likely be swamped with coursework afterall.

They didn't care and neither did you for that matter. You gladly welcomed the chance to have a fresh start and freedom to live life the way you'd always dreamed to. You would be your own person and not just the lesser copy of your elder sister.

"Hey! Are you deaf or something?"

Speak of the devil and she shall appear. You dropped a folded shirt onto your suitcase and turned to the doorway of your bedroom where your sister was standing impatiently. She was wearing a new dress and expensive shoes, again, and her face was practically caked with designer makeup.

"What do you want now?" you heard yourself grumble.

Your sister rolled her eyes. "I asked what do you think you're doing? Mom needs you to watch the house for the next week while they're away, you can't just leave!"

You frowned and crossed your arms. "We've been over this at least a dozen times. I'm leaving tomorrow morning to catch a plane so I'll have time to get settled in the dorms before the first semester starts. I can't just rebook the flight now as they won't refund me."

Her face contorted into a snarl and she crossed her arms. "Fine, go and abandon our parents for a stupid degree. You'll come to regret it one day!"

She turned to leave and as the clicking of her heels on the laminate flooring started to fade, you darted to the door to stop her. "Hold on! Why can't you watch the house? You're not going to college right away..."

Your sister scoffed and flipped her long hair behind her back as she turned around again. "Who needs college? All I gotta do is bag some rich idiot who'll bend over backwards for anything I want."

"Gross."

"And what, working every day for the rest of your life is somehow better?"

"At least I'll have something to fall back on while you'll be left high and dry when he dumps you." You crossed your arms and glared at her. "And you didn't answer my question, what are you doing that is keeping you so busy?"

"The girls and I are going on a trip to Vegas to celebrate graduating." She narrowed her eyes at you and poked your chest with one of her too long manicured nails. "And no, you're not invited, you fun sponge...."

"Double gross. I wouldn't be caught dead with your 'friends', not after all the crap they put me through." You made air quotes with your fingers to emphasize that word specifically.

"Ugh! Mom was right, you're way too sensitive."

You clenched your jaw and took a slow, deliberate breath. Once you had calmed down and weren't about to clock your own sister, you asked another question. "How are you even affording a trip after you were fired? Surely, mom and dad aren't bankrolling this too?"

She rolled her eyes, "Idiot, I'm temporarily borrowing from my inheritance that Grandma left. I have plenty of time to put it back if I actually decide to go to college anyways."

You frowned as she turned and left the house. Something about how she'd said that didn't sit right with you. Your grandmother had left both of you money for college and you had decided long ago to keep it just for that. Your sister was as careless as ever though, but what right did you have to judge her foolish spending habits? It would undoubtedly come back to bite her one day and by then you would be financially secure with an amazing career.

You also didn't like how your sister had seemingly ignored all the times you'd told your family your plans over the past few weeks. You weren't going to give them up now, not even if she begged you to.

If only it had been so simple...

"What do you mean the money's gone?! That was meant to be for my college!" you remembered shouting.

Your mother didn't even turn around and continued packing her suitcase. "Remember when your sister was in that car accident a year ago? We needed to get her corrective surgery and the money had to come from somewhere. It's just money and family is more important. Besides, it's not even like it was actually yours and we'd only briefly talked about it."

It's not fair...

You woke with a heavy heart. Why had your brain chosen that particular memory to fixate on? It had been years since you left home and cut contact with just about everyone you ever knew.

Sitting up in bed, you wrapped your blankets around your shoulders and took deep breaths to try and relax. No matter how much time passed, you couldn't seem to forget about them, even though you'd tried.

There was no way you could forget about the nightmare and go back to sleep now either. Your mind was simply too jumbled to rest and it felt like you were reliving the painful emotions you'd experienced back then all over again.

It was way too early in the morning to stay up though. Maybe a snack and a drink of water would help calm your frayed nerves? If not, there was always the option of binging some historical romance shows until you fell asleep on your own. With your mind made up, you steeled yourself for the trek to the kitchen.

You didn't get far though.

No sooner did you flip on the hall light, did your gaze settle on a familiar sight. Dust was hunched over in an almost fetal position on your couch with his hood covering his face. His skull was buried in his hands and from the way he was heavily breathing, you knew he'd been crying.

Your original mission forgotten, your heart immediately went out to him. Being careful not to startle him, you made your way over to the couch and sat down next to him.

The only acknowledgement he gave to signify that he was aware of your presence was a brief glance in your direction from beneath his hood.

"Is it one of those times again?" you asked softly.

He didn't answer.

"Can I give you a hug? You look like you could use one right now."

You waited a few seconds just in case, but when he didn't say no, you figured he at least wasn't opposed to the gesture. You wrapped your arms around him and sat there quietly, just holding him close for a while.

At some point, he shifted and tentatively wrapped his arms around you as well. He managed to give you a slight squeeze and murmured a very soft, "...thank you."

He seemed exhausted and in no mood to talk about whatever had bothered him to the point of tears. That was fine, you weren't exactly in the mood to dwell on whatever negative emotions your nightmare had dredged up either.

"Are you going to be alright now?" you asked.

He shrugged and you could feel his gloved phalanges mindlessly draw circles across your shirt. He didn't say anything for several seconds but you waited patiently in case he changed his mind.

"i'll be okay... just, i don't want to go back there right now..." he muttered.

"Well, I actually had a bad dream...and I really don't think I can go back to sleep anytime soon anyways." With a sigh, you loosened your hold on his body and asked, "Wanna just hang out with snacks and watch whatever trash happens to be on tv right now?"

"eh, beats being dead i guess..." he grunted and somewhat reluctantly let go of you.

You rolled your eyes at how snarky his tone of voice was. It seemed that his sass meter was always dialed up to eleven whenever he was exhausted, but you didn't mind in the slightest. His comments never came across as malicious anymore and you actually welcomed his often blunt jokes. It was better than when he used to ignore your questions at least.

You didn't have a whole lot of snack foods save for a bag of dill pickle chips and a pack of store bought chocolate chip cookies. Meh, they were still worthy choices in your opinion. Once you were both settled on the couch again with the snacks and some water, you flipped through the channels before settling on a rerun of an old western movie.

Only a few minutes into the film though, Dust decided to slink his arm around your shoulders and scooted closer until you might as well be cuddling. You didn't mind in the slightest and neither did you acknowledge that this was technically the most he'd willingly touched you before now.

"Can I ask you something, Dust?"

He hummed quietly and tilted his skull to look over at you.

"Is there a reason you wear gloves all the time?"

He glanced down at his left hand and tentatively flexed his phalanges in a thoughtful manner. "i just don't like getting my hands dirty...it's irritating..." he murmured.

"Ah, I wondered if that could be the reason."

"it's also good so i don't leave evidence laying around," he added with a dry chuckle.

You gave him a blank look but you couldn't tell if he was serious or not. "Now I know you're pulling my leg, skeletons don't have fingerprints..."

"...that you know of," he finished for you. There was a mischievous glint in his eyelights and you noticed his smile was slightly wider than usual.

"I...don't think I want to continue this conversation... I really don't need to know why someone like you worries about leaving evidence at crime scenes, okay?"

Dust chuckled quietly and squeezed your shoulder a little. "yeah, you already worry about enough as is, bean," he said.

"Huh... Why do you call me that anyways?" you asked. "It seems so random..."

A soft violet glow briefly flickered across his zygomatic bones and he glanced away from you. He made a sound of clearing his throat and tapped his phalanges nervously against the couch cushions.

"it's, uh... actually it's sort of a pun..." he muttered.

"Really?" You tilted your head thoughtfully as you tried to rack your brain for any kind of word it could be referring to. "I don't get it...?"

"well, it'll sound really lame if i explain it..."

"No, please tell me! I promise I won't laugh, okay?"

He chuckled and nodded, although you noticed his cheekbones were still that lovely shade of purple. "okay, okay... you're a...?"

"Woman?"

He shook his skull and vaguely gestured with his free hand. "a human...what?"

You narrowed your eyes in thought. "A human being..."

"now say it quickly and in an exaggerated voice."

"Human bein'...human bean..." You crossed your arms and fixed him with a "Really?" look.

Dust nearly dissolved into a fit of laughter, which made it really hard to keep a straight face but you had unfortunately promised not to laugh at him. Still, you were going to make it known how disappointed you were right now.

"i told you it was lame..." he finally managed to say once he'd calmed down again.

"you were right!" you grumbled and gave his knee a playful punch. "Axe was at least more creative that you."

"what, he didn't just pick something food related like, i dunno, pumpkin?"

You shook your head. "Nope, he calls me lil' chip. I actually never asked him why though..."

"huh... you're right, that is pretty creative," Dust muttered thoughtfully. "i still prefer bean though..."

You sighed and flopped your head against the back rest. "Suit yourself then..." you grumbled.

The movie turned out to be more boring than you'd thought it would be and you soon found yourself struggling to keep your eyes open. After you'd jolted yourself awake a couple of times when your head started to loll to one side, Dust seemed to get an idea.

"here..." He grabbed one of the throw pillows you had lying around and set it on his femurs. "if you're that tired, you should at least lay down so you don't hurt your neck or something.

You hesitated for a split second but realized that it couldn't hurt at least. So, you shifted your body until you could lay down comfortably with your head on the cushion in his lap. He spread a blanket over your body before flashing that more genuine smile of his at you.

"comfy?"

"Very..." you hummed in response.

Dust nodded and turned his attention back to the movie again. You tried to focus on it as well, especially when the more action packed scenes came on, but you couldn't seem to resist the pull of sleep any longer. It really didn't help when he started absentmindedly playing with your hair as well.

The next thing you knew, the sun was out and you were safely tucked back into your own bed. The only evidence that he'd been there at all was the couch pillows being slightly askew and the snacks being gone that you'd both consumed in the night.

[athenasparrow]

“you left your underwear back at my place.” Jily

Because this made me laugh when I read it

I hope this makes you laugh too @liiilyevans 😂

Rating: M

Send me a prompt

When Lily wakes up, it’s to a pounding headache and a bitter taste in her mouth that informs her – in a voice that sounds eerily like Petunia – that she shouldn’t have downed the five flaming vodka shots at the end of the night. But Marlene had already ordered them and it would’ve been such a waste.

Lily groans and reaches for her phone, determined to tell Marlene off for making her feel so damn horrible, but she's rather distracted by the message that blinks innocently at her on the screen.

Unknown: Hi : D You left your underwear at my place. Let me know when you're awake - I can drop them off.

Lily stares at the message...someone has obviously typed in the wrong number; it was hazy, but she remembers getting in the cab alone. And her underwear was still–

Oh no.

Lily frantically yanks up her dress, staring in horror at her very knickerless–

Lily: Who is this?

Had she shagged the cab driver? She couldn’t remember if he was cute or not. Oh god, what if she’d given in to the building super who had been hitting on her for months. He was like fifty! That would explain why he had her number. Shit, double shit. 

Lily: Is this Horace? 

Unknown: Wait, you're shagging Slughorn?

A wave of pure relief swept through Lily; she was not – thank god – shagging her super.

Lily: No! No more questions!

Who are you?

I’ve woken up with no knickers and am now checking the opening hours for my nearest chemist so I can go buy a fucking pregnancy test.

And get an STI screening!

I do not have time for games right now!

Tell me who you are and return my knickers at once!

Unknown:

Woah, hold on a sec

You don’t need a pregnancy test or an STI screening

At least not because of last night

Lily:

And how would you know that genius?

Unless you’re infertile and a virgin there’s a chance of both!

Again, who am I speaking with?????

Unknown: I am neither infertile nor a virgin

Lily: Then you don’t “know” shit, do you?

Unknown: But we did not have sex last night

Lily: Oh!

Unknown: And this is your neighbour, James

Lily: I don’t have a neighbour named James!

James: I beg to differ. Listen, can you answer your door?

Even with that warning, Lily still jumped when a sharp rap sounded in her apartment. She had quite a few things to say to this man! She didn’t have a neighbour named James; she would know, she’d been living in this apartment for three years. Alice and Frank lived down the hall – they were looking for a bigger place since the arrival of their little one – in number seven. Arabella – a lady who had more cats than square metres – lived in number six. Number five held a charming set of twins – Gideon and Fabian – who Lily was happy to flirt with every time they got mail at the same time. She was in number five and number four–

Oh no.

Lily doesn't have time to stop her hand as it reaches out in front of her and opens the door.

Fit bloke from number four.

He looks even more delicious and Lily is suddenly rather regretful he’d said they hadn’t shagged. But she’s distracted from that thought by the sudden assault of memories.

***

“Pads?” James calls, hearing the door slam shut. He barely glances up from his phone as he frowns at the latest next his mother’s sent him. 

He does jump up at the ensuing crash – and rather loud silence in place of his brother’s usual greeting – running to the hallway and greeted with a rather strange sight.

The beautiful redhead from number five is sprawled out on his floor and seems to be giving her shoe a rather harsh verbal lashing.

“What are you making me trip for, you stupid thing!”

“Are you sure it’s the shoe that made you trip and not the several glasses of whatever you’ve been drinking?” James interrupts with a laugh.

She spins around, obviously caught by surprise, before letting out a triumphant yell as she yanks one heel off, then the other, tossing them carelessly over her shoulder. James winces at the mark the first one leaves on his wall but decides it’s nothing when her second shoe narrowly misses the vase his mother had gifted him.

“I think you’re in the wrong apartment,” James says kindly. She looked quite plastered. “Would you like me to–”

“I’m not in the wrong apartment!” Lily interrupts confidently. “You’re fit-man!”

“I’m James actually?” James says, rather bewildered. “And if anyone is fit here, it’s you!”

The redhead looks rather delighted at his compliment. “That’s excellent that you think so! This will work rather nicely then!”

“What will work nic– Hey! What are you doing?” 

Jame thinks it’s a fair question since she’s hiked up her dress – he was not going to look – and was tugging her deep blue lacy knickers – no looking! – down her pale legs. 

“Well, how are we supposed to do it with them on?” The redhead says, shooting him a look that James thinks is supposed to mean duh when in reality, he’s quite far from understanding anything at the moment.

“It?” James asks, clearing his throat and happy she doesn't appear to notice he sounds like a frog.

“Don’t you know what sex is?” And now she’s giggling at him, bright and free and drunk.

“I know what sex is,” James feels the need to clarify. “But we can’t do it right now.” No matter how much I wish we could.

“Why not?” She demands, her eyes wide – and mesmerising – and horrified as she stares at him.

“Because you’re drunk,” James breaks to her gently, fighting back a laugh. “And I don’t even know your name.”

“Lily.” A pause. “I suppose it would be odd to have sex with me when you don’t know my name.”

James nods vigorously, glad she’s seeing some sense. Hopefully he can convince her to go back to her apartment so he doesn't have to keep telling his cock to stay the fuck down. 

“It’s a pity I’m drunk,” she tells him. “I was really hoping for an orgasm before bed, it really helps me sleep, you know?”

James chokes on the very air he was supposed to be breathing. He does know but he’s not going to tell her that. “I suppose you’ll have to sort that out yourself."

Lily heaves a long sigh like he’s announced Christmas has been cancelled. “Are you sure you can’t help me?” she pouts.

You’re sure James, he tells himself sternly. 

“I’m sure,” he confirms. “You’re drunk.” He says this out loud for his benefit as much as for hers.

“So you would help me if I wasn’t drunk?” 

I would bury my face between your legs and make you cum over and over again.

“Would love to,” James says instead. “If you still want to of course.”

“I’ll still want to,” Lily declares surely and James hopes so, but he won’t hold it against her if she doesn’t. “Oh no!”

“Oh no what?” 

“I’m going to be sick.”

Well shit. 

James scrambles to his feet, thankful the bathroom is in the hallway as he helps her stand and rushes her to the toilet. He holds her hair as she retches into the toilet and offers her a glass of water when she’s done. 

“Now I’ve ruined it” Lily sighs regretfully as she leans her cheek against the toilet seat.

“Ruined what?”

“My sexiness! This is decidedly un-sexy.”

He shouldn’t be flirting – she's drunk – but James can’t help but reassure her. “You could throw up in my toilet all day long and I’ll still think you're beautiful.”

“You would?”

“I would. But let’s talk about this tomorrow, okay? I think you could use some sleep.”

“You’re fit and nice. Do you think I could marry you someday?”

“How about we go on a sober date first,” James proposes, shoving aside the image of her in a white dress that his traitorous mind procures.

“If we must,” Lily hums, letting him pull her up. She grabs a pen off his console and – rather neatly, given how drunk she is – writes her number on his arm. “Now you can find me again!”

She looks so pleased with herself that James doesn’t remind her he only needs to walk three metres to her door. Instead, he grabs her shoes as he guides her out his door and down the hallway. When he sees her safely to bed – her eyes are already heavy – he slips out to leave her in peace. 

Damn. Her knickers.

He grins as he reaches into his pocket for his phone, typing in the numbers neatly scrawled on his arm.

James: Hi : D You left your underwear at my place…

[hayatoseyepatch]

SAMMM HIIIII I THINK I WANNA JOIN YOUR EVENT WITH UME 🥹

some the details about us:

obviously, we are polar opposites from our personalities. while i bring a calmness to his world, he adds so much excitement and joy to mine. clearly brings me out of my shell, makes me enjoy life without silly doubts that can sometimes ruin the fun for me

sooo we really love going ice skating. that's what we are most excited for as soon ad it gets cold. he's awful at it but is so innocently uncaring about making a fool of himself that it helps me get over my shyness and have a good time. i used to be a pro figure skater but dropped it for unfortunate reasons and always regretted it. just imagine him falling on his ass and looking up with his silly cute grin ugh

another thing i love and made him enjoy is going to christmas markets and explore everything but since i can get super overwhelmed in big crowds, having him by my side is a sort of security that i missed before; it's so easy to have a good time

definitely have to try all the new seasonal items. he's a big eater, so i can get a taste of everything without having to worry about food waste hehe

new years eve!! definitely a little party with everyone and a hot spring get-away trip the day after to start into the new year relaxed and cozy is a tradition by now

preferences: i love this season for the winter, less for christmas. always love the snow, the pale blues, winter sunshine, new years eve, snow, cozy cuddle sessions :>

i couldn't resist to include my selfship art hehe @/catyypss

THE WAY I WAS SO EXCITED FOR THIS ASK. Listen you know you and Ume is one of my favorite ships ever. So I absolutely RAN at the opputunity to do this.

I love how well you and Ume compliment eachother, you balance eachother out so perfectly and its so beautiful. You ground him and he pulls you out of your comfort zone a bit and I love love love it.

You know that this is canon absolutely 100 percent. You, me, Ume, and Suo have our double date nights always. I tried to keep more of a winter theme for this one with a little sprinkle of holiday. I hope you like it my beloved Winter!! ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭

Suprise! A little drabble for you ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

Umemiya hummed happily, holding your ankle as he removed your boots, sliding your foot into the skates. Languidly lacing them for you, pressing a kiss to each of your knees as he completed his task.

“How’s that baby? Not too tight right?”

He beams when you confirm they were laced appropriately, going to work putting on his own skates before going to touch your shoes in the cubby. He wouldn’t lie, he was a bit nervous, having never skated before himself. But, when you had told him your love for it, how could he possibly not set this up? Umemiya would do anything to make you smile, even if that meant making a fool of himself. As he approached you once more, he offered you his signature smile and a hand as you both made your way to the ice, already feeling a bit unsteady on his feet.

“Okay, angel, you just gotta promise me you wont laugh at me too much when I do eventually bust my as, okay?”

He laughs, awarded with the melodic sound of your laughter, gasping playfully when you shoot back a ‘no promises, Haji’. Dramatically spalling a hand over his chest in mock offense.

“Fine then, I’m tasking you with the safety of my butt, my love.”

He hangs onto the guardrails, perfectly content in watching from the sidelines at the graceful way you glide along the ice. You were always nothing less than stunning in his eyes, but seeing you so in your element had him falling in love with you all over again. He smiled when you approached him once more, taking his hands in yours as you pulled him aways from the wall. He was fine for a while, keeping steady on his feet. However he got too cock, deciding to move on his own.

Big mistake.

He felt his skate slide against the slippery surface of the ice, grabbing your waist for balance only to bring you down with him. Yelping as he went sown, lading flat on his ass, gripping onto you so he took the brunt of the fall. Your eyes wide in shock from the loss of balance, looking up at him with concern flashing across your features.

“Shit, Haji are you okay?”

Your concerned tone is met with a loud peal of laughter. Just smiling up at you before he pulls you down, placing a sweet kiss to your lips before the two of you fumble to stand. Once you secure your balance once more he rubs the back of his neck.

“I guess I need more practice, huh?”

[iboatedhere]

TK brings his hands to his mouth to cover a yawn, barely missing the sharp, unimpressed gaze of Mrs. Kozlov. 

He’s only picked Izzy up from class a handful of times, and aside from the initial— my name is TK Strand, Mrs. Vega called and gave the okay for me to pick Izzy up— interaction, he’s never actually held a conversation with the woman. But somehow, some way, he’s managed to draw the ire of the five-foot-nothing, sexagenarian ballet teacher. 

She’s good at what she does, clearly, and she’s been dancing since Russia was still The Soviet Union. He’s never heard a bad word about her from Izzy or Captain Vega or even Carlos, who picks Izzy up occasionally. 

But TK doubts Carlos would say anything bad about the woman. Or, more realistically, he doubts anyone would have anything bad to say about Carlos. 

So, it’s just TK, avoiding eye contact and hiding behind the other adults here to pick up their kid while Mrs. Kozlov walks Izzy and her classmates through the final cool-down stretches of class. 

“And remember,” Mrs. Kozlov says as she walks through the perfectly organized rows of students that are sitting on the floor touching their toes, “I expect you all to be at least thirty minutes early for your recital on Saturday.”

She gives TK a pointed look, even though this is the first time he’s heard of a recital and will one hundred percent not be the person getting Izzy to it, thirty minutes early or not. 

In a sick twist of fate, his phone buzzes in his pocket and Mrs. Kozlov clears her throat and rolls her eyes. 

“Cell phones off in my ballet studio, please,” she snips and TK feels his face flush as he angles his body away and looks at the screen. 

Picked up Evie, Carlos’ text reads, headed your way.

TK sends him a quick thumbs up then shoves his phone deep into his pocket as Mrs. Kozlov finally dismisses the class. She disappears back into her office almost immediately after and TK finally feels confident enough to cut through the crowd toward Izzy who is sitting on the floor, digging through her bag for a pair of sweatpants and sneakers. 

“She really hates you now,” Izzy says as she toes off her ballet slippers and tucks them carefully inside the duffle. 

“That was Carlos’ fault this time. He was the one that texted me.”

“She loves Carlos.”

“That line forms behind me,” TK says as Izzy stands to pull sweatpants on over her tights and steps into her unlaced sneakers. “Tie those,” he instructs and she rolls her eyes. “I’m serious. The last thing I need is you tripping in here and Mrs. Kozlov thinking that I pushed you or something.”

Izzy rolls her eyes and drops back to the floor with a huff, something she keeps doing as she makes a show of tying her shoes. 

TK doesn’t take the attitude personally. She’s on the precipice of being a teen, and he was certainly raising more hell at her age. 

“Happy?” Izzy asks as she shows him her double knotted shoes and TK nods.

“Extremely.” 

He reaches down with both hands and counts it as a major win when she lets herself be helped to her feet. 

She pops up with all the grace of a dancer then hauls her bag over her shoulder.

“My mom already left for her date?”

TK nods. “Carlos picked your sister up from the dojang and they’re on their way to pick us up so we can take you guys home.”

“Is mom going to be out all night?”

“Uhh…” TK stalls, not entirely comfortable thinking of the reasons why his boss would be gone all night. “I don’t think so,” he settles on. “But she did give us money to get pizza for dinner.”

Izzy sighs as TK holds the door open for her. “We had pizza three days ago.”

“We can get something else. Carlos and I aren’t picky.”

She shrugs, but TK knows she’s not forfeiting the decision to her sister, and it’ll probably be a whole thing where they bicker back and forth and Carlos will have to step in to deescalate the situation. 

“Do you know where my mom went?”

“I don’t know for sure,” TK says. “Out to dinner but I’m not sure where.”

Izzy nods and TK gives her a sidelong look as she purposefully drags the toe of her sneaker against the sidewalk as they walk. 

“How are you feeling about that?” He asks, feeling like he’s wading into a minefield, again, except this time there’s real danger.  “Your mom and Pastor Parks? Do you like him?”

Izzy shrugs again. “He’s our pastor. I can’t dislike our pastor.”

TK makes an unsure sound. “I know Carlos doesn’t have too many warm and fuzzy feelings toward the priest he had as a kid and there was a rabbi at the temple that I went to that always smelled like burnt cheese so I think there’s some wiggle room for criticism.”

Izzy smiles but ducks her head to hide it. 

“He’s nice,” she says. “He brings us dessert back.”

“That is nice,” TK agrees, wondering if he and Carlos can get in on that since they’re babysitting. “But I meant—.”

He’s interrupted by Carlos’ laugh sounding from the opposite street corner. Evie is laughing too, and TK can’t tell who said what to make it happen but it’s a stark contrast to the mood on his side of the street. 

The light changes and the walk signal flashes and Evie reaches for Carlos’ hand before they cross the street. 

Their smiles grow when they spot TK and Izzy, and Carlos leans in to kiss his cheek even though they saw each other a half an hour ago. 

“Hi,” Carlos says softly, checking in before he turns to Izzy. “Did you have a good class?”

Izzy nods. “Mrs. Kozlov is going to kill TK.”

Carlos’ eyes widen. “What did you do this time?”

“You texted me,” TK says, poking a finger into Carlos’ chest. “I was going unnoticed until that.”

“It’s impossible not to notice you,” Carlos says quickly and TK rolls his eyes. 

[appeal-ff]

[APPEAL-2]: Chapter 2// Issa Date

CADE

"I don't have time for this shit," I grumbled as I walked into rented office space, downtown L.A. It was almost 10pm on a Sunday night and all I wanted to do was crawl back into my big ass bed.

"Finally! The champ is here!" That was Trell's loud mouth ass. I only smacked my lips before giving dabs to a few of the late night workers. I watched as Trell inhaled smoke from the fat blunt before passing it my way.

Fuck it, I'm already here.

I took a long pull before passing it back to him.

"What was the big emergency, my nigga?" I asked once all of the smoke cleared from my vision.

"Bodies dropping, my nigga... that's the big emergency." My face contorted as I looked at some of the workers for confirmation. They nodded in agreeance before letting out deep sighs.

I met Trell in the corner office and took a seat beside him on the black couch.

"What--"

"Two of our young niggaz got got. One on 98th Street and the other on 53rd Road." He shook his head after he was finished speaking. Confusion was the only emotion on my face as I tried to make sense of what the fuck he just relayed to me.

"How in the fuck are our people dropping if they're supposed to be strapped?!" I suddenly boomed as I jumped up from my seat on the couch.

"Calm down nigga. This is exactly why I told your behind the scenes ass that we need to have our men double up. I knew some shit was brewing. I felt it in my knee." I didn't want to laugh, but when he patted his right knee I allowed the chuckles to seep through.

"This ain't no laughing matter, C-man. We gotta send packages to the young homies families. Shit ain't gonna bring em back, but they families still gotta eat. I think one of the niggaz got a kid, too." My jaw clenched after hearing that. A lof of the niggaz working our corners had kids, and that shit hit a lil closer for me.

"Aight man, give they families whatever they need. Do we at least know which crew is coming at us?" I was seated beside him again as I searched his ugly ass face for answers.

"Word on road is there's some East coast nigga in town named 'H'. What type of bullshit ass name is that?" He shook his head while I chuckled lowly. "None of these other crews would dare come after us. They respected Cole too much to fuck with his operation. He fed a lot of those niggaz when we had too much product on our hand to move." I nodded in agreeance. It's only been two years since Cole was killed, but niggaz could have came after us then.

Was an out town nigga really plucking our men off?

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

It was Monday morning and I was parked outside of Sonya's luxury apartment building, just waiting for her and Amir to come downstairs. I was tired as shit since I didn't get in until after midnight, and had to be up less than six hours later to get myself ready.

It didn't matter how tired I was-- I was not missing my lil man's first day of pre-K.

I quickly tossed my phone into the cup holder once I seen Amir running up to my truck.

"Daddy! Look, I got shoes like you!" I chuckled as I watched him place his baby foot next to mine. He was wearing the black Balenciaga sneakers that I got him a few days ago, when I went shopping with him and his mom.

I just so happened to be wearing my black Balenciaga sneakers as well-- though mine were paired with some 'KITH' sweatpants, and Amir rocked black jeans and a simple Prada t-shirt. My twin was swagged the fuck out, ya hear me?

"Hi, beautiful, how are you?" I tried to kiss her cheek but she swerved my shit before quickly walked over to the passenger side of the car. I groaned before picking up a clueless Amir, and strapping him into the car seat in the middle of the car.

"What's the issue now, Sonya? Damn, I swear it's everyday with you." I easily pulled out onto the street and began the familiar trip to Mcdonalds. I was starving, and my lil man needed food in his system for his first day. If Sonya lost the sour attitude then maybe I'd get her a hashbrown.

"It's funny how you claim you want to be with me, and be a family with me and your son. But when I invite you over, you leave my shit on read? You're hella weird."

"Sonya, please--"

"No, Cade, let me cook. You're always preaching this togetherness shit but you really don't want to be together. You just want to fuck on me every three business days."

I waited until I pulled behind the car in the Mcdonalds drive thru before finally placing my vision on her. "Stop cursing in front of Amir, I'm tired of telling you that."

She opened her mouth to respond but I beat her to it. "I was caught up at the office last night, aight? Two kids that work for me got off'd, and I--"

"Oh my goodness, I am so sorry Cade." She now wore this pout on her face as she laid her head against the passenger window. "How are you taking it?"

"I'm aight, Son Bon. One of them had a kid, though, so that part was messing with me. We making sure is family taken care of though. All while tryna figure out who is coming for us."

"Please be safe, Cade... you and Trell. I wish you would just walk away from that dark ass life." I rolled my eyes before turning front and applying gas to the car. It was now my time to order.

I ordered Sonya and my meal immediately, as our order was identical and has not changed in the last four years. I decided on the kiddie pancake platter for Amir, and then we were on the way to the daycare.

SONYA

Cade was shaking his head as I wiped the million and one tears that fell from my eyes. "Come on, Sonya, you do this shit every year." He tugged on my elbow as an attempt to get me from my cemented position in the daycare's hallway.

Amir disappeared into his class a few minutes ago but it's like I could not move from my stance. "It's not funny, Cade! That's my only baby." I began tearing up again as I stared aimlessly down the hallway. My fair-skin babyfather was in stiches as he leaned up against a bulletin board.

I finally gathered myself before walking past his insensitive ass.

"What you about to do? You want me to drop you home or--"

"I actually need to head with you to the office. Amber and I have a spa date, and she's already at the office with Trell." Ignoring the 'I beg your pardon?' ass look he was sending me, I walked over to the passenger side of the car and waited for him to unlock the doors.

It wasn't until I strapped my seatbelt across my chest when I realized he was still muggin my shit. As if I owed him rent money or some shit. "Yes, Cade?" I huffed. My emotions were all over the place from leaving my baby at the daycare, so he needed to not fuck with me this morning.

"You know I don't like you down at the office., Sonya. Why can't Amber just meet you at the spa? Where the spa at? I'll drop you."

"Cade, no, Amber is already waiting for me at the office and--"

"And do I give a fuck?"

I pinched the shit out of his arm and smiled in accomplishment at the sound of his bitch ass groans. "Watch ya mouth, Cade and let's go."

xxx

I was seated in Cade's office as I waited for Amber to finish speaking with Trell. The two offices here were made of glass, so I was literally looking across the room at Trell's office as he and Amber discussed God knows what.

I could feel Cade's eyes on me.

Strange, because his laptop was open and he was typing, yet he could still stare into my soul.

"I wanna take you out tonight. See if Shazelly can watch Amir and tell her I'll bless her cashapp." He chuckled, while I found nothing funny at all. Cade did this thing where he swore he was the only nigga in my life, and I had nothing better to do than go out with him whenever he decided to take me out.

"Cant, I'm busy." That was a lie, but I didn't care. I needed to put some boundaries between Mr. Cade and I. There clearly weren't any, and I was to fault for that as well. All of those late night sex link-ups really muddied this co-parenting thing that we were doing.

"You're not busy, Sonya," he paused his typing to laugh out loud. I ignored his laughter and only checked my email on my phone. Although I was currently a stay at home mom, and have been one since Amir's birth... I was considering going back to school.

I'm not sure if nursing is the route I still want to take, but I will be meeting with some college counselors to discuss my future.

"Hello, earth to baddie Sonya."

"What happen?" I locked my phone after not seeing a response email from any of the counselors I emailed a few days ago.

"I said I'm taking you to Nobu-- I know you love it there and you want their yellowtail in your mouth, bad." I crossed my legs once I seen him lick over his rosy lips.

You see what I mean by lack of boundaries?

Somehow I agreed to this 'date', and now had to check my younger sister's availability to babysit-- as well as add shopping onto my errands list today.

"Fine, but you're picking up Amir from school. I have to find a dress and--"

"That ain't no problem. He gets out at 2, right?" I nodded as I quickly sent out the message to Shazelly. She responded rather quickly and told me to bring her nephew whenever, she would be at her apartment all day.

Sitter secured.

Next would be the dress.

[idiotwithanipad]

Grief: Humphrey

A alternative of this:

Alison and Mike made one of their annual stays at Button House, their old family home, now a bustling hotel. They made their cheerful greetings with the receptionist and parted ways with a smile, Mike headed off to the kitchen to greet his old friend, now a member of the kitchen staff, while Alison headed up to the Higham Suite to greet her old friends. 

She pushed the door open, optimistic to see the old faces again, but as she stepped inside, their faces were withdrawn and sullen. They sat in silence with their heads bowed, like somebody had died. 

"Hi... Guys? What's wrong?" Alison brushed her greying hair from her brow and placed her suitcase down at her side. Robin dropped his hand from the front of his furs and treaded over to Alison. His brow arched and his lips parted to speak. 

“Stompy..go up to the stars last night…” Robin explained, mournfully. He blinked back tears and set his jaw as Pat’s hand came up to rub against his back. Alison’s eyes widened and she cracked her jaw open.

“Amy? You mean Amy’s gone?” Alison asked, shocked. The group all nodded and sighed, Robin turned away from Alison and grit his teeth.

“We were all having such fun, but then she- just disappeared…” Kitty remembered, her tears brimming. Alison looked amongst everyone and gawked as though her tongue had been caught in a mouse trap. 

“But- she’d only been here for five years..how would she?-“ 

“It happen straight away sometime. Other time it take long time…” Robin explained, his gritty voice seemed laced with sadness. Alison still couldn’t grasp the thought of such a recent ghost suddenly just leaving without a trace.

“But she was-…where’s Humphrey?” Alison fretted as she looked between everybody. The group all seemed to draw in breaths at the mention of the nobleman. Fanny and The Captain practically bowed their heads. 

"Guys, where is he?" Alison asked again, more stern. Fanny stepped forward, her hands clasped tightly at her middle. 

"He's in the library, Alison. He wished not to be disturbed, given the nature of their bond..." Fanny spoke, solemnly. 

The ghosts each nodded, understanding, yet not quite grasping the pain which coursed through Humphrey's heart. How long would it be before one of them shrugged off his mourning and used him as a football or a piñata? Smacked him around like a deflated balloon? He wanted to remain alone, because that's what he was used to. 

The strange girl had checked in with her mother five years ago, completely and blissfully unaware of her ghostly visitors. He had once again, been neglected underneath the East Wing bedroom's bed. His lone head seeing nothing but shoes come and go from the room. 

One pair in particular caused him to do a double take; the thick soles making him wonder how it felt to walk on shoes that bulky. Did it hurt? Would you trip over yourself? If your foot slipped to the side, would you break your ankle? 

After a long and dull afternoon of resting idly under the bed, dust gathering around him, he saw the boots enter the room. Whoever wore them took a seat on the bed as they dangled a few inches from the wooden floorboards. The crack of a can soon followed. Then silence. Then came a coughing, and a gagging, and a gasping. 

The boots staggered to the floor again, and tried to make their way to the door, only for their wearer to stumble back and fall to the floor. He still couldn't see who it was from his position, but he could hear them. The familiar sound of a soul leaving their body. He kept his eyes peeled for any sign of light. 

But all that came was a replica of those huge boots twitching and peeling themselves away from their dead shell. He'd called out and cheerfully introduced himself, but the young girl dressed from head to toe in strange, dark clothing, only gawked at him in horror and shuffled back away from the bed. 

That was their first meeting. An unfortunate one, but one that started their long time of getting to know each other. Humphrey hadn't been neglected as much after she came along. He was never left of the stone floor, or forgotten about on a bookshelf, or kicked, smacked or thrown. She wouldn't have it. 

She'd taught him many things, and he'd taught her much more. He truly felt like she was the daughter he never had. Now she was gone, a distant memory scattered to the winds. 

"Alright. You stay here. I need to go find him" Alison spoke, stepping towards the door. They each nodded and bit their lips, briefly, Robin Rose his furred hand up to his face and wiped at his eye. 

Alison made her way downstairs and avoided eye contact with anyone just in case they struck up a conversation. Luckily, the library laid dormant, except for the Tudor, settled on the window seat, staring down at the floor. 

Alison slowed down and knocked her knuckle against one of the bookshelves. 

"Humphrey? It's Alison..." She called to him gently. He looked up and pointed his finger, seemingly about to dismiss her. 

"It's alright, Humphrey. It's just me. I told the others not to bother us..." 

Humphrey's hand dropped back down to his lap, lifelessly.

"I suppose you know then?..." He asked, quietly, his gaze returning to the ground. Alison stepped closer, sliding her hands into her trouser pockets. 

"I do" She confirmed, sadly. 

The Tudor's brow creased and his lip twitched. 

"She's gone..." 

Alison stood at Humphrey's side, looking down at him with sincere pity. 

"She actually joined in for that Karaoke thing last night. For the first time, she sung in front of us. Then- whoosh..." He articulated with an upward flourish of his hands before he dropped them back down. Alison nodded, she closed her eyes; the hurt in his voice was nothing short of heartbreaking. 

If he wasn't a ghost, Alison would've patted him on the shoulder or hugged him. 

"Humphrey- Amy's in a better place now-" 

"How can you be sure? She'd had a lot of painful moments in her life, she told me she liked it 'ere, what if the people who caused the pain are where she is now? What if I can't 'elp 'er?!" He fretted, pinching at his brow. 

"I would've bared the burden for 'er, I really would-..." Humphrey choked up, he leant forward and dropped his head into his hands. 

Alison paused, the foreign sound of the once chatty and beaming Tudor, though occasionally just a talking head, reduced to tears was gut wrenching. 

"I know, Humphrey" Alison comforted, sitting down beside him on the window seat. She held her hands in her lap and stared ahead, unable to imagine the pain Humphrey felt; only in nightmares had she ever lost Mia, she couldn't bare to think what the real ordeal would be like. 

Humphrey righted himself and leaned back, his hands still clutching his head until he was upright; supporting it so that it didn't drop off his shoulders and thump to the floor between his feet. A lone yet heavy tear trickled down his cheek, he never bothered to swipe it away. 

"I know you loved her, Humphrey" Alison spoke, nodding slowly. 

"Like she was my own..." He retorted. Alison clasped her hands together and looked over at him. 

"The others are struggling too-" Alison was about to continue before Humphrey's hands fell down sloppily against his knee. 

"Oh, that's right. Those with legs struggle the most, don't they?" Humphrey spat, venom boiling in his voice. 

"They don't get batted around like a football all day, do they? What do they know? Amy was more to me than a friend. She was- there. She helped me out, a lot. Even when she COULDN'T find my stupid body, she kept me company" Humphrey mourned, before raising his brows and flicking his eyes toward the ceiling. 

"That lot would just place me somewhere and go along their merry way. I could be in the same place for weeks, did anyone even stop to say hello? No they didn't" Humphrey grumbled, tears forming in his eyes again. 

"But Amy did. She took the time to talk to a washed up old bloke like me"

Alison froze, feeling torn between her able bodied friends upstairs and the grieving Tudor. 

"Aside from Kitty and the Savage, none of the others paid Amy any mind. The Captain and Lady B even chastised Amy for her clothes, a lot." Humphrey growled, doing his best to grip at the edge of the window seat. His blood still boiled over the one comment thrown at Amy by The Captain. 'A juvenile delinquent with the attitude of a harpy'.

Alison didn't want to believe that there had been misunderstandings and judgement between the group at any point in time, but the depth in Humphrey's voice made any slither of hope wave from Alison's mind. 

"But they-" Alison started, before Humphrey cut her off. 

"No... I won't hear it" He rose from the window seat and approached the bookshelf to their left. A book had been set at an awkward angle and had fallen slightly, leaning at an angle which created a sheltering space between the book and the shelf. 

Alison watched as Humphrey reached his hand up and clutched his hair, pulling his head from his body and placing it up underneath the leaning book, his face out of sight, his hair facing the rest of the world. 

"What are you doing?" Alison asked as she got to her feet and rushed to the shelf.

"Tell that lot to save their tears, they ain't got the right to shed 'em..." Humphrey said, slowly, coldly and full of pain. Alison could tell their conversation was done; she'd scarcely get anywhere with him in this state, not that she could blame him. 

Without another word, Alison slowly turned and walked away as the customary ten seconds had passed, Humphrey's body shifted into 'roaming' mode, when it became aware of it's missing head and wandered aimlessly. 

Just as Alison reached the doorway to the silent library, she could barely hear the sound of Humphrey's mournful sobs and sniffles from where his head remained hidden beneath the book. 

"Well? Did he say anything, is he alright?" Pat asked, hope brimming behind his spectacles, yet still very much as depressed as the others. Alison gently closed the door behind her, unable to make eye contact with any of them. The group waited with baited breath. 

"He misses Amy, so much" Alison commented. 

"But he doesn't want to talk yet. He still needs time, its- it's a big loss for him" Alison nodded. The rest of them agreed and blinked back their tears. 

"Yes. It is a big loss, we'll all miss Amy" Kitty said, voice crackling with sadness. 

Later that , while the ghosts and Mike slept, Alison sat up in bed. She couldn't bring herself to sleep. But the soft sound of footsteps outside her room alerted her even more. They were slow, clumsy, almost like a drunk with tape stuck over their eyes. 

She recognized them. She headed over to the door and opened up slowly, carefully, trying not to wake her friends or Mike. Down the hall, hobbled Humphrey's headless body. It made it's way through the corridors to get to the East Wing. 

Alison bundled her dressing gown tighter around herself and followed quietly, watching it's every move. The headless body bumbled it's way to the East Wing, seemingly on a mission. 

The East Wing bedroom lie unoccupied, the headless Tudor passing through the door with ease. Alison bent down and peered through the keyhole to make sure there were no sleeping guests. She tried to foorhandle. Locked. 

As she peered back through the keyhole, just for a moment, she made out the shape of the Tudor's body lingering, his hands braced before itself as if expecting to fall at any point. It's upper body shifting forward as if trying to see something at its feet, and it's arms dropped lower. 

It took some time, but Alison managed to get her aching body to an angle where she could see what the body was doing. It stood, by the bottom right bed post, seemingly facing the wooden floorboards beneath it. Over the spot where Amy had died. 

[redqueenphoenix]

State Championship (TWD Fan Fic Part 2)

State Championship Part 2

(A TWD Fan Fiction)

I do not own any of the rights to The Walking Dead, nor do I own any of the characters mentioned from here on in, other than Victoria Hawkins. Some situations have been changed and some people may have been switched in this alternate universe. 

All characters in this fan fiction are over the age of 21 years old.

Coach Negan Smith X Female OC

Word Count: 1697

~*~

Victoria’s mind still reeled as they pulled into the parking lot of the college that state championships were being held. Negan still stayed at the front of the bus as they came to a stop. 

“Alright, ladies it’s game time. Let’s give ‘em hell.” Negan said as he smacked the back of the seat he was standing at. “We have one shot at this. Be on your game!” He made his way over to his gym bag looking at Victoria with a devil’s smirk. 

Reaching across the seats, she grabbed her gym bag and waited to get off the bus with the rest of her team. As she made eye contact with Coach Negan her lips began to tingle from the encounter a little bit ago. She followed as the doors to the bus opened in the parking lot of the state college. 

“Holy shit.” Barbie gasped as she took in the massive amount of cars that were in the parking lot to watch them play. “This is insane.”

“Yeah it is. This is like triple what comes to our home games.” Samantha laughed as her eyes got wide.

“It's the state championships. We’re here because we are in the finals. We have one team to stomp before we take that title home, ladies.” Negan laughed, “don’t get distracted.”

“Yeah, Victoria. Don’t get distracted.” Barbie laughed as she nudged her friend's arm. 

“Let’s go ladies.” Coach Negan motioned for them to follow him into the double doors of the building to the gymnasium that they were going to compete in. 

Victoria pointed to the locker room with their home banner on it. “In here ladies. We got ten minutes to game time.” She sighed in relief as she was able to put a bit of distance between Negan and her. That kiss fried her circuits and it was all she could think about for the rest of the trip. She had to get out of that mindframe and get in the game. This game couldn’t get away from her over a stupid kiss.

The team made their way in dropping their bags and started getting ready for the game. Barbie, Samantha and Aubrie naturally made their way over to Victoria. 

“So…” Barbie grinned as she slipped her gym clothes out of her bag, “what’s the special game plan that Coach had to talk to you about?”

Instantly Victoria’s cheeks turned red as she turned away from the girls. “Normal game plan.”

“Yeah, fuckin’ right.” Samantha squealed as she caught the blush. “You didn’t even talk about a game plan. You and the coach were neckin’!”

Victoria threw her shirt at Samantha, “so what. I’m an adult!” She grabbed her gym shirt, slipping it on and tying it off in the back with a ponytail holder. 

“Don’t get defensive, Tori, save that for the game.” Aubrie laughed as she finished changing and was slipping on her gym shoes. “It’s fine,” She shot a look at Barbie and Samantha, “as long as you're both happy and single, you're golden! Do what you do.”

“Wait, is Coach single?” Barbie asked as she tied her hair back.

Victoria’s eyes went wide, she’s never seen a ring nor has there been anyone come in to see him while he was working. But she knew nothing of his personal life. “Oh, my god…” She gasped as she touched her lips.

Samantha burst out laughing, “you seriously think I would let you ruin your life like that. He’s single. I did my research.”

Victoria sighed in relief as she finished getting ready, slipping into her gym shorts, gym shoes and tying her hair back. She felt a sudden surge of energy as she heard music start up in the gym. “Ladies, we got this!” Her voice carried over the chaos of the locker room. 

The ladies cheered and jumped around as they hyped themselves up. Heading for the door as they heard their team was announced. 

Victoria was the first out the door with her famous smile and bubbly personality as she led her team to their side of the court. 

Coach Negan was sitting on the bottom of the bleachers with a clipboard when they ran out. Standing he cheered with the rest of the crowd, heading over to the girls. “You guys got this. Their best player isn’t here today. Some sort of injury.” He stepped back to the sidelines to watch as the ladies took their side of the court. 

The music pulsed as the other team took their places as well, heading to the net to shake Victoria’s hand along with her team before the game began.

The game was down to the wire as Victoria and her team huffed and played their hardest, giving them the point lead. Out of the corner of her eye she kept seeing Coach Negan pacing the sideline like a caged animal. She held her position in the front while the opposing team got ready to serve. 

“Trash.” The blonde in front of her snarled over the net. “You play like trash.”

Victoria’s jaw fell open as the comment slid into her ears. The woman in front of her was one of those chai tea starbucks types. She assumed that she was on the team because her daddy paid for her. This boiled Victoria’s blood as she worked her ass off to get where she was. 

The ball sailed over the net towards the middle of the court, Barbie ran for it, bumping it back up into the air towards Aubrie. 

Victoria smirked at the girl as Aubrie set her up perfectly. Using the anger she felt to her advantage as she ran for the ball, spiking it hard over the net. The satisfying noise of the blonde’s scream made her smile.

“Oh my god! Stephanie!” One of the other ladies yelled as the blonde landed on her ass holding her now bleeding nose. 

“Game!” The referee yelled as the ball rolled on the other side of the court. 

“That’s my fuckin’ girl!” Coach Negan yelled from the sidelines as they took the game. Jogging to the team that surrounded Victoria and pushed his way to her.

“We won?” Victoria’s face was one of complete disbelief, she thought surely what she just did was a foul. The girls rushed her and cheered around her. “How the hell did we win?”

“That blonde girl tried to back up to hit it and it bounced back from her hands. We fuckin’ won!” Samantha yelled as she jumped around. 

Flashes went off in the crowd as the referee motioned for Coach Negan and Victoria to walk over to accept the trophy. As they held it up everyone cheered and yelled for them. 

A local news reporter came over who was covering the match with a smile, “how does it feel to have the state championship title?” He shoved a microphone into Victoria’s face.

Victoria beamed as she looked over to Negan and her team, “we wouldn’t be here without our wonderful Coach! This feeling is amazing!”

He turned the microphone to Coach Negan as he motioned her off to her team with the trophy so they could have their pictures taken. 

After about a dozen or so pictures the girls finally made their way to the locker room. The energy of the team was through the roof as they chattered and changed into their street clothes.

“You knocked her on her ass.” Barbie said as she shipped her shirt on. “What the hell did she say to you? I can tell you aimed that shit at her face.”

“She said I played like trash.” Victoria laughed as she slipped her jeans back on. She pulled her hair down and shook it out.

“Get out, that preppy whore?” Samantha chuckled, “If anyone played like trash it was her with her daddy’s money. She had no talent.” She slipped her street shoes on. 

Aubrie peeked around the corner of the lockers, “I know this is totally off topic, but do we know where we are staying tonight?”

“Some hotel. Bet you it’s gonna be shady as hell too.” Barbie laughed as she stuffed her clothes back in her bag.

Victoria rolled her eyes as she finished dressing and slipped her headphone back around her neck. “Well either way, I’m grateful we don’t have to sit on that bus for two more hours.”

“True that!” Samantha chimed in as she grabbed her bag, “we should do something tonight to celebrate.”

Aubrie checked her hair in the mirror, “like what?”

“See what the night life is like here!” Samantha said as she smirked, “we’re all old enough to see if the clubs here are any better than back home.

“I don’t know about that.” Victoria gave a very questioning look to her friends. 

“Fuckin’ live a little girl, or are you worried you’d upset Coach Daddy.” Barbie grinned as she grabbed her bag, “I’m in!”

“I’ll think about it.” Victoria laughed as she made her way out of the locker room with the team in line.

“That’s what I’m fuckin’ talkin’ about. You ladies killed it!” Coach Negan beamed as he walked out and headed to the bus as a group. 

“Told you we would.” Victoria smirked, “did you doubt me?”

“Not for a moment, doll.” He motioned for her to get on the bus. 

Victoria chuckled to herself as she tossed her bag into the seat it was before and slid back into the seat where Coach Negan was sitting with her. She noticed that his lips tugged into a devilish grin watching where she sat. 

As the ladies all settled in, Negan leaned into the bus driver and told him where to go. Leaning against the first seat up in the front, glancing back at Victoria with a smile.

~*~

Part 3

[starryhoonie]

party favor | c. soobin

—

angst,, established relationship,, 2nd person pov,, lmk if i missed anything

word count: 654

like and reblog!

a/n: smth short and sad sorry ><

—

Things have been tense between you and Soobin as of late. His work keeps him from you most of the time, and when you do see each other it feels dull, like he’s a stranger. The sun was set as you sat staring out the window of your apartment, watching the city lights allowing your mind to wander. It’s your birthday today, you received a mirriad of messages from family members and colleagues wishing you well, but what did it all matter when Soobin hasn’t acknowledged you all day. You cradle your cold legs as you concoct excuses in your mind. Maybe he has a surprise for you or this is all one big prank. Delusion was not a good look for you. 

You snap out of your thoughts when the sound of knocking rings through your ears, your light steps carry you to the door as you swing it open to be met by your boyfriend. He smiles and kisses your forehead making his way into the place.

“Hey baby, just wanted to see you. It's been such a long day, rehearsals ran late and I had a language lesson I almost missed and I met up…” he trails on and makes his way to the kitchen to grab a drink. 

Something catches his eye and he points to the vase on your counter holding carnations.

“Where did those come from?” 

“My dad sent them to me” you smile to yourself as you think of the sweet letter he sent you along with it

“Why?” he chuckles “What's the occasion?”

Your smile falters, his words confirming your suspicions. He really did forget. 

“It’s my birthday…” 

Soobin turns to you, face filled with confusion.

“You're messing with me..” he lets out a cautious laugh.

When you don’t say anything, giving him a blank stare his heart drops, rushing to you quickly reaching for your hand. 

“Baby I- I’m so sorry-”

You yank your hand back, giving him a hurt look. 

“Are you serious” your voice dripping with disgust. 

Just a couple months ago he wouldn’t stop raving about how excited he was for your birthday, how he would shower you in gifts and affection. Now he stands in your home completely oblivious to the event searching for an answer for his forgetfulness. 

“You forgot my birthday…” you say in a barely audible tone, looking at the floor. 

He trips over his words and fumbles with his hands not sure how to approach this. Looking up at him, as tears threaten to fall from your eyes, voice wavering a bit. 

“I just been so busy I lost track of the days, I-I I’m sorry” as you stand silently not knowing what to say, what do you say when your boyfriend forgets your birthday? 

Your silence makes him nervous, as he begins to say anything, words spilling out like water. 

“It’s not my fault I work so hard to please you, I do all of this for you” You give him a look of disbelief. Still staying silent, he doubles down. 

“You don’t appreciate all I do for you” Is he seriously turning this on you?  So hurt you feel a pang of ache in your heart; You want to snap back and call out his bullshit, but you can’t seem to. Turning your back to him holding onto the counter for support as your knees get weak, the sting of tears in your ducts.

“Well maybe it would be better if we went our separate ways” you said in almost a whisper, still loud enough for Soobin to hear. His hands shaking, mouth opening to say something but nothing. He knows he messed up. With your back turned you only hear the knock of Soobins shoes hitting the floor as it gets fainter by the second, and the eventual click of the shutting door. You fall to your knees as tears stream down your face. 

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

Ohhhkay

So its been an eventful hour

My mom forgot there was a guy coming over to measure the windows again

My dad wasn't home to handle chewby so I had to get her up into her kennel while the guy was measuring the back door

Then I had to come into my room and move anything I wouldn't want knocked over off my desk and open the curtains....where harley was hiding cuz strange person in the house+dog barking=Very Scary situation for harleys

So she ran past me and out of my room. Wasnt sure where she went but I had an anxious pitbull to keep company and harley prefers to be left alone when scared anyway

My dad came home while the guy was measuring my window so chewby started checking her kennel door for weak points for a jailbreak

She found one but was able to restrain herself

It probably helped that I was sitting right outside the door

Dude finally leaves so I let chewby out of the kennel

Harley is not upstairs

Great

Go downstairs and find chewby like this

I may know where harley is

She may be in the chair

GREAT

So I go get a tennis ball

And I put my shoes on

And I get chewby out from under the table and put her harness on her

She keeps trying to go back under the table cuz her best friend* is in a chair and she is Concerned™️ and also wants to play

Get her leash and convince her to go outside with me for a walk (which I was planning on doing anyway before the window guy showed up)

She keeps glancing back at the house the entire time like she's expecting to see harley

She does not

Harley is inside

We walk down to the bridge and back. I experimented with using a ball as a reward for loose leash walking instead of treats

Ball may be too exciting of a reward. She gets excited for treats but not Ball Excited.

I was walking a Bouncing Pitbull.

Who also kept circling me and wrapping me up in the leash and almost tripping me

Alright ball is not gonna work as a reward on walks

Noted

We get near the yard so I have her sit and I drop the leash and throw the ball into the yard for her

Sat on the porch and texted my dad to see if harley was out yet

Ok

Probably safe to let the dog inside

Chewby immediately goes to the chair to look for the cat (while still chewing on the ball)

I look in the chair just to double check

She is indeed not in the chair anymore

Cool. Good.

My mom informs me that she hasn't seen her come upstairs at all

......cool.

Look around downstairs

Don't see her anywhere

I go down to the basement to move my laundry into the dryer and look around a bit for her

The lighting sucks down there and theres a lot of junk so if she is down there its where I cant see her

Great great great

Shes probably not down here

Go look around upstairs

Check all her usual hiding places

Shes not in any of them

Check any other places I think she could hide in

Not there either

OKAY

So mercedes magical cat power was teleportation

Apparently harleys is turning invisible

Lovely

Realize I didn't take my anxiety meds this morning

Get those from downstairs and some more tea

Come back to my room and open the window

Decide to just wait

She couldn't have left the house

All the moving around probably isn't helping her be less scared

Sure enough after a couple minutes I hear her tiptoeing into my room

I get her a meaty stick cuz I figured she could use a treat after all that

Have to move very slowly so I don't spook her again

Laid very still in bed while she ate her snack

She spent about 5 minutes kneading her paws on my chest and purring

Still not sure where she was hiding

Just gonna chalk it up to she turned invisible

*harley does NOT share this sentiment. Chewby has yet to catch on.

[forthegothicheroine]

Some more reviews from John Waters's yearly favorites:

Love Lies Bleeding

This hilarious, bloody film noir is the best movie of the year, one that Russ Meyer might have made if he had been a lesbian intellectual addicted to steroids. Even the pig-men are cute. Sort of.

Climax

The best movie of the year gives new meaning to the term “bad trip.” Frenzied dance numbers combined with LSD, mental breakdowns, and childhood trauma turn this nutcase drama into The Red Shoes meets Hallucination Generation. Freak out, baby, freak out!

Tom of Finland

This dirty but dignified, oddly commercial biopic of the artist who inspired the modern-day s/m gay leather scene is now the Finnish government’s official entry in the 2017 foreign-film Oscar race. That’s what I call patriotic penis progress, and I hope it wins.

Cinderella (2015)

Yes, you heard me, Cinderella. I fucking love this Disney film.

Carol

Maybe the only way to be transgressive these days is to be shockingly tasteful. This Lana Turner–meets–Audrey Hepburn lipstick-lesbian melodrama is so old-fashioned I felt like I was one year old after watching it. That’s almost reborn.

Justin Bieber: Never Say Never

I’m not kidding. A well-made doc that proves the Bieb was a child prodigy. Wait until you see Justin stick his head into the audience and shake his hair in 3D. I screamed.

Bruno

Don’t listen to the critics—it’s better than Borat. Imagine a hetero teen couple in a mall on a first date somewhere in Middle America watching Sacha Baron Cohen pantomime every known gay male sex act, ending in a joyous “facial.” Sometimes audiences get what they deserve.

Grindhouse

The coolest high-concept art film of the year. A faux-exploitation double feature from hell with coming attractions in between for films you’d kill to see if they were real. I could feel the ghost rats from Baltimore theaters past brushing up against my legs as I watched.

Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back

GLAAD was wrong on this one. Jason Mewes can tell me a blowjob joke any day of the week.

O Brother Where Art Thou

The jaw-dropping all-singing, all-dancing Ku Klux Klan/Busby Berkeley number is a real beaut.

I will admit, John Waters's review of Joker II has me a little intrigued...

Finally, a love story I can relate to. So insane, so well thought out, so well directed, so much smoking! It’s Jailhouse Rock meets Busby Berkeley with a 9/11 That’s Entertainment! ending that will make you shake your head in cinematic astonishment. Stupid critics. Gaga so good. Joker so right. Die, dumbbells, die!

[bewitchingfanfiction]

Double Life SMP (2022/07/14)

It had come up when they ran into Cleo and Scott collecting materials. It was rude to not stop and have a little conversation.

The next thing Grian knew, he was planning a caving trip with Cleo.

He was kind of excited. The two didn’t get many chances to hang out together, it would be fun to take some time and bond.

At least…that’s what Grian thought.

But as he packed his bag back at home, Scar kept looking at him like he wanted to say something.

“Are you gonna stare at me all day?” Grian teased. “What’s up?”

Scar swallowed hard, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Grian…are you sure caving with Cleo is a good idea?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” He shrugged, slipping his shoes on.

When he didn’t get a reply right away, he looked up at see Scar shifting around nervously, obviously trying to find the right words.

“It’s just…I mean…Cleo’s a zombie hybrid, you know?”

Grian felt his blood run cold as he looked at Scar with genuine disbelief. “So?”

“Well…” Scar chuckled awkwardly. “I mean, come on. Dark cave…surrounded by other mobs…limited food sources in this world…you get it, right?”

“No.” Grian snapped, eyes narrowing. “I don’t. I really don’t, Scar.”

Scar groaned. “Oh come on, Grian. The second you’re down in the darkness, how do you know Cleo can hold herself back? It’s in her DNA.”

“Her DNA?” Grian hissed in offense. “What does that mean?”

Scar sighed heavily, crossing his arms and looking away from him. “Just…forget it.”

“No go on Scar, tell me about how hybrids have zero self-control!” Grian fumed, standing up and glaring at him.

“That is NOT what I said!” Scar snapped, turning to match Grian’s glare. “We’re in a world where everything is different, including people. Humans can actually lose control of themselves once they’re on red. You expect hybrids to have a chance?”

Grian choked out a gasp. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. This is Cleo we’re talking about Scar, one of our friends!”

“FRIENDS CAN MURDER TOO!” Scar hissed.

Grian’s eyes widened, his mouth fell open in disbelief and hurt.

Scar took a deep breath and looked down. “I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you. You’re my soulmate, you know? We have to look out for each other. Back in Hermitland this wouldn’t even be an issue, because we have all sorts of tools to protect ourselves, but here? Here we only have scraps.”

Tears welled up in Grian’s eyes as he looked at Scar with nothing but disappointment.

Scar sighed heavily. “Grian, I’m not saying this to be mean. I just want us to be safe. Just go caving with someone else, anyone else. Hybrids have always had a bad reputation, you know this. Even back in Hermitland, you’ve seen how the villagers would treat Doc when he walked by. Can you really blame them?”

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this.” Grian shook his head and went towards the door.

“You won’t even listen to me!” Scar hissed in exasperation, throwing his hands up in the air.

Grian looked over his shoulder to sneer at him. “It’s people like you who would donate to hybrid hunting. You take one look at a hybrid and assume they’re bad news. Did you ever stop to think maybe some hybrids can be good?”

“Name one that isn’t Cleo or Doc.” Scar protested, crossing his arms.

Grian dropped his bag and slipped his sweater off, keeping his back to Scar. He hears Scar choke out a gasp.

Giant, incredibly rough scars rested on Grian’s shoulder blades. Anyone who’d known anything about hybrids would know they were wing scars.

“Sorry to break it to you Scar, but your precious soulmate is also a hybrid.” He hissed, slipping his sweater back on.

Scar was stunned. “Wha- why didn’t you say anything!? W-Where are your wings!?”

“I didn’t think it mattered. My wings were torn off by hybrid hunters and probably sold for quite the high price.” He smiled bitterly. “Better be careful Scar, I see idiots and I just, oh I just lose such control over myself, what with my impulsive, uncontrollable hybrid urges.” He mocked.

Scar didn’t stop him when he stormed out this time.

~~~

“Cleo, have you ever had someone…look at you like…like you were different?”

Cleo glanced over from the iron she was digging at to look at Grian curiously. “Different how?”

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Like…you’re not human?”

Cleo’s eyes widened. “Well sure, but I mean, I’m not. Not entirely. It’s kind of expected. Why?”

Grian stared at the floor with narrowed eyes. “Scar warned me against going caving with you…because you’re a hybrid.”

“Ah.”

Cleo set her pickaxe in her bag and went over to him. “Well, do you think I’m dangerous?”

“Of course not!” He snapped. “I don’t know how Scar could even think such a thing.”

She sighed. “It happens, Grian. I’m honestly used to it.”

“But that’s so wrong!” He hissed. “And he didn’t even know that his own soulmate was a hybrid. You should’ve seen his face, Cleo. When he learned, he just…froze, as if I just told him someone died.” Grian complained, collapsing against the cave wall to sulk. “He looked at me like I was…wrong.”

Cleo hummed, leaning against the wall next to him. “You know, Bdubs had a similar reaction.”

“What?” Grian’s eyes widened.

She nodded. “But for him, it was because where he used to live had hybrids, and they were much more vicious than we are. It became second nature to be on edge. But now we’re best friends.” She smiled.

“So what? I’m supposed to just let him off the hook?” Grian snapped.

“I’m saying give him a chance to prove he can change.” Cleo reasoned. “If he’s still a jerk later tonight, dump him and come stay with me.” She grinned.

Grian smiled weakly. “Thanks Cleo.”

She nudged his side and the two got back to work.

~~~

When Grian got back to the cake-like house, he found a…very odd sight.

Inside was a bunch of candles, and a blanket set out with some food and pillows.

And Scar, stood there with a hopeful grin. “Well hello, my beautiful, wonderful soulmate. Care to join me for dinner-“

But then he tripped over his own feet and knocked one of the candles down, setting the blanket on fire.

“AHHH! OH MY GOSH, NO NO NO NO NO, WATER, WHERE’S WATER, GRIAN WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING!?” Scar scrambled to pour out a bucket of water as Grian cackled at the sight.

He held his stomach as he laughed. “Y-You’re such an idiot…”

Scar flushed red, pouting. “I was trying to apologize for saying such mean things.”

Grian sighed a little as his laughter faded. “Scar, I don’t want an apology, I just want you to not look at me like I’m…less than.”

“Hey,” Scar snapped, storming up to him and setting his hands on Grian’s shoulders. “You would never be less than, not to me. And neither is Cleo. What I said was stupid, and mean, and unfair. I’m sorry G.”

Grian smiled a little.

“But…if you wanna run away with BigB, I’ll understand,” Scar pretended to wipe a tear away. “I see the looks you two share, it’s fine, just go ahead and leave me-“

Grian hugged him around his waist with a grin. “Oh can it, my silly, silly soulmate.”

Scar beamed and returned the hug happily, resting his chin on the top of Grian’s head.

Maybe they’d be alright after all.