#have i met these googly's before

[theedgeofhappiness]

How did I not connect these googly's

do two people count as a gang?

[azuremist]

Mainseries Pokemon characters who can be argued to be bisexual-coded (due to their implied crush on the player)

1. Shauna (Pokemon X and Y)

Kalos takes place in France, and Paris is the city of love. So, in the words of Junichi Masuda, "I wanted to implement some elements of romance with Shauna when playing as a boy and express a deep friendship when playing as a girl."

However, due to the VERY few dialogue changes between female vs male protags (as well as actions Shauna takes that are intended to imply romantic interest being the same across all player types, such as her staying behind with the player in the early-game forest), this can be argued to be unintentional bisexual-coding.

2. Lillie (Pokemon Sun and Moon)

Lillie is implied to have a crush on the player. When the player character is female, on Exeggutor Island, she says, "I want to become a Trainer, and learn all the things you know, Selene..." When the player character is male, she says, "I think... I'd like to become a Trainer, too. And travel together with you, Elio..."

Obviously, the difference between these two dialogues makes it pretty clear that they want her dialogue with Elio to be interpreted as more romantically-inclined. However, much like Shauna, Lillie's actions and dialogue varying VERY little otherwise between female vs male protags can be read as unintentional bisexual-coding.

3. Kieran

Kieran is the first character here to receive absolutely zero dialogue changes across player gender. Additionally, I'd say he's the character that we get the strongest hints regarding romantic feelings towards the player with.

Kieran has multiple moments where he's implied to feel romantically towards the player. These include, but are not limited to:

His sister saying that he's "been all googly-eyed over you" since you met, and that he "wouldn't stop talking about you - even at home. I seriously couldn't get him to shut up." Kieran reacts with embarrassment when she says this to the MC.

Him saying, "You're...you're special," before pausing, then getting embarrassed and rushing to change the subject.

When the MC calls him a friend, he responds, "What?! R-really?! We're friends? F-friends... I feel all tingly and funny hearing that... Ehehe..."

After the MC changes into their festival outfit, Kieran says, "Whoa...", when seeing them for the first time.

The player can even seemingly flirt with Kieran; when Kieran describes letting Ogerpon move into his home, the player can teasingly ask when they, themself, can move in with Kieran.

These are all very common romantic tropes. I think Kieran is the closest thing that we have to a canonically bisexual mainline character at this moment.

4. Carmine

Carmine has a fewer number of specific moments compared to her brother, but she can still be easily read as having feelings for the player.

Her extreme reaction to Drayton asking the player on a date is the best example, with her bringing her hands up to her face, and saying, "A wha-?!" Once Drayton leaves, Carmine continues fuming. (This can also be chalked up to her general dislike towards Drayton and how he can be manipulative, but the fact that it's that request that sets her off specifically makes this also easily read as jealousy.)

And speaking of...

5. Drayton

While, like Kieran and Carmine, Drayton doesn't have any dialogue changes between if the player is male and female, it's not really clear how he actually feels about them.

He tells the player, male or female, that they can go on a cafeteria date to talk, which the game fully acknowledges as a romantic phrase via Carmine's extreme reaction. He also tells the player, "From one charming catch to another..."

This is very obviously him flirting with the player, but, due to his laid-back and just-a-liiittle-bit-sleazy nature, this more so comes across as him trying to tease the player character, rather than anything earnest.

If nothing else, he's at least confirmed to be comfortable with romantically teasing male classmates, which I would consider a win.

[turcott3]

throw away

matt rempe x juraj slafkovský x fem! reader

warnings?: cursing, kissing, smut, oral f and m receiving, unprotected sex, creampie, restraint, choking, and of course (can’t go without it) fluff <3

masterlist

-

“you ready to go?” matt asks as you finish thre final touches on your makeup.

“yep.” you smile turning to look at him, standing in the hotel bathroom doorway.

“god you look gorgeous.” he says, smirking, eyeing you up and down.

“thank you.” you blush, zipping up your makeup bag up. you and matt had been “talking” for about a month now, you grew more comfortable with him by the day and were honored that he invited you to come with him to this offseason training camp.

“come on baby.” he says lowly, intertwining your fingers, pulling the room door open.

“so we’re going to a restaurant with all of the guys in your group?” you ask.

“yes but i wouldn’t exactly classify it as a restaurant. its more of a bar club situation.” he giggles looking down at you as you stood and waited for the elevator.

“what if i think one of them is hot?” you joke, locking arms with him.

“then go for it, i won’t stop you.” he replies pushing the floor one button. a response you did not expect.

“oh that’s um- i was joking.” you laugh nervously.

“well i wasn’t.” he replies kissing you on the head. you furrowed your eyebrows, concerned that you had done something wrong but you can’t think of a time you’d give him a reason to question your intentions.

“oh okay.” you say, sticking to your joke. surely you weren’t gonna be eye balling another guy. you had googly eyes the first time you met matt, there was no way you could react that way to anyone else.

“i trust you.” he smirks turning his head to look down at you. you could’ve melted into the floor at the way his eyes practically stared into your soul. you walk out to the rental car and he opens your door for you, making sure you were in your seat before shutting the door behind you. you loved his gentlemanly gestures even with no actual commitment. it was like dreaming.

“it’s a short drive.” he states, staring at the directions on his phone.

“i won’t drink.” you reply.

“me either.”

“okay then maybe i’ll have like one or two.” you giggle as he leans over the console pressing a kiss to your lips.

“yes, enjoy yourself okay?” he asks, his face inches away from yours, eyes locked on his.

“i will.” you reply, a blush creeping onto your cheeks.

“you’re so pretty.” he smirks, pecking your lips one last time before putting the car in drive.

-

like he said before, the drive was short. you two entered the building together, his arm holding you close to his side. it was crowded and the music was loud. quickly, you found yourselves hanging around some of the guys he befriended during the first few days of camp, getting to know them as you sipped on a drink. you being a decent lightweight, you were tipsy off the one drink and decided to cut yourself off. you enjoyed this feeling. tipsy but coherent and capable of controlling yourself, however, you cared a little less about the judgement you’d receive acting out.

“matt, can we dance? let’s go dance.” you beg holding onto his hands, pulling lightly.

“we’ll be back.” he giggles to the boys, allowing you to guide him into the crowded dance floor. the music blared as you turned your back to the boy, his hands running down your waist as you grinded back on him shamelessly, his grip on your body tightening occasionally. you grabbed onto his wrists, directing his hands onto your tits. he squeezed lightly over the fabric of your dress, a moan leaving your throat involuntarily.

“stop before i fuck you right here in front of all these people.” he groaned in your ear. you could feel him hardening through the fabric of his pants.

“so tempting.” you reply, turning around and running your hands down his chest and attaching your lips to his.

out of the corner of your eye you saw someone. tall, muscular, brunette, bright smile. you turned your head to get a better look as you hugged the side of your head to his chest. the guy looked straight out of a magazine. chiseled jaw line, defined cheek bones, hair that fell on his forehead effortlessly in the perfect places, you could hardly believe he was even real.

“matt.”

“yeah?” he asks looking down at you.

“i’m gonna go…. get another drink.”

“okay,” he pauses, “talk to a guy, i know that’s why you’re walking away right now.” he whispered with a devious smirk on his face.

“stop.” you shoved him with a red face as he chuckles, turning his attention to one of his friends. you approach the guy who was now standing alone at the bar.

“and who are you? i feel like i know who you are.” you state.

“it’s juraj, and you are?” he replies with a thick accent.

“y/n. it’s nice to meet you, where are you from? your accent is fucking gorgeous.”

“no the pleasure is mine, you are beautiful. and thank you, i’m from slovakia.” he smiles, looking you up and down.

“so you here for that hockey thing?” you ask not even hiding the blush that crept up onto your cheeks, taking a sip of whatever drink you were handed by the bartender.

“yeah actually i am. it’s been a little lonely you know.” he replies, his eyes shimmering in the dim light.

“i would’ve thought you had a girlfriend.”

“oh no no, can’t really say i’ve been looking. a hook up would be nice from time to time though.” he laughs.

“yeah i bet.”

“you know matt?”

“rempe?”

“yeah, him.”

“yeah i’ve met him, he seems cool.”

“we’ve been talking for a while, he’s been great you know?” you say turning to look at matt, who had girls circling him, yet he paid no mind.

“would you wanna like, go somewhere or….. it’s just a bit loud. there’s a lot going on in here, not private.”

“i think we’re good here, unless you can’t hear.” you hesitate. you remembered what matt had told you earlier but it was hard to break your habit.

“you’re good, i don’t wanna like pressure you or anything.” he says motioning his hands apologetically.

“oh were you- oh juraj, i’m like talking talking to matt.” you reply, scratching your head

“and?” he smirks, his intention was clear.

he wanted to fuck you, and you couldn’t say you weren’t on the same page.

“i mean maybe we could, do something.” you reply, playing with the hem of your dress.

“what’d you have in mind?” he asks, stepping closer, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“y/n.” you hear to your left.

matt.

“oh hey matt, i was just gonna come looking for you. this is juraj.”

“yeah we’ve met before.” he chuckles, dapping him up. compared to how large matt was, juraj wasn’t far off. he was sizable.

“so, babe, juraj was wanting to come back with me tonight and i was wondering if that was okay?” you ask, toying with the seam of his shirt. he turns to juraj and you practically see a lightbulb go off over his head. he nodded at the slovak boy with a smirk, dapping each other up once again. you wished you could speak their language fluently but you were assuming you translated correctly.

“we should go now huh?” matt asks, wrapping an arm comfortably around your waist. you simply nod in reply and matt begins to guide you out of the building as you held onto juraj’s finger behind you. you found your way back out into the car and prepared for a probably silent drive home.

-

“will you go in the bathroom baby? just give us one second.” matt asks with puppy eyes.

“y-yes?” you replied as the boy handed you a bag from victoria’s secret you had never seen before.

“go change.” he mumbled in your ear, kissing your cheek briefly. you looked inside the bag briefly before hesitantly walking to the bathroom. you removed the tissue paper and pulled out a beautiful white lingerie set, the same one you’d been eye balling since your birthday a few weeks prior. you pulled it out of the bag, eyeing the gorgeous lace detailing and delicate rhinestones that lined the cups.

“okay.” you say, hyping yourself up in the mirror. you loved how expensive you felt.

you hear light knocks on the door.

“come in?” you said, adjusting the straps. matt opens the door and goes big eyed.

“what? is it ugly? do i lo-“

“you look fucking delicious.” he replies, licking his bottom lip before grabbing your face with his hands and crashing your lips together.

“what were you guys talking about?” you ask pulling away.

“guidelines.” he replies, twirling a strand of your hair.

“what kind?”

“it’s not really anything, i mostly just asked that he was out of here by early morning.” he giggles.

“oh��� okay.” you blush.

“go out there and get comfortable with him okay? i’m gonna shower real quick. i wreak of liquor. some bitch at the bar spilled his drink on me.” he giggles brushing his hair out of his face.

“okay, don’t be too long, i’ll miss you.” you say biting your lip.

“i won’t be.” he replies kissing you. you leave the bathroom shutting the door lightly behind you. you reveal yourself to the boy who sat scrolling on his phone, shirtless.

“oh wow look at you.” he smiles putting his phone face down on the side table.

“you like?” you reply, doing a full spin.

“you look gorgeous.” he smiles as you place your hands on his shoulders. his hands placed lightly on your hips.

“can i kiss you?” he asks, locking eyes with you.

“juraj, we’re about to be fucking, yes you can kiss me.” you laugh. he grabs your chin between his thumb and index finger connecting your lips with his. his lips were soft and sweet with the taste of his mint lip balm. your tongue plunging into his mouth, opening just like an automatic door. the kiss sent you spiraling. you sunk onto his thigh, clenching at the sensation of his thigh against your already sensitive core. your body jerked involuntarily, begging for friction. his hand lightly wraps around your neck, creating pressure on the sides and you grab onto his wrist. you begin grinding your hips on his thigh, moving in circles, your blood rushing straight to your clit.

“oh fuck.” you whisper locking eyes with him.

“you gonna fuck yourself on my thigh huh?” he grunts and you nod, his hand limiting the movement of your head.

“better be quick, he’s gonna be done soon.” he smirks as you speed up. your legs squeezed around his thigh as your rubbed against him, leaving a puddle of your wetness on his thigh, the thin fabric of your panties doing absolutely nothing to stop the sensation. you begged for your first climax, probably of many. he let go of your neck, you head crashing into his shoulder. his hand found his way into your hair as you crept closer to your climax.

“j.” you whined as his other arm wrapped around you.

“you gonna cum for me pretty girl?” he cooed in your ear.

“uh huh.” you reply with a moan, your legs shaking around his thick thigh, soaked in your climax. your chest rose up and down heavily as he rubbed your back gently.

"so so good." he whispers. you sit up reconnecting your lips before you hear the water stop running. you stand up from his lap, embarrassed at the sight below you.

"oh my god let me clean you up." you panic scrambling for your towel from the previous night.

"hand it to me i got it. get in bed, i'll be with you in a second." he states giggling at your embarrassment. he wipes his leg clean of you and removes his shorts, climbing into bed next to you. you rubbed your legs together, still horny as ever.

"so anxious." he whispered running a hand over your stomach, sucking on the skin of your neck. you tugged on his soft hair as he littered your neck with kisses. you heard the lock click and see matt turn the corner, his white towel not hiding the print of his thick cock.

"i see you got cozy." he giggles staring at the two of you on the bed.

"oh yeah for sure." you reply giving him a thumbs up, juraj chuckling next to you as he slides his boxers off.

"come sit." matt says undoing his towel. you scoot to the edge of your bed sitting on your knees.

"wanna use that pretty little mouth for me princess?" matt says with a smug look, sliding two fingers into your mouth. you sucked his fingers confidently before he retracted them, using your saliva to rub himself hard, which wasn't a difficult task.

"get on the ground. god, i want in those gorgeous lips of yours." he requests, placing a pillow on the ground for your knees, which you gladly comply and take him into your hands. you spat on his dick rubbing it in, glistening in doing so. you made contact with his tip, running your tongue over the sensitive head.

"fuck." he sighs, pulling your hair out of your face. you ran your tongue along the veins of his hard shaft, loving the taste of him in your mouth just like always. you bobbed your head up and down with the help of your hands before he pulled you off of him.

"wh-"

"it's not just me your mouth is taking care of honey." he interrupted, nodding to the boy who'd rubbed himself hard at the sight of you. your jaw dropped at the size of his dick. it was long and thick, you were overwhelmed enough by matt's alone. how on earth were you going to make it through this?

you climbed onto the bed and met slaf at his side. you took him into your hand, praying in some way you could handle this. matt climbed on the bed behind you and laid back, enjoying the view. you spat on your hand, working your saliva into the skin of his cock. you took him into your mouth, running your tongue in circles around his tip as you continued jerking him off with your hands. you ran your tongue up and down his shaft before taking him back into your mouth, sucking in your cheeks pulling him out with a pop. you felt matt pull your hair out of your face, keeping your lips on his dick. you opened your mouth back up for him this time with assistance. carefully, matt pushed your head down. taking more and more of juraj's dick into your mouth. you could only make it half way on your own but you had already passed that point. your eyes began to water as you reached closer to the base of his cock, gagging, gripping onto his thigh.

"god such a good girl." slaf groans before matt lets go of your hair and you pull him out of with a cough, spit webbing from your mouth. you laughed as you wiped the tears that spring loose.

"i didn't think i could do that." you say turning to matt.

"well it was fucking hot." juraj interjects leaning up slightly.

"lay on his chest for me baby." matt says kissing you deeply. you positions yourself in between slaf's legs, laying your back on his chest. matt spread your legs apart and ran a hand up your thigh. slaf grabs hold of both of your hands, pulling them above both of your head, his grip on your wrists firm. he wrapped his free arm around your waist snuggly as matt removed your thong.

"god i've been wanting to do this all fucking day." matt smirks licking his lips before diving between your legs. his tongue made intense contact with your clit, a sensation you'd been wanting since you arrived back at the hotel.

"oh my god." you yelped, clenching your fists. you bit your lip, trying to keep yourself quiet for the sake of your neighbors. if there was one thing matt loved in this world, it was eating you out.

"you taste so good sweetheart." he says leaning his head up as he easily slides two fingers into you. you squrimed in the brunettes grip as your thighs squeezed matt's head lightly.

"juraj please. please let go, i need something to-fuck." you moan squeezing your eyes shut, you buck against matt's face fighting slaf's grip on you.

"you gonna come princess? soak his face y/n. fucking drench him." he eggs you on in your ear lowly.

"j please, i need my hands." you beg, running out of breath. he releases your hands and immediately one finds its way into matt's hair between your thighs and the other gripping harshly on juraj’s thigh. you avoided finishing yet but the task was becoming increasingly difficult until you couldn't take it anymore. a yelp was released from your throat as you snapped into your climax.

"baby he's not even fucking you yet and you're fucking drenching his face." slaf giggles as matt backs away, his face drenched in your cum. your eyes full of daze, you sit up and attack him in a kiss.

"you're so fucking hot." matt says pulling away breathlessly.

"which one of us do you want first? we can take turns with that pretty little pussy huh?" matt laughs darkly, wiping his face with his arm.

"i want him." you say turning to slaf. his eyes lit up as he stands up out of bed.

"can i suck you while he fucks me?" you ask matt, linking your hands together, smiling at him with hopefully eyes.

"of course baby." he smirks, kissing your lips lovingly. you climb onto the corner of the bed, getting on all fours. matt rounds the corner and stands in front of you as slaf lays a light hand on your ass, running his cock through your soaking folds.

"so fucking wet for me." he says as matt jerks himself off in front of you, licking your lips waiting to have him back into your mouth. juraj pushes into your tight pussy from behind you slowly, your eyes rolling into the back of your head at his size.

"fuck." you moan as he bottoms out.

"so tight around me." he says retracting his hips at a sinfully slow speed. his thrusts were deep and long, sending you into a spiral of uncontrollable moans. the way his cock effortlessly hit your cervix drove you mad as he snapped his hips, the skin of your ass slapping against him.

"oh my fucking god." you say as he picks up his speed. his grip on your hips became harder.

"such a good girl taking him so well." matt says just above the volume of your moans.

"open up for me." he continues, placing a finger under your chin to look up. he pushes his cock back into your mouth, the vibration of your moans making him impossibly hornier. the feeling of juraj stretching you out while you sucked in matt’s dick like a lollipop left you wondering if there was ever a time where you felt this overwhelmed, but in the best way.

“oh my god.” you moaned with muffled words as slaf picked up his speed, you helping by fucking yourself onto him. the sound of skin slapping practically drowned out your moans, spit dripping down your chin as you gagged on matt’s cock. you found the strength to lift an arm and pull him out of your mouth.

“fuck, i’m gonna cum.” you tell, lazily jerking off the poor boy in front of you.

“i’m getting close.” the slovak grunts from behind you, pulling your hips onto him as he drills into you even deeper than before. the line in your abdomen snaps as an orgasm washes over your body.

“fuck fuck fuck.” you hear him groan as he spills his warm seed deep into you, fucking all the way through both of your climaxes, his thrusts became slow and lazy as you both ran out of breath. he pulls himself out of your throbbing core.

“look at that, fucking hell.” he scoffs, running a finger through the mess between your legs as you catch your breath.

“open up sweetheart.” he requests and you do as your told, sucking his finger clean of the salty fluid. you sat up on your knees beckoning matt over to you.

“i wanna taste you.” you beg and he smirks. you take him into your hand, rubbing your finger over the sensitive part of his head, putting in effort to get him there just like you had been. you felt his cock twitch in your hand as he spewed his seed onto your face. you licked the liquid that had dripped onto your lip gladly, using your fingers to wipe up some more and suck your fingers clean.

“hold still pretty girl. let me clean you up.” matt laughs grabbing a tissue from the nightstand, wiping it from around your eyes.

“such a good girl taking him like that, so so good princess.” he smiles at your as he holds your chin to keep your eyes on him. you grew tired as your body came down from your high, your eyes fluttering shut.

“you can’t go passing out on us yet honey, we’re not done with you.” he smirks pressing a kiss you your lips. you were exhausted but couldn’t get enough of these men.

“lay down for me baby. i know you’re tired, take a breath.” he continues and you do as you’re told. you lay back on a mountain of pillows, glaring at the two boys eyeing you.

“matt,” you say practically in a whisper and he climbs over you, “want you in me.” you finish.

“dont worry princess we’re getting there.” he smirks before pushing his cock into your coated pussy without warning.

“oh my god.” you huff out, locking eyes with him as he thrusts deeply into you, stretching you out just like before. this was a feeling that was intoxicating. you could never get used to it.

“such a tight little pussy huh? you like it when i fuck you like this don’t you?” he asks as you lock your legs around his hips.

“yes fuck yes.” you moan, your voice growing raspy at the strain you felt in your vocal chords. he pounded deeper into you than you ever could’ve imagined, attaching your lips as an attempt to quiet your moans.

“gonna wake up the neighbors pretty girl.” slaf chuckles standing next to you, jerking himself off at the sight of you getting annihilated by matt. you reach out your arm without looking, taking juraj’s dick into your hand, pumping him with decent pressure. you were surprised you could focus on multiple things considering your pussy was getting drilled into by a 6’7 monster of a man, you were honestly impressed with your ability to function.

matt breaks the kiss away focusing more on his speed now. you pull slaf’s hand wanting to bring him closer to you, putting his saliva-soaked cock back into your mouth. you hollowed your cheeks out taking him all the way, running your tongue along the bottom of his shaft on the way out. a galaxy began to form behind you eyelids at the boy pile driving you between your legs but you persisted on, twirling your tongue around the tip of the hockey player’s dick. you pulled away, grabbing harshly onto matt’s shoulder as you felt pressure in your stomach that you hadn’t felt before.

“holy fuck.” matt says slowing down and pulling out as your spewed liquid all over him. he looks down at himself in shock before laughing.

“what happened?” you asked leaning up.

“you just fucking squirted.” he scoffs.

“i did?”

“yes and it was fucking hot.” slaf says, leaning down and connecting your lips again.

“fuck you’re so perfect.” matt says pushing himself back inside you, quickly returning to his previous pace. he wasn’t able to go for long before you felt it again but this time he fucked you right through it.

“jesus need a fucking flood warning over here.” he grunts, pounding into you continuously.

“matt fuck i’m gonna cum.” you whine as he dips his head low, his hair tickling your face. your vision goes black as you tighten around him, your grip on his shoulder loosening instantly.

“such a good girl, you’re doing so good baby.” he grunts fucking you all the way through your high into his own, coating your walls with his milky seed. his thrusts slow down quickly, him growing lethargic with every thrust.

“so so beautiful.” he says keeping his cock deep inside you as he pressed a kiss to your lips.

“fuck i can’t believe we just did that.” you giggle with the little energy you had left as matt joins your right side.

“i’m surprised we got no noise complaints.” slaf giggles joining you on your free side.

“so?” matt asks you.

“that was fucking incredible.” you scoff, almost wanting another go round but you know you couldn’t handle it. you nuzzled to matt’s side, his thumb running back and forth on your side.

“well thanks for tonight guys it was great, i feel like it’s probably good if i go back to my room.” the slovak says picking up his clothes, scratching the back of his head.

“thanks for coming bro.” matt says dapping him up just like he had at the bar.

“yeah of course.”

“juraj wait.” you say sitting up, matt’s hand dropping to the side of your ass.

“what is it?” he asks and you beckon him over.

“nothing i just wanted to say bye.” you say sitting up, tugging the boy down by his shirt to kiss him one last time, not lingering too long.

“bye sweetheart,” he smirks, grabbing his phone and exiting the hotel room. you and matt laid in silence under the covers for the next hour or so before you drifted off to sleep in the boy’s arms.

-

“huh?” you groan being woken up with a kiss.

“good morning pretty girl, it’s 10. i figured i should wake you up.” matt says lowly, brushing hair out of your face.

“morning.” you reply sweetly, sleep lingering in both of your eyes.

“last night was crazy.”

“yeah it was.” you giggle in reply.

“if i asked you, would you be all mine?”

“what do you mean?”

“like, god okay don’t laugh at me this is gonna be a little cheesy, would you please make me the happiest guy ever and let me have all of you? i know it has only been like a month but you are literally my oxygen. i’m fucking obsessed with you.” he says truthfully and you smile pressing a kiss to the boys lips.

“i’d love nothing more than to be all yours matthew rempe.” you reply as he pulls you to his chest.

“my babygirl.” he whispers, running soft fingers through your hair as you fight the urge to drift off to sleep again.

“would you be open to doing last night again?” you ask after some moments of silence.

“oh fuck yes.” he replies and the two of you giggle, spending the rest of the day wrapped up in each other.

-

[hitomisuzuya]

Would you be able to write about sugar daddy Scaramouche that just buying us anything we want, no smut just fluff. Thanks :)

Scaramouche x fem!reader. Fluffy fluff fluff❤️

I really enjoyed writing this. *I once bought a cute, stuffed purple Hippo from the Hallmark store.

The way Scaramouche saw it, he could spend his money on whatever he wanted. And what he wanted to spend it on was you. He enjoyed spending it on you.

You clung to him in a way that validated him. You were patient, kind, and loving. All things he not only wasn't used to, but didn't know they existed all that much until he met you.

There was something entirely adorable about the way you waffled about wanting to ask him for something. You would fidget with your fingers, look at him and look away shyly back at whatever it was you wanted.

In this case, it was a cute stuffed animal you saw in a shop that primarily made greeting cards*.

"What? What does my sweet girl want?" Scaramouche couldn't help but ask, stroking a hand down your hair. The shy blush that dusted your cheeks made you look twice as cute. He raised an eyebrow as you looked up at him.

"Well I.." You begin, looking at the stuffed animal the window again for a moment.

Scaramouche sighed, but not in an annoyed way. It felt like you were afraid he was gonna say no if you asked him for it. Didn't you know by now that whatever you wanted, you got? No matter what it is was.

You already had about four other bags with various things in them (which he insisted on carrying even though you told him you could carry them).

"Hm? What is it?" He ran his fingers through your hair. Scaramouche already knew what it was, he just wanted to say it.

"That stuffed dinosaur is just so cute. Especially the purple one," You smiled at the stuffed dinosaur with the long neck. It had quite possibly the derpest, googly-eyed expression he'd ever seen on a stuffed animal.

But it made you smile and you wanted it. So it was yours.

"They have them in two different colors. Do you want both?" Scaramouche asked, putting an arm around your waist as you walked with him in the store.

You shook your head, nuzzling your cheek against his chest. "No, just the purple one. But the blue is also really cute," You reached out a tapped your finger on the nose of the winged, blue stuffed dinosaur.

Needless to say, you walked out of the store with both of them.

"We have one more stop to make before we head home," Scaramouche said, watching you hug the blue stuffed dinosaur to your chest as he reached for your hand. He didn't want to make you let go of the dinosaur, so he opted for his arm around you, his hand tucked into your back pocket of your pants while you walked.

"I had a ring custom made for you. That ring you said you like the last time were there but you thought the diamonds were too big," He said to which you nodded and waited for him to continue, "I had them take the design of the ring and make one with smaller diamonds in it."

"Scara, oh my god, wasn't that expensive?" It was adorable the way you were fretting about the cost. The eyes of the jeweler had nearly popped out of his head when Scaramouche had paid in full instead of installments like most people would.

For you, it was always, without fail worth it.

[luveline]

i am in love with the way you write kbd!steve and would love to see more of him being enamoured w reader and the way she is with the girls if you’re up to it😩🥺🤍 love you all smooches for you 😙😙

kisses before dinner ♡ mom!reader

Steve watches through the slice of open doorway. You do it all in relative silence, a moment's peace between you and the second oldest, Bethie sitting prim as a doll on the countertop you've put her on as you clean her face with a damp hand towel. You take the stain of her peanut butter and apple slices off of her lips in gentle strokes, drying her off with the other end of the towel. Your hands (like Beth's hands, the same fingers and the same shaped nails) are sweet as you trace your pinkies from her temples to her chin in unison.  

“There,” you say finally, “perfect again.”

“Thanks mommy.” 

You lean down for a kiss, which you get, but Beth wraps her arms around you before you can think about escaping, whispering something Steve can't hear. 

“I love you too,” you say a touch louder. “You okay?” 

“I'm okay.” 

“You're happy?” 

“Yeah, mom, I'm happy! I'm amazing.” 

“Amazing?” you ask, your fondness for her filling every syllable. “You are amazing, that's true.” You peel back to smile at her, turning into her touch and obscuring Steve's view. He hears the soft smack of another kiss, almost jealous, until Avery comes to attention where she's laid up at his side to ask why he's holding a sock. 

“It's your sister’s,” he says. 

“Which one?” She giggles. “I have too many.” 

“What? You do not, you have the perfect amount of them.” 

Avery's shoulders shake next to his arm as she laughs at his mock-outrage. She kicks her leg over his thigh and he squeezes on instinct, sock and all in hand. 

You and Beth make your return to the living room hand in swinging hand. Beth's polka dot pyjamas are trailing behind her on the floor and her hair is a little wild, but her face is pristine, and her smile is even better. 

“You look happy,” you and Steve say at the same time. You to Avery, and Steve to Beth. 

The girls laugh. Dove, playing with blocks that don't fit together by Steve's feet, looks up suspiciously at the commotion. “What?” she asks. 

You laugh more, “Just me and daddy sharing a brain,” you say, wiggling your fingers at her. 

“Yucky.” 

“Mm,” you agree, collapsing on the couch next to Steve's open side. Beth climbs into your lap and he'd think you hadn't noticed if it weren't for your arm wrapping immediately around her. You've been great at this whole mom business since the very first baby, not because you're a natural, but because you always tried so hard to be as loving as you could be. 

When Steve met you, he fell in love with you for a multitude of reasons. You were interesting, beautiful, with a penchant for taking care of people and falling asleep in the sunshine. He'd come calling and find you knocked out in sunbathers or elbow deep in washing up. You wanna help make dinner?

“You're looking at me funny,” you say. For a few moments, Steve had been looking at the version of you he met almost ten years ago. 

“Am not.” 

“Are too. You were looking through me. Now you're doing fake googly eyes.” 

“They're not fake,” he says, indignified. “They're so real. Look how real they are.” 

“Don't give yourself an aneurysm, I believe you.” 

“What's an aneurysm?” Beth asks. 

Avery nods agreeably with her sister's line of questioning, eyes flicking between you and Steve in wait of the answer. 

“It's a bad joke,” Steve says dismissively. 

“Ouch.” You lay down against his shoulder. It's not an especially romantic nor affectionate touch, but it doesn't have to be. His skin thrums with your nearness every time. “So mean to me, Stevie.” 

“Did you always call daddy Stevie?” Avery asks. 

You rub your cheek against his sleeve. “What do you mean?” 

“‘Cos, like, his name is Steve.” 

“His name is dad,” Beth says. 

“Daddy!” Dove says. 

Steve gestures for the littlest to come forward and sit with them. She climbs up with help onto his knee and gives him a hug, but no sooner has she sat than she's climbing back down. “No, mom didn't always call me Stevie. She used to call me Harrington, or H when she was feeling nice.” 

“And plain Steve,” you say. 

“Yeh, but why Stevie?” Avery asks. 

“Well, why Avey-bear? Dovey?” you point out gently. ��It's nice. Like you wanna keep saying someone's name, even after it's done.” 

It's why Bethie’s called Bethie, and not Bethany, Bethan, or Beth. Her legal name is Bethie, and that ‘ie’ at the end, while having been a name Steve adored, is a little tribute to love. Your love for him. 

He forgets sometimes, but now he's remembered he might start crying. Dad hormones, he decides. Having kids makes you more emotional for sure. It's definitely not because you're amazing, and lovely, and everything he ever wanted day in, day out, every second of every hour— 

“I just love him,” you say, kissing the top of Steve's arm. “Same way I love you guys. He's my family, he has been since we met.” 

Bethie’s lips curve just like yours when she smiles, and Avery has hints of you in hers, too. “That's nice, mom,” Avery says. “I'm glad you met him.” 

“Yeah, me too!” you say, a breathless cheer as you throw your arms around Steve and Dove's soft tummy to hug him tightly. “I wouldn't have him or my pretty girls if I didn't.” 

Beth worms her way into the hug and Steve gets an arm around Avery's shoulders to include her, not sure who's forehead to kiss first. You reach over his lap to rub Avery's arm softly and he decides you should probably get the first one, on account of being the world's biggest, sweetest sweetheart. 

[neteyamslovrr]

Okay Ao'nung falls in love with Sully na'vi fem Reader who is albino and doesn't know why but catches himself staring at them at every chance he gets because he's never seen anyone like her before and his friends say something rude but he shuts that down quickly and is immediately trying to court her and Reader is surprised because no one at her old village showed an interest in her (she's the oldest Sully kid) and he's genuinely surprised because who wouldn't want to court someone so gorgeous (I haven't seen any fics of albino na'vi reader) fluffy ending!

PEARL

summary: you never received much romantic attention in your clan, so the least you expected was the son of the metkayina to get violent for you.

contents: 1.7k words, fem!sullyreader, swearing, fighting, bullying, wee bit of angst, fluffy ending

authors note: thankyou for always interacting bae i love u and this req. hopefully it is good <3 i lowkey struggled lmao. ALSO this photo of him woof woof

You were different. You knew that. Everyone around you knew that. Your skin was pale, derived of the usual blue, eyes, and hair so light that it glimmered in the sunlight. A sight to behold, ‘Eywa knew the world needed your light.’ As your father said.

 You were the first one of your people to look like this. Mo’at assumed it was because your father was born of the sky-people, but it was just an appearance level change, you were the same as everyone else in the inside, so people treated you as such.

You were treated just like everyone, never excluded, ridiculed, or made fun of. Well, who would do that to the daughter of Toruk Makto. Though, you noticed as you got older that the Omaticaya men never looked at you the way they would look at your friends, no googly eyes were sent your way or efforts of courtship. No late night walks or little gifts. Your love life was barren, no sprout or seedling of love budding in sight.

So, when your family up and left your home, everything you ever knew. You expected one thing to be the same. That there would be no mate waiting for you in your new home, just as there wasn’t one in your old home.

Ao’nung noticed the commotion that was emerging at the shores of his village, the sounds of horns blaring as the hunters started to come in from the sea. His curiosity bested him as his body moved unconsciously to investigate. Only to be met with the Toruk Makto and his family begging for refuge.

Their skin was a darker blue, figures lean and tails small and weak. What would they bring here that would benefit the clan at all? He thought to himself, they were weak, useless.

He focused on the intense conversation between the pairs of parents. Tension so strong it could have been pierced with a spear. But a spear didn’t break the tension surrounding Ao’nung. No. It was him catching sight of you.

It was like his body went into shock, a current running through him from head to toe. His brain felt as if it was buzzing, the only thought was of you. His father told him once about this feeling he got when he first saw his mother. Was this the feeling? Was the feeling meant to be towards a forest freak?

You were so different. Different to his people, different to your people. You were truly a sight to behold. Like a beautiful pearl, that was hiding amongst the depths of blue coral. He felt his world shatter as he saw you, your beauty was truly memorizing. It didn’t matter if your arms and tail were weak, he needed to get to know you.

You had been at the village for a month or so now. It was nothing like home, the sand felt weird on your feet, the water was never the same temperature, and the people never stopped staring. Something you missed so dearly from home is even if you were different, you were still Omaticaya. Here you weren’t Metkayina, you barely looked Na’vi to them. So all it ended in was occasion ridicule from the teenage boys when your younger brothers weren’t around to protect you.

Though in the time you had been here. You had grown closer to the chief’s son, Ao’nung. He made it a commitment to talk to you every day, whether it was small talk, or a late night walk. You couldn’t tell when you started to develop feelings for him. You assumed you only did because he was the first person who ever showed you the courtesy of manners, even if he was hostile to your brothers. He became someone who you could be with, to protect yourself from the teenage ridicule.  

In your month, you had found yourself a favourite spot to sit and look at the waves. Resting yourself against a tall tree, bark itchy against your soft back as you dig your toes into the sand below you. Still trying to get used to the odd texture. It was somewhat peaceful, the sound of the waves. Not as calming as the sounds of rain in the forest, pitter pattering on the leaves. But it was still peaceful.

However, it was short-lived. The sounds of waves being crushed by the sounds of quiet mutterings behind you.

“Is she sick? She isn’t even the same as her family of freaks?”

“She reflects in the sun dude! That’s so fucked up.”

“She’s barely Na’vi she’s basically a vvrtep” The statements were followed with a couple of quiet chuckles. You wondered if they knew you could hear them. They probably relished in it honestly.

Though you tried to not let the comments get to you, they pained you to hear. It hurt to hear such degradation. Pushing the tears back until the suffocated you, is what it felt like to act tough in front of them.

But the quiet mutters and chuckles suddenly turned into loud thumps and yells as commotion started to brew behind you.

“Y’know what’s fucked up? Your face after I beat you shitless.” Scurrying from your spot you watched the fight in front of you. There was Ao’nung, riled up and furious, beating his friends face in after he mocked you.

“Brother what is wrong with you?!” His friend hysterically questioned as he fought off Ao’nung’s fists, getting one punch straight to the Ao’nung’s nose.

“You do not speak of her like that.” Ao’nung was seething, his words coming out as a hiss spitting in his friend’s face. As he was now being held back by his other friend, fists drenched in the blood of his ‘friend.’

“Oh, fuck me! Bit hypocritical you skxwang! Did her skin blind you and make you go insane?!” Ao’nung hissed in his face, spitting blood at him.

You were watching in horror. The bloody mess of these men was almost nauseating to look at as you realised this was because of you. The feeling of dread overcame you as your clouded mind drowned out their boisterous yelling. You held onto the fabric of your shirt, fiddling with the beads as you stared towards the men, not focused on anything but a overwhelming feeling of guilt.

“If you like that freak so much, why don’t you go and talk to her. She must be so charmed by you beating the shit out of me Ao’nung.” Leaving Ao’nung in a huff his friends bashed shoulders as they walked past him back to the village to get help.

Ao’nung was now only focused on the way your body awkwardly swayed as you stared towards him. Truthfully, he came over to talk to you. He wanted to gift you this bracelet he had hand woven with a small pearl intertwined in the rope, so he could say it was beautiful and reminded him of you. Yet he feels as if he had messed up any chance he had of being flirtatious with you, after he is covered in the blood of a friend.

“Ao’nung.” It was a meek whisper, it scratched as it came out of your throat. Not able to create eye-contact with him. His stare still being too intimidating, the way it made your heart flutter.

“Yes.” He breathed it out, as if he had just exhaled a breath after being under water for hours. His voice begging for you to look up at him.

“Are you alright?” Gaining the courage to look up at his bruised face you wince. His nose was bleeding as his lip was slightly split. His friend can obviously punch.

“I’m fine Y/N.” He smiled down at you, looking at the way your eyes poured out concern the more you assessed his injuries.

“You are stupid. Let them talk. You talk just like them.” Tone harsh as if you were scolding a child. In response, he sulked like a child pouting his lips.

“They were being rude. I can’t let people talk about the one I admire like that. It’s not what a good mate would do.” As he let out his last sentence he fiddled with the bracelet he knotted around his loincloth, so he didn’t lose it.

You were puzzled. Good mate? Was he interested in you? Were his efforts romantic not just the obscure kindness?

“What do mean by that Ao’nung?” Your eyes followed his hand as he placed the bracelet in your hands. His fingertips were rough, they felt as if they were burning, setting your heart ablaze as he gazed at you.

“I’ve always thought pearls were beautiful, just like you.” He was never this nervous, the cocky smirk he usually adorned was wiped off his face as he nervously awaited your response.

“I’m not beautiful Ao’nung we both know that.” He shook his head as he continued to tie the bracelet around your wrist, making sure to linger his fingers on your skin as often as he could.

“You are the most beautiful woman I think I’ve ever seen, you are more gorgeous than any woman in this village.” He was holding onto your hands as if you’d fly away if he let go.

“No one’s ever said that to me before.” Ao’nung was bewildered, it was shocking to him. But he tried to not let his shock ruin the intense stare he was giving you, trying to convey the most sincerity as possible.

“Then I’ll happily be the first. And I’ll be the one calling you beautiful forever, if you accept my courting gift.” He waited eagerly for your response, it felt as if time was dragging along. His heart constricting the longer you were silent.

“Of course, I do. The bracelet is as stunning as you, how could I reject the man who stood up to be against his friends.”

“Yeah you’d have to be pretty stupid.” You scowled and gave him a playful pinch. “Ow! Y/N!”

“You ruined the moment!”

“I’ll ruin the moment more by kissing you with my bloody face!” You squealed in disgust as you shook your head.

“Absolutely not. Come with me, I’ll clean you up.” He followed you swiftly, making sure to intertwine his fingers in with yours.

“Yes ma’am.”

thankyou so much for reading lovelies <333 interacting is super duper appreciated have a great day/night <333 I'd love to see you follow ╰⁠(⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠)⁠╯

[delulu-baddie]

 girl in the mirror

a/n the song uses a male figure as the focus just ignore that :)

summary you and paige have another fight which leads to the end of your relationship

warnings some swearing and slightly suggestive content

pairing paige bueckers x reader

Based on the song 'Girl In the Mirror" by Megan Moroney

Part 2

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

The girl in the mirror

She's lost her damn mind

She's gotten too used to

Cryin' all the time

I'm not sure how our relationship ended up where it is right now. Everything started off so well, dates every weekend and never wanting to be away from each other turned into rain checks and not even wanting to sleep next to one another. Here I was again crying alone in our shared apartment after yet another argument with my girlfriend.

He puts her down

She puts him pedestal high

The girl in the mirror

She's lost her damn mind

The night started off so well, Paige and I had finally found a day that worked for both of us to go out like we used to. I wore her favorite dress of mine and she had even got me a new necklace to accessorize with.

“Hey baby, im almost done I just need to put on some lipstick” I said looking at Paige who had just walked into the bathroom through the mirror. “ No rush, I just wanted to come give you something before we head out” she replied, grabbing my waist and turning me around to face her. I was met with those dazzling blue eyes and the smile that never fails to warm my heart, “what is it?” I asked her, smiling back and wrapping my arms around her neck. She pulls out a small black box and opens it revealing a gold necklace with a small plate that had the word ‘forever’ engraved in it with our anniversary on the back. I gasped immediately hugging her “Oh my gosh it's beautiful” I quickly let out, “glad you like it” she responded with a slight chuckle, “I love it” i said correcting her, “here let me put it on you”. I turned around so that she could get it on easier running my fingers over the engraving on the front. I gave her a peck on the lips and told her I'd be done in just a second and we could head out after that. 

We arrive at the restaurant and get seated fairly quickly before being greeted by our waitress. She was pretty and wasn't wearing much makeup, from what could tell she also had an obvious liking towards Paige. “Hi my name is Morgan, i'll be taking care of you guys tonight, how are you guys doing” she asked smiling, but staring at my girlfriend  we both said a quick good before starting to tell her what we wanted “I'll take the chicken alfredo'' I told her she grinned and wrote it down on the pad before turning to page with a smirk continuing to ask “And for you gorgeous?” . The comment caught me off guard, but the night was going so well, it wasn’t worth the headache of bringing it up. “Um I'll take the shrimp scampi,” Paige answered, unphased by the compliment. She told us that she would be back shortly with our orders once again making googly eyes at Paige. Of course with the popularity, I was used to other girls making comments about my girlfriend but none of them were ever made in front of me up until now and it made me feel uneasy, but nevertheless I still ignored bringing up the comment. 

We got our food and made light conversation about school and Paige's excitement to finally be back on the court this season. After about an hour it was time for us to get our check and head back home, I stepped away to the bathroom. What I didn't see was our waitress Morgan take advantage of my absence and leave Paige a note with the check.

He just walked out and she's standing right here

She loves the boy more than she loves the girl in the mirror

The girl in the mirror used to know who she was

Now she's up wondering why she's not enough

When we got home Paige immediately pulled me into a heavy kiss and things started getting heated very fast, that's until the receipt from tonight's dinner fell out of her pocket with a phone number and “just in case you get bored” scribbled on the back of it. I didn't know what I was more shocked about, the fact that she had the balls to give that to someone who was clearly taken or the fact that my girlfriend had kept it. I grab the paper before Paige can even though she did try “What the fuck is this?” I asked with an angry feeling I'm starting to get to know too well. “It's nothing” she said defensively, “Really, because it looks like you were planning to take up up the offer to use this phone number for a booty call, I knew she was giving off bad vibes. I should've never left that table.” I shot back. “Chill out, I didn’t even notice it” she said, “Oh please save the lies Paige you and I both know that's not true. What were you going to wait for us to get in another fight and go fuck her while I'm at home crying my eyes out” I replied with my eyes getting watery “well it would be nice to have someone to fuck, we haven't had sex in weeks, all you do is find something new to be insecure about and then cry because I don't want to hear you nag in my ear. Gosh y/n you're so freaking annoying sometimes I swear” she shouted, grabbing her keys and walking out the front door slamming it shut. Is that really what she thought of me, was I  just a placeholder until she found someone else just so she wasn't alone. I stood there for a second taking in what just happened and then decided to go get ready for bed, i wasn't going to spend my night crying even though it's all I really wanted to do.

She's wearing the dress that I wore out tonight

I'm the girl in the mirror, that's why

She looks just like me but I don't recognize her

She's got the same eyes but they're heavy and tired

I walk into the bathroom and look at myself in the mirror trying to take in the person I've become. I constantly look tired from the lack of sleep, I’m breaking out from the stress of fighting so much , I don't think I can take it anymore.I don't even recognize myself anymore. I used to be so happy and vibrant, now you can see the light in my eyes slowly dimming. I didn’t see what my friends were talking about until now. I'm fighting for a relationship that only one of us wants and it's becoming clear that I love Paige more than she loves me and honestly more than I love myself.

Why it didn't work, well, it's perfectly clear

That reflection was enough for me to realize that I can't do this anymore. I can't stay here wondering if she's okay all night and then have her crawl into our bed in the early hours of the morning and act like nothing happened until we get into another argument. I need to put myself first. So here I was packing a bag to go stay with my best friend for a while until I can find a new place to live and start over. I need this, we both do. We're turning into the worst versions of ourselves and as much as this hurts it's a must if either of us ever want to be happy again. I finish grabbing my last bit of stuff from the bathroom and look up in the mirror one more time catching a glimpse of the necklace she gave me tonight. It's ironic that the night she said we'd be forever turned out to be our last. I took it off  closing the clamp and went to sit it on the nightstand by her side of the bed. Finally with that I'm off to start a new chapter of my life, I grab my keys walking out of what's now just her apartment, i’ll come back to get the rest of my belongings, but this was needed, I'm making the right choice for both of us.

I loved the boy more than I love the girl in the mirror

You can't love the boy more than you love the girl in the mirror

[lowkeyrobin]

reader has had a crush on Rory since they were kids when they kissed (for practice ofc) but rory just has eyes for Erica and it breaks reader's heart but is still supportive cause as long as rory is happy so are they and SOMETHING happens which means reader is slowly dying and rory doesn't realizes his feeling until it's too late and reader dies in his arms.....

holy shit Alex you are evil. when I said angsty mbav I didn't realize you took that personally 😭🙏 /lh /pos

RORY KEANER ; you don't know what you have until you lose it

summary ; you like rory, but he doesn't reciprocate

warnings ; language, death, talk of throwing up, influenced by some music bc I was listening to sleep token LMAO

track ; take me back to eden ; sleep token

word count ; 1.5k

masterlist

The only good thing about living in Ontario, Canada, was your friend group, the Supernatural Squad. Although you were just the comedic relief, you were the most reasonable and level-headed. You were still a staple to the group. You weren't very supernatural, however. Just an ordinary human who happened to be friends with a bunch of vampires, a witch/wizard, Benny couldn't decide on a damn label, and a seer.

You and Rory and Benny and Ethan were the two duos of the group that'd been together the longest. Benny and Ethan met in middle school, and you and Rory met in 4th or 5th grade when he moved to White Chapel. Sarah and Erica met in their freshman year, having been bonded over the lack of friends and their good grades in English and history classes.

You and Rory were a different kind of close. In every universe, you knew you'd met each other, one way or another. He was the funny, dim-witted vampire who was still a geek even through his transformation into puberty and vampirism. You, on the other hand, remain the second half of his comedy troupe, the smart and level-headed companion he needed to keep him mentally stable through all these new, weird things he was going through. He'd forever be 15 while you grew older, something you weren't too worried about right now.

You remembered like it was yesterday when you shared a first kiss for "practice." It was practice, really, Rory wanted to know how to kiss before he tried asking Erica out. However, for you, that was the problem. You didn't want it to be practice for him to be able to woo over Erica.

There was no doubt that Erica, the tall, blonde, vampire, was hot. Hell, if you weren't already head over heels for the younger blonde, you'd totally date her. But, that was the whole thing, he had googly eyes for Erica and you just solemnly looked at him with love stuck in yours like a curse.

But, of course, Rory hadn't learned about the phrase "you don't know what you have until you lose it." He wasn't expecting to lose you, nor was he aware that he even had you wrapped around his finger.

During the final fight with Vice Principal Stern, you'd gotten hurt, and hid it from your friends ; you saved White Chapel for good, ridding the town of evil. You didn't want to sour the mood about a wound that would heal itself, and you didn't want your friends worrying about something so small that'd disappear in time.

Stern hit you with a purplish magenta light-beam from his staff, leaving a very painful, burn-looking wound on your side. Over time, it didn't heal like you hoped it would, if anything it only looked worse, like your skin was decaying.

You had it wrapped up nearly 24/7 to prevent infection, the grey-ish skin was pruney and nasty looking from the amount of moisture. You'd only been living through the pain thanks to a lot of Tylenol, which you probably took a little bit too much of sometimes on accident. The center of the wound was a weird purple color, like a bruise, and it branched off like veins almost. It ran down your hip and up your torso, a grey color, acting as if you were a rotting corpse or something.

The theory was that it'd heal over time or completely disappear after a way since Stern was gone. But obviously, those were both incorrect.

You touch the wound, feeling a sharp pain radiate through the area as you pull your fingers away with a grimace. Your next idea was to ask Benny for a potion or something to help it go away. I mean, he had to have had some wound-dissolving spell or potion laying around somewhere, he was a witch for Christ's sake. It shouldn't be too hard to just ask for one.

That was easier said than done, however. He and Ethan wanted to know what it was for before he made it, and they wouldn't stop pressing after you said it was nothing. They eventually figured you out though, having been the first to notice and point out the veins spreading up to your collarbone and shoulders while you were all hanging out at Ethan's after school.

You kept telling them you were just tired and you had a cold, etcetera etcetera, the past few months, but after a while, they started to wonder why you were only looking worse. Then they persuaded you to just show them so they could help. You complied, showing them the wound you acquired from the final battle with Vice Principal Stern.

Ethan is the first to speak, quickly questioning you, "Dude, when and where did you get that?"

"Fighting Stern a couple of months ago." You shrug nonchalantly as you try your best to force your eyes open to stay awake, "Look, I just need something to make this heal or disappear, okay?"

Benny and Ethan share a worried look, barely able to look at your wound without cringing in disgust and the pain they felt for you.

⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡° ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡° ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°

Within another agonizing week, Sarah, Erica, and of course, Rory, had found out as well. So much for secrets.

All that week, no amount of drugs or spells or potions could help your condition whatsoever. You would frequently throw up and would have to skip class to go to the nurses office or sit in the bathroom while your stomach twisted and turned inside of you. Rory tried helping you as much as he could, carrying your things and flying you straight home after school, but it didn't help much, neither did the magical help from Benny and his grandma, it was like you were immune to it at this point.

You lay in bed on your side, a trashcan accompanying you for any biohazards. The veins now climbed up your neck, your shoulders, and down your legs, your eyes were made heavy by suitcase sides bags under your eyes, it felt like your eyes were swollen, yet they weren't. Rory sits beside you, one hand rubbing your shoulder as you mindlessly babble on, his other hand holding an ice pack to your forehead as you experience heat flashes.

The four other teens stand outside your closed bedroom door, trying to think of any ways to help you. They wanted to convince your parents to take you to the doctors, but how would you explain the massive wound on your side. And how would you explain that you were now a walking corpse acting like a shitty father after a trip to the bar?

"Y'know, Rory, I've always liked you, like, like-liked you" You giggle, ruffling his hair. "You're adorable"

Rory lightly smiles, not taking your words to heart.

"Really, please listen to me, R" You quickly place your hands on his cheeks, cupping his face, "I like you. And I know you don't like me back and shit, you like Erica and you're constantly talking about it, but I want it off my chest before this stupid thing probably kills me or starves me out of my body"

The blonde boy blinks a few times, and wraps you in a hug. "I'm sorry" He mumbles, remembering the fact you were definitely on your last limb here, "You're the best, most awesome friend I could ever ask for, so you're not gonna die! Wait- could I turn you into a vampire and save you? Would that work?"

You shrug, not wanting to get too excited, I mean, the others probably already thought of that and imagined a bad outcome.

The four walk back in to see you resting your head on Rory's lap, probably sleeping as he speaks up, his speech moving a million miles an hour.

"What if we turn them into a vampire? Would that work? I mean, they'd become immortal, right?"

The four look to each other and shrug, positivity shining through their worried expressions.

"Did they say they wanted to try it?" Sarah asks, "It's a big devotion... I mean, this is literally life changing, maybe for the better"

Rory nodded, "They said to ask you"

Sarah nods down, looking at you, "Ask them, I'll be downstairs, I'm gonna make them some tea" She lightly smiles, dragging Erica along with her.

Rory shakes your shoulder with no response, your cheeks pale as the veins quickly crawl up your face. He gets a little more aggressive with it, calling your name, the fear showing in his voice.

"Y/n, Y/n, Y/n? Y/n? Y/n!"

Ethan stands frozen, seeing your entire face begin to be engulfed by the weird infection. Benny begins shouting for Sarah and Erica, sprinting down the stairs as quickly as possible. The blonde turns you face up, seeing blood trail out from your nose.

You were totally limp in his arms, a sense of calmness painting your face instead of the now usual pained and tired look. You seemed peaceful laying there while your whole body is painted in a spider web like pattern.

"Y/n/n, please, wake up! I can help you!"

No response, your chest wasn't even slowly rising or falling anymore, you were just a limp, heavy body laying on him.

Tears prick at the blonde's eyes as he stares at your relaxed features, wishing that just maybe he'd thought a little sooner.

Maybe if he just thought of that a little sooner, then you'd be okay.

[sakasinterlude]

your touch burns like fire, i love it | carlos sainz x fem!reader

a woman, a man, a frisky DM, and a hotel room.

nsfw 18+, no minors pls

a/n: my first piece of writing in a long time, so let me know what you think. its long. 5.1K words so enjoy!

When you decide to send a frisky DM, you are more mad than anything else, wanting to get back and show your ex, that you too can fuck whoever you want.

You lean against the wall of the elevator and place your head back on the cold steel of the wall. Its not exactly anxiety that you feel, rather than a sense of giddiness, or maybe your just horny.

The loud ding of the lift takes you out of your thoughts as your greeted by the elaborate designed carpet and shining chandelier. You were very familiar with the five-star hotel, at least from the outside, it’s on your daily commute to work but never did you have an opportunity to step inside, until now. This whole day came about after an a rather eventful month or so.

Your long-time boyfriend Brian was a sweet, caring, and thoughtful partner. You met at when you attended your roommate/best friends Christmas office party with her. Instead of being swept up in the boring accounting office chat, you were blushing in the corner at the sweet words of the handsome man in the navy suit. Things transpired quickly between the two of you as a few weeks into the New Year you were already official. There were never any glaring red flags, and you were content with the pace and terms of your relationship, often spending evenings in his swanky high-rise loft apartment. Some may say complacent, but you call it comfortable and reliable, which is more than you could say for any of the past relationships you had been in.

Things started to go left when he claimed to be swamped at work. For a week, okay understandable you thought, but for over a month, and including weekends? Something suspicious surely. With some whispers from your loyal friend and roommate, you learned of the name Laura, a bubbly blonde 21-year-old who was just hired to work at the front desk. On her first day she spilled coffee over some important papers and sweet Brian had been kind enough to show her how to use the photocopier and made googly eyes at her for the rest of the day. “He was definitely smitten!” according to office chat your roommate picked up on. On nights where you would sit in his apartment, alone, your mind couldn’t help but wonder to Laura, knocking on his office door asking Brian if he needed anything before she left for the night. You imagined your boyfriend’s eyes wondering up the secretary’s legs, finding a tight pencil skirt hugging her hips. His cheeks would blush at the scene, the two all alone in this big office, the dark sky outside the window hiding their secret. You tried your best to shake these thoughts out of you head, but it was only a matter of time before you couldn’t contain yourself. One Sunday morning, when Brian wasn’t “working” your eyes caught something on his phone and the opportunity to bring up these lingering feelings came up.

“You got text.” You call out to Brian, who was in the kitchen making the pair of you breakfast. Sweet Brian.

“What does it say?” He replied, he doesn’t even turn his attention from the stove, he must trust you.

“From the Laura, should I reply?” Passwords were shared between the two of you, so replying on behalf of the other was normal.

You see Brian’s head whip around, before he abandons the hot pan, walking quickly to retrieve his phone. “Nope, I got it sweetheart.” He is overcompensating with his smile and places a kiss on your forehead before grabbing his phone and going back to the stove. He must think you miss how red his face got, or the initial wide-eyed look he gave when you said her name.

Long story short, after breakfast a rare fight between the two of you ensued, where you called out his shady behaviour and questioned him about Laura.

“Are you crazy? I would never cheat on you!” he throws his hands in the air. After many mean names and yelling back and forth, it was Brian who suggests a break, claiming the stress from working and the lack of quality time spent was clearly straining the relationship. You don’t even verbally agree, too mad to even speak, just grabbing your bag and coat from the corridor before leaving his apartment.

You don’t return until a few weeks later, when you decide to show up unannounced to make amends. But of course, who was it who held the door open for you when you walk into his building early in the morning? A young blonde, who looked like she had herself a night, sporting the same messy post sex hair and neck hickeys you once did. She shot you a small smile before complimenting your coat, of course Laura is sweet too. You don’t even make it inside, that was all the evidence you needed to know that Brian and this relationship was not worth saving.

You spent the week crying in bed, thinking of the wasted years you spent on this stupid relationship. Your roommate encourages you to get out in the world again, don’t let Brian win. That plus a bottle of wine, led you to DM Carlos Sainz on Instagram. When you decide to send the frisky message, you are more mad than anything else, wanting to get back at Brian and show him you too can fuck whoever you want. With that being said, it helped that that someone was insanely good looking. To say you were shocked to get a reply the next day was an understatement, but after a few messages back and forth, you received a time and hotel room number to meet Carlos that Saturday.

--

You readjust your dress straps as you count the door numbers around you. What exactly does one wear to a one-night stand, especially with a famous person? You settle for a mid-thigh length sun dress and sandals, causal enough you thought. 708 reads the door, but you can’t bring yourself to raise your hand to knock. Sure, you had slept with people other than Brian but never like this. Meeting online, random hotel room, not even a date before where you both play coy to the acts that will take place later that night. The sound of the elevator down the hall brings you back and before you can second guess, your fists meet the door, and you wait.

Carlos Sainz opens the door quickly; you hope he wasn’t watching you standing there through the peephole. He is even better looking in real life than on Instagram, if that’s even possible. Beautiful tan skin, slight beard, strong manly jawline and the most effortless soft looking hair. Its wet, he must have just showered, which explains why he has no shirt on. Oh my god. You meet his eyes as he has caught you staring.

“Hi.” He says it softly, giving a warm smile at the end. You give him the same smile back, not trusting your voice, accepting his outstretched hand inside the hotel room.

-

You stare out the window, looking down below, everything looks so small from here. Carlos left you in the bedroom, claiming he had to take a phone call in the living room. You didn’t even know hotels rooms came with multiple sections and rooms inside. The anticipation is killing you as now as it is definitely horniness you feel rather than anxiety.

You feel a gentle hand meet your waist; you turn to face Carlos.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” He says sheepishly. “It was a work call.”

“No problem.” You both gaze into each other’s eyes, his hand is still on your waist. “You know,” He takes a step forward, “You’re even prettier in real life.”

You can’t help but blush, turning your head away from his gaze. His fresh cologne scent is all around you now, leaving you flustered.

“I mean it, cariño.” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and takes another step closer, your only inches apart now. It’s easy to get lost in his eyes, they are so brown, and so warm, like chocolate or the perfect cup of coffee with cream or lik-

Before you can even comprehend your kissing him, and he’s kissing you. Those big firm hands of his run from your face, down to your shoulder pulling you flush on his chest. Your body feels on fire in the best possible way, his presence is everywhere now. His two hands go from your shoulders then neck, then under your jaw, sitting right under your ears, cradling your face, leaning down to kiss you. His lips are so soft but firm in the way they dominate and take control kissing you.

“On the bed,” A firm slap on your ass jolts you up, “Now.” Carlos turns to watch you waltz towards the large king-sized bed in the middle of the room. You crawl into the center of the bed, before turning and facing him with a sweet smile, sitting on the bed. You wonder where all this confidence came from.

Carlos saunters over to you, with an expression you couldn’t really read, his eyes a slightly darker shade of brown. He reaches the foot of the bed and just stares at you, stares. It doesn’t intimidate you, in fact it fires you up, yearning for his touch again. Like he read your mind, he grabs your right ankle, pulling you to the edge of the bed. You let out a squeal, taken aback from his movement. Now on your back, with his hand still on your foot, he crawled up your body, meeting eyes once again.

His lips ghost over yours, waiting, coming closer, then pulling away slightly. He takes his pointer finger from your ankle, and slowly runs it up your leg, leaving goosebumps in its path. Everything on your body is tingling and buzzing at every little movement he makes.

His fingers slide right up your leg, under your dress, stopping at your underwear. Still holding that intense eye contact, Carlos pulls your thong right down. Your jaw is slack at the action, which makes Carlos smirk, knowing he has you now.

Then the assault on your thighs begins, as Carlos leaves kisses and little nips on both outspread legs, ignoring where you want him the most. The feeling makes your back arch and your breathing hitch with anticipation. His teasing continues for some time, as your hands find his locks, enjoying the soft fluffy texture. You almost don’t notice the halt in movement, as Carlos’ eyes bore into your from between your legs. Slowly he moves closer, and closer to your center. Holding that same eye contact, he licks one long stripe up your pussy. You hiss at the sensation. Again, he repeats his movements, keeping the same slow pace, making you itch for more.

“Carlos,” You whine out softly, turning your head into the comforter, not being able to handle the scene below. The wait comes to an end as Carlos places a kiss right on your clit, before sucking the sensitive bud right between his two lips creating sucking sound in the progress.

“Fuck!” You yelp louder than intended but you couldn’t help it. The sounds of his moans, your moans, the sucking, and the licking were combining to send your mind into overdrive, no thoughts at all. Carlos takes your body language positively, starting to become very enthusiastic below, spreading your legs even wider and picking up the pace. The better it feels, the more you moan, the more it encourages Carlos. The cycle is vicious.

Your hands tightly grip the comforter beneath you, needing somewhere to release your distress, somewhere to allow you to keep holding on to this moment.

“Yes, Carlos! Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop!” The chant and shortness of breath brings Carlos to create moans of his own, leaving a satisfying mumming vibration to your clit.

“Such a pretty pussy,” He pulls back to swipe the pads of his fingers roughly back and forth on your clit, creating a slew of wetness everywhere. The sounds are downright nasty, as Carlos returns to sucking on your clit.

“Please! Please let me come!” You cry out, the world around you slipping away, as all you can think of is the feeling between your legs. Your cries bring a cocky smirk to his face, loving seeing you squirm, twist, and yelp out in ecstasy.

“How bad do you want it, hm?” Carlos asks, taking two long and thick fingers right into your pussy, slipping in easily. With the first thrust, your shocked at how deep inside you he goes. It’s only two fingers but you feel stuffed. Your mouth is left a gape, eyes rolled back, with the faintest whine escaping your mouth. The feeling is too much to describe so good, but so bad and you didn’t want it to stop.

“Fuck! Yes, hm, I want it so bad, please let me-“ His fingers curling literally leave you speechless as you can’t even continue your desperate pleas. Finally, the feeling hits you so hard your body stiffens in delight. Carlos takes his slender fingers and beings pumping in and out of you. There is no slow build up, just constant penetration as he shows no mercy on you.

You yelp out in pleasure as you cum all over Carlos’ fingers and drip on to the comforter below. He is relentless though, as he continues pumping in and out of you, enjoying watching your toes curl in pleasure.

 Your orgasm runs through your whole body, leaving you tingling. Considering the fact that it had been a while, coupled with the beautiful man whose mouth is still attached to your clit, you were more than pleased. All that was left was the quiet hums as you came down from your high, and the rough hands of Carlos running down the inside of your legs and playing with your fucked out pussy.

“Hey, enough!” You playfully scold, turning to the side, bringing your legs together. The overstimulation is killing you in the best way possible.

“You look good like this, cariño.” He is kneeling in between your legs, staring down at your twisted naked body and the wet crumbled sheets. Fuck, your beautiful he thought. “Now be a good girl and get on your hands and knees for me.” He says with a light tap on your thigh.

You do as he says, slowly but surely, flipping over to a doggy position facing the headboard. A sharp slap to your ass jolts you up, surely leaving a red imprint, but the string leaves an oddly pleasant feeling making you hum in pleasure. Carlos could touch you anywhere tonight and you would probably enjoy it. 

“Again.” You say, confidence once again taking over making you bold enough to call the shots. He complies, taking his large palm and beating it against your ass, this time harder. You gasp in pleasure.

“So, she likes to get spanked, huh?” Carlos asks, rubbing the sore red mark already forming. You hum in agreeance, sticking you ass out, rubbing ever so slightly on his bare thighs. You hadn’t even noticed him discarding his clothes.

“But does she like this?” The question makes you ponder for a second, then you feel it. The weight gives it away, and then the feeling of something long and big dropped between your ass cheeks. You had suspicions that Carlos would be a well-endowed man and you were correct. You turn your head to get a good look at his cock. Neatly trimmed, good length, and definitely girthy, you were in for it.

“Fucking hell Carlos.”

He looks down at you with a smirk, taking his eyes away from his nimble fingers rolling on a condom. He leans down over your shoulder, gets right in your face, and places a kiss on your lips. You can still taste yourself on his tongue. Before you can really get into it, he pulls away.

“I’m going to fucking ruin you, just like you asked me to, cariño.” He says sexily, looking right into your eyes, alluding to the direct message that began this all. You just hope you could handle it all.

-

Turns out you could handle it all. Well, just barely technically speaking. Carlos relentlessly pounded into you, causing your body to bounce with force into the mattress. There was a pillow placed just under your hips, slightly elevating your body, giving the perfect angle for Carlos. The arch in your back stayed, but your face? Buried into the white comforter below, surely leaving makeup residue from the force but also the tears that fall one by one from your tightly shut eyes.

Was it rough, was it nasty? Yes, and you fucking loved the feeling, relishing in the violent nature of Carlos’ thrusts. He used his big hands to tightly wrap around your waist, using you as leverage for his thrusts. He loved the sight of his large hands being almost dwarfed by the size of your ass, as he watched his cock enter in and out of you. Together your arousal made for great lube as Carlos moved with ease through your pussy.

The sounds are what really got you though. With doggy style came the infamous sound of skin on skin colliding. It was so rough, and loud, you don’t even feel sympathy for the neighbors next door for the constant sound of the rocking headboard. Lastly, the dirty talk. Carlos exsuded masculinity in every sense including his voice. The deep tone, the vulgar language all enough to make your feet curl.

“Fuck bella! What a pretty pussy.”

“You take me so well, I can feel you squeezing me!”

“Louder baby! I want to hear you beg for it.”

You could feel the beginnings of your orgasm start to creep up on you. The knot in your stomach, the tingling sensation all over, it leaves your jaw slack as you beg the man above you to finish the job.

“Please Carlos! It’s so fucking good.” You draw out in pleasure. “I want to come please!”

“Make yourself come on my cock, princesa.” With that his thrust halted, leaving you shocked for a moment. “Come on, you know what to do.” A light tap on your hips signaled you back against his cock. You repeated the movement, using your hands to guide your ass back onto his waiting cock. The feeling is just as good as before, maybe even better as you could control the pace, opting to go quickly in, then slowing down the exit. This allows you to really feel his length and girth slipping in and out of you sinfully.

“Good fucking girl, just like that. Keep going.” His voice is lighter now, just above a whisper, relishing in the pleasure below him.

You take his words as encouragement, squeezing yourself around his cock, drawing out moans from the both of you. It’s as if you could feel all the veins and lines on his member the way you were so tightly stuffed. His slight curve being the final nail in the metaphorical coffin that sent you over the edge, meeting perfectly with your g-spot.

“Fuccckkk!”

You call out in pleasure, followed by screams you could barely contain, even if you wanted. The orgasm hits you hard, leaving you tingling all over. You fell flat onto the mattress, unable to hold up your own weight anymore. That didn’t stop Carlos from placing his hands by either side of your head, lining himself back up with your entrance and plowing into you at a ridiculous pace. How he found the energy, you had no idea.

Carlos let out his own obscene sounds, closer to grunts, almost an animalistic moan, being encouraged by the way your ass bounced in response. It would surely leave a mark tomorrow. He spilled the last bits of his cum into you, finishing with one big thrust before laying half of his body weight on you.

It was now that you realized the eery quietness of the bedroom, only the sound of the AC blowing and the heavy breathing of the two of you filling the space. Both you and Carlos’ chest rise and fall in unison.

“Fuck.” He says breathlessly after a few moments. He runs his large hands over your face from behind you, brushing your hair out of the way before kissing your temple, cheek, then shoulder resting his head on your spine before removing himself from you. You both hiss at the sensation. Carlos flops onto his back right beside you, hands resting on his stomach with his eyes closed, attempting to catch his breath.

“You are something else, cariño.” He mumbles, turning his head slightly to peak one eye at you with a smirk.

You gave him a grin of satisfaction back before pushing yourself on your knees crawling to the edge of the bed, then kneeling on the floor.

“You have seen anything yet.” You say sultrily, tucking your hair behind you ears staring right at your prize between his legs. This gets Carlos’ attention, as he sits up slightly look at your doe eyes peering back at him.

“Fuck me.” Carlos was in for it.

-

So, there you were, perched on your knees, staring up at the beautiful man, slowly stroking him, up and down with the lightest touches, twisting your wrists. It was a sight for sore eyes, as Carlos leaned back on the bed slightly, eyes fixated back at you. He kept his hands resting on the mattress.

“Do you know how fucking pretty you are, bella?” He asks licking his lips and staring back down at you with a slack jaw.

You smiled in reply, humming around the head of his cock, as you brought it close to your mouth. You begin to tease him with your movements, tapping his tip around your mouth, on your cheek, never bring in inside though. You could tell this was rattling Carlos, as his ankles fidgeted and bounced by your thighs, as he tried to put his focus anywhere else in anticipation.

“C’mon princessa, you’re killing me.” He whines up above you. The pinched brow and wanting brown eyes make Carlos look so fucking sexy, as he is literally begging you to suck his cock.

“How bad do you want it though, hm?” You ask in a mocking tone, trying to supress a giggle from escaping. He tosses his head back in remembrance of those same words he uttered to your earlier. “Karma,” he whispers under his breath.

“You know how bad I want it. You can see how bad I want it.” He crocks out, alluding to the red, erect, hard cock of his being the kitten licked by you. Little drips of precum escape out from his tip, it pulls a groan out of the two of you. Both sets of eyes are locked in on the milky white bead of cum running down the tip. You lick it up before it reaches halfway down. Carlos is staring back at you in awe, with those pleading eyes, begging you to do something, anything really. You decide to put in him out of his misery and let out a thick string of saliva before lowering your mouth on his cock.

“Fuck!” He moans out loud. The sudden movements makes him sit up from his previous lounged position. You pick a steady pace, moving up and down fast, knowing Carlos had been teased enough. You suck up and down, as it doesn’t take much for him to reach the back of your throat. It causes you to slightly gag, but you continue. Dirty noises of wetness, gagging, and slurping make you rub your thighs together below. The tempo caused your hair to flow down towards your face. Carlos used his big hands to wipe your vision clear, holding your hair at the back of your head.

“There you go, just like that baby, fuck!” He draws out. The constant hums, whines, and moans from Carlos do wonders for your confidence as you wonder when you were ever nervous. You can tell he is really enjoying it based on the veins straining his face and arms.

“You taste so fucking good.” You hum, removing him from your mouth, using one hand to massage his balls. You sit back on your heels admiring the beautiful man in front of you. You give him a sinful smile.

Carlos looks spent above you, hair all tussled, sweat slicked all across his body, chest huffing up and down. He takes his cock into his hand rubbing the tip across your swollen lips, tapping it a couple times on your waiting tongue.

“C’mon baby, finish me off.” He grunts out.

And you do just that.

You take a deep breath before taking his whole cock down the back of your throat in one go. An animalistic groan comes from Carlos, but you keep going. You hollow your cheeks around him, sucking with some force up and down. Your force yourself to look up, making eye contact with Carlos as you can tell he is very close now. Removing your lips from his length, you take him into your palm, stroking him up and down.

“Fuck, princesa!” He cussing out loudly, but neither of you really cared.

“I want you to finish on my face.” You say calmly, holding eye with Carlos, above you.

“What?” He whimpers out, face softening. There is no way he heard you correctly.

“You heard me. Cum all over my face, baby.” Your eyes bore into his, becoming wide and pleading for the unimaginable. And who was Carlos to deny you.

He lets out a string of expletives as your wrist work quickly on his shaft, up and down, adding spit for good measure. At this point, Carlos’ whole body is stiff and strained, as he approaches his climax. He forcefully uses one hand to grip the back of your head, the other to take over stroking his cock. You close your eyes and purse your lips together waiting.

“Oh my god-shi-fuckkkk!”

You feel the warm liquid, spilling all along your forehead and down to your lips. It’s a heavy load, as Carlos uses his strong hands to direct your head around, making sure not to miss a spot. He groans out as he works on his masterpiece on your face, squeezing at his cock. You stick your tongue out for effect, tasting his sweet cum. Finally, the act ends, as your eyes are still close and Carlos pants above you.

As much as you want to soak in the moment, the thought comes back in your head, reminding you. You pat on the ground around you feeling for your phone that you slipped in preparation for this moment. Feeling the cold case on your left side, you flip it over, before handing it to Carlos on his lap.

“Take a photo of me.”

There is a moment of silence, as Carlos is actually shocked.

“God, who knew you were such a little slut, huh?” He replies with a chuckle, before taking your phone and pressing the camera icon on the bottom right. You feel him shuffle around for a moment, before the bright flash of your phone shines on your face. Carlos snaps several photos, getting different angles, as you stick your tongue out letting some cum drip down, even peaking one eye open. He tries to move quickly, before placing your phone back on the bed, and jogging to the bathroom. Your still on your knees waiting for him when he come back with a warm towel that he runs along your face and hair.

“Okay, I think I got it all.” He mumbles quickly, pushing some damp baby hairs behind your ear. You finally lock eyes, and you give him a sweet smile before leaning up to kiss him, which he gladly accepts. He cradles your jaw and tongue kisses you so hard you feel dizzy.

“Thank you.” You say sincerely looking at him in the eyes, after pulling away. You rub his hand that rests on his thigh.

This brings a laugh and confused frown to the Spaniards face. “For what? I should be the one thanking you.”

“I’m thanking you for ruining me.” You say seductively. You watch as his eyes go wide, before returning his signature smirk at you.

Carlos almost does not recognize you now, as he would have never accepted this confident, strong, sexy behaviour from the shy woman who walked through his hotel door a few hours ago.

--

“So, what exactly are you gonna do with those photos huh?” The pair of you are now cuddle up in the large king size bed, your leg draped over his middle, naked bodies intertwined. “Saving them in a spank bank for later?” Carlos jokes, he squeezes your shoulder in a playful manner.

In the events after, you both headed for the lavish bathroom, adorned with the largest shower you have ever seen. There are all kinds of buttons and settings, even a touch screen to activate the steam. But you and Carlos stayed busy, going one more round in the shower for good measure. He had you pinned against the wall with your leg wrapped around his waist as he pounded into you.

The mood is much lighter now, as you lay together, the TV playing a random sitcom as you make light conversation.

“No, actually.” You start, a light blush starts to creep up your face. “My ex-boyfriend invited me over tonight at 8, his place.” You use this time to glance at clock above the TV, you still have a couple hours to spare.

“He is cooking me dinner, my favourite. He thinks we’re getting back together.” You say with a little chuckle. Carlos looks amused, as he tries to fight back a smirk.

“Little does he know I have a surprise of my own.” You reach for your phone that’s tossed somewhere beside you. Taping the screen your phone comes alive displaying the image taken just moments ago as your new lockscreen. A break of laughter causes Carlos to almost sit up, as his hand flies to his jaw in shock.

“Oh my god.” That’s all he can say really.

It was difficult to pick just one of the sexy pictures Carlos had taken. But you settle for one in which your face is covered in cum, tongue hanging out catching the residue. If you look closely, you can spot your right hand stuck in between your thighs.

“He was a terrible boyfriend, but makes great steak unfortunately.”

[oriistar]

Googly Eyes

Sun x GN! Reader

Summary: A slow day at the plex leads to a lot of things and finding ways to entertain Sun was one of them.

Warnings: Just Fluff!

Today was an unusually quiet day throughout the Pizzaplex. The hallways and open rooms that were usually teeming with activity were early silent with only the sound of heavy rain hitting skylights and muffled thunder off in the distance. There was a freak storm passing through the city that had left streets flooded and electrical wires down. Every time you checked your phone you were met with news article warnings to seek shelter and refrain from traveling anywhere until the storm passed. Faz Co was an incredibly shitty and greedy corporation though, and had sent out emails to its human staff detailing the fact that no employee was permitted to miss any amount of work during the storm. Failure to show up for your assigned shift would lead to immediate termination. You were about 98% sure that you and the other employees could sue for such a claim and as far as you could tell, a very vast amount of your coworkers had in fact skipped out of work for the day and possibly the days after until everything outdoors went back to normal. You were not so fortunate though.

Being a broke college student that was hardly making ends meet as it is didn't give you the luxury of tossing away a decent paying job and honestly? What you were making now as a daycare assistant for the plex was far more than you could earn as a fast food worker and you weren't so keen on simply throwing this job into the gutter on account of some bad weather. Even if that bad weather might have been kind of life threatening. Why the damn place insisted on being open today was beyond your comprehension though. You practically had to swim to the doors to get here this morning and it was already almost noon with no sign of a single customer anywhere. You were glad that no one was stupid enough to even try to bring their children here on today of all days but it did make you question your own sanity a bit. 

All things aside though, it wasn’t too bad being stuck in the plex while a huge storm raged on outside. As cheap as Faz Co was, they didn't skip any corners when constructing the building and you honestly felt like you’d be safer here than at your rundown apartment that leaked whenever it rained anyway. At least you were smart enough to bring a few things to keep you occupied for today. And so here you were, lounging across one of the huge bean bag chairs with your old tablet propped up in your lap and playing Gordon Ramsey’s ‘Kitchen Nightmares’ at full blast since there weren't any children around to hear it anyway. Your coworker; however, was not so happy about the show choice as he leaned his large circular head over your shoulder so he could watch as well. 

Sun was very noticeably bored today. Usually he’d have so much to do but with the daycare empty for the day he just didn't know what to do with himself. He had been pacing back and forth before he decided to lay on the floor beside you and now he was making comments about the show. “He’s just so mean!” Sun exclaimed as he leaned closer, one of his firm silicone rays pressing against your cheek. “I don’t know how you enjoy watching this…” The animatronic gave another heavy sigh as he flopped fully onto the padded floor beside you. You just shrugged in response, too absorbed in watching Gordon yell at some incompetent manager to worry about Sun dying of boredom. 

He huffed again before he rolled a few times and sprung up to his feet. You glanced up from your tablet as you shoved a chip in your mouth and watched as he took long strides over to the craft nook of the daycare. Deciding he wasn’t doing anything he wasn't supposed to, you went back to watching your show. You heard the jingle of his bells as he approached and were vaguely aware of him sitting beside you and messing with something but you didn't really mind as long as he wasn't whining in your ear again about the foul language that often came from the show you were watching. Sun began to hum along to the daycare theme that was playing quietly in the background and you could feel his hands brushing against the sleeves of your Superstar Daycare branded hoodie. You relaxed a bit further into the beanbag chair and let him do whatever he wanted, finding no harm in him fiddling with your clothing and soon he had drifted from your sleeve, to your shoulder, and even around the back of the beanbag chair. 

After the episode ended, you turned your head to see what Sun was up to only to jump in surprise as you sat up and realized that he had been sticking fucking googly eyes to you this whole time. “Sun, what the fu- heck are you doing?” You questioned, catching the curse before it could slip out. Sun just hummed in response as he grinned mischievously, sitting with his legs crossed and a half empty sheet of adhesive googly eyes in his hand. “Well, you weren't giving me enough attention Starlight..” Sun said, his rays spinning from side to side as he watched you, “So I figured, if you had more eyes then you’d be looking at me all the time!” He laughed, falling onto his back as he kicked his feet and giggled as if his joke was the funniest thing in the world. You were not so easily impressed. 

“You are one weird clown.” You said with a sigh but your expression cracked a little as you smiled at him. Sun didn't seem at all offended by your words as he pushed himself up and quickly crawled over to you. He shoved your tablet aside and flopped himself across your lap in its place, nudging his head up against your hand just like a cat. You rolled your eyes and began to stroke his rays in the way you knew he liked and he sighed happily in response. “You’re just a huge baby, you know that right?” You asked him and he tilted his head a little in your lap, his rays retracting where his faceplate met your thighs. “Yeah, but I'm your baby aren’t I?” He asked innocently and you felt your face warm in response. You scoffed and shoved him off your lap as he started up his giggles again. 

“Okay, whatever weirdo. You better help me get these googly eyes off or else i'll take all the glitter glue home with me tonight.” Sun gasped at your threat and jumped back up immediately, removing the googly eyes from both you and the beanbag chair while pleading with you not to take his precious supply of glitter glue. You were pretty sure he ate it when everyone was gone but hey, everyone has some freaky habit so you couldn't really judge him too hard. You just laughed as you let him pluck the sticky eyes off of you.

All of my writing is original work created by me. Please do not repost, translate, or alter them in any way.

[galaxiasgreen]

🍭☀️A Cruelty Vivid and Sweet

Slow burn angsty Ominis x F!Reader [T-Rated, 8.7k words]

"I can't lose him," he whispered, a shattering realisation. "Not like I lost Anne, and... and you." "You haven't lost me." "You are the one good thing in my life right now," he said, voice broken with rage and pain, "and we can't even talk in the hallway!" You leant against him then, shoulder to shoulder. And there it was, like clockwork. Strawberry laces. "Then let's be two normal people right now. Just... for a little while. Like before."

In which, with his relationship with you a secret, Ominis tries to pull his best friend from the brink of darkness.

Tropes: angst/ romance/ drama, slow burn, black cat x golden retriever, opposites attract, forbidden love, pure-blood culture, canon rewrite, book!canon compliant, Ominis meets the Sallow Twins, Forced Proximity, Denial of Feelings, duelling practice, the Relic Quest.

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3. A Secret Friendship

From then on, your friendship together was a secret.

Ominis' growing feelings even more so.

There was a forbidden agreement between you that, to save you, and to save himself, you wouldn't interact in the outer world. No cheerful waves in the hallways, no hanging off each other's arms between lessons. The only way to communicate was through notes, traded like secrets, a folded scrap of parchment slipping into his robe or your pocket. Ominis doubted Perry Malfoy and his cronies would bother to learn braille at his expense, after all, and this way you could keep in contact without breaking the façade.

Your grasp of it was clumsy though. In your impatience, you forgot words like the and a, your cadence was robotic and primitive, and one time you forgot the L in public, which made him snort so hard he got detention in History of Magic.

When notes weren't needed, or seemed too risky, there was the language of touch, even more heretical to his family's values, and even more seducing. Your elbow a gentle nudge to his side, in the hallways, on the front lawns, your pinkie brushing his in class, lightning through his skin. They were fleeting, these moments of connection between you, but no less potent.

No less desired by him.

Even though you were a social creature, most energised when you spent time with your friends, you took to this naturally. No matter how tedious, you lived for the notes, for the secrets you shared. Your mood improved drastically, he could sense it, freed of your previous burden.

He felt the same too. Lighter on his shoulders, his heart.

On days when the both of you felt the most daring, where the stars aligned for a culmination of your letters, you met him under the Astronomy deck, when everyone was away at the evening feast, to have a little feast of your own, an eclectic mix of sweets sent from your family and treats bought at Honeydukes. It often left Ominis feeling a little sick, but he never minded, not when it meant he could spend time with you. Sometimes Sebastian joined in – but mostly not, his attentions captivated by his search for a cure.

And, Ominis was starting to realise, by Missy.

"He fancies her sooooo much," you said to him one day.

Ominis reclined against the wood. Even wrapped in blankets by a lit brazier, hushing the cold, he wasn't comfortable – he never would be, not when this meeting was illicit, stolen from beneath the stars. But there was something about you that relaxed him enough to forget it all, even temporarily.

"Do you think it's requited?"

"Er, yeah. Those two are always flirting." You threw a popping candy into your mouth, and it crackled as you spoke. "And goodness, you should see the looks they give each other. Seb makes googly eyes every time she looks at him, and she makes googly eyes when he's not looking."

For once, Ominis was grateful he didn't know what googly eyes were.

"What's she like?" he asked, curious. "Missy?"

You waited a moment, fishing for the right words.

"Intense."

"Like Sebastian then."

"In a different way. Sebastian is hell-bent on finding a cure for Anne. He has one goal in mind. But Missy isn't driven by one thing alone... but I don't know what drives her. She's extremely good at everything she does, spells and history and theory, but she always seems... guarded."

"Naturally, you took that as a challenge."

You made a raspberry noise. "No! I just happened to stand next to her in Flying. She's the sort of person you want as your friend, not your enemy."

That alone troubled him. "And paired with Sebastian makes a dangerous cocktail."

"You think she's encouraging the Dark Arts?"

"I know she's encouraging the Dark Arts."

You didn't reply to that, as unsure as he was.

"She's not a bad person, but she's definitely... hiding something."

She had her secrets. He had his as well, but his didn't try to lead his best friend into the waiting arms of Dark magic. Into Unforgivable Curses and choices that could not be taken back.

Letting Sebastian embrace the darkness was an option Ominis didn't even think to entertain. He was family, after all. Like you were, like Anne. A steadfast companion through thick and thin, through his best days and his worst – and now, when Sebastian needed him most, Ominis would not turn away.

A choice made despite its painful consequences, he now realises.

He remembers the first time he met him, all those years ago. It was not, in fact, in the dungeons of the Slytherin common room, their beds next to each other in the dorms by fate, but earlier, when they were both eleven and the Malfoys hosted an expensive soirée to officially welcome the new incoming year into the magical world.

Ominis already had his new wand and was relying on it excessively, since he discovered with its power his senses were more acute to his surroundings. It pulsed intermittently, moulding the world around him to a language he could understand. The Malfoy Manor ballroom was lit by chandeliers, torches burning along the walls, and a hearth, twice his height, the heat from it alone enough to make the whole house swelter. The floor was polished, heels squeaking along its smooth surface, and scents interwove like tapestry, roast pork and lavender bouquets and a tangle of overwhelming perfumes. How vast it all was, how grand. He imagined this was what it was like to see, to drink in the sights greedily, the world beyond his fingertips fascinating.

Unfortunately, to everyone else, it was not as fascinating as he himself.

"Behave yourself tonight, Ominis," his mother hissed to him as she shucked her coat, dropping it with a whumph onto a tiny house-elf's waiting arms. His father hadn't been able to attend, so she had taken his place, just as callous and stern, caring as much about family connections and alliances as the rest of them did. "Make friends with the older students. They will be your guides. The Nott girls are two years your senior, for example, and one of the Lestrange children three."

"Isn't there anyone starting in my year?"

"A few." Her sneer was audible. "The Reyes have a daughter – Imelda. I've never liked her mother, so uptight and condescending. The McDowells as well, but there's a rumour her father was unfaithful, probably with some Mudblood. It's a shame. The Malfoys, Blacks, and Ellingboes all have their children starting next year."

For some reason that brought him relief. His mother didn't let go of his collar though, thrusting him in front of her society friends and their progeny, sometimes too young for Hogwarts, sometimes having already started. Questions arrowed his way were never about his personality, his likes or dislikes – always, they opened with his eyes and their murkiness and the sight he did not have. One boy even farted and asked Ominis whether he could already smell it, which earnt a cuffing from his father, and led Ominis' mother to pull him away in disgust.

"Ominis," his mother said at one point, dropping her forced, sycophantic pitch. "You remember Phineas Black? He's the current headmaster at Hogwarts."

Oh, Ominis remembered Phineas Black all right. His unpleasantness was legendary.

"You will behave, won't you, Gaunt?" Professor Black spoke down to Ominis, voice a dismissive rumble that said he'd soon forget this exchange ever happened. "Every year there's always someone making unnecessary paperwork for me. Last year a group of sixth-year Gryffindors thought it would be funny to jinx my quills to sing every time I wrote a letter. If it were up to me, I would've had them lashed for insolence."

"It's what they deserved," his mother agreed.

"Alas, capital punishment is rather frowned upon these days. I had to settle with detention instead. And scrubbing the entire Hall of Herodiana with a single toothbrush."

Staying silent, Ominis thought, was the wise move.

Soon his mother tired of brandishing him like a prized Puffskein, leaving him unattended at the buffet table to entertain her friends. Ominis was alone – lonely, when the sounds of laughter and music were suffocating from the inside. He clutched his wand, using it to navigate to the closest wall, where a cascade of belladonna draped over stone. How was he supposed to network? There were too many bodies, too much noise.

"You're Ominis Gaunt."

In the chaotic din of the ballroom, he hadn't heard the snooty boy come up. He tuned to the voice, scolding himself inwardly. Pay more attention. "Yes."

"I'm Peregrine Malfoy."

Well, at least finding the Malfoys had been easy. Ominis frowned. "You're nine."

"Nearly ten."

"You don't start Hogwarts for another year. What do you want?"

"My father says I should introduce myself." Peregrine barely gave himself enough time to pause for breath. "What's it like being blind?"

The question fatigued him. "It's like being blind," he snapped, unable to help himself.

"That's not an answer."

"I can't give you an answer since I don't know what it's like being not."

"If you can't see, how are you going to do schoolwork?"

He thought about telling him about braille, but he was smart enough to know that Peregrine didn't actually want answers. He just wanted to prod where he didn't belong.

When Ominis didn't say anything, however, Peregrine took it as a sign of composed aloofness, and dragged him over to his own clique of friends. It was an overwhelming few moments, shaking hands, first names flying into one ear and out the other, the only one he recognised being Dorothy Ellingboe – his cousin once-removed. He barely knew her, the Ellingboes being an old wizarding family that originated in Norway that extended a branch into England to strengthen the line. Yet Dorothy was a sneering, simpering girl that thought herself better than everyone else, ugly in temperament as well as voice.

"So you're blind?" asked the Fawley boy. "Why can't you just use a spell to make yourself unblind?"

He resisted the urge to sigh. He'd done this rigmarole a thousand times before.

"It doesn't exist."

"Bet it does. You just need to think about the Latin. Vide means see. Have you tried doing that?"

Never, because his parents had already done it.

"Maybe," the boy continued, "you could take a potion. The powdered root of asphodel, for example—"

"Quiet, Hector," Peregrine muttered, facing the door. "Look who's just come in!"

"No way," said Dorothy, sniggering. "I'm surprised they could afford the Floo Powder to London!"

"They look like they've just climbed out of a fireplace, all right," said the Black boy, Ominis didn't remember his name – some pompous star, no doubt. "Like those peasant Muggle chimney sweeps."

"Who is it?" Ominis asked, feeling stupid and left out.

"It's the Stone-Broke Sallow Twins," said Peregrine. "Look at what they're wearing!"

Ominis couldn't see, but he could guess – plainly adorned breeches, or a threadbare frock. He felt the shift in the room as they entered with their uncle Solomon. His mother had babbled about the Sallows once or twice – their parents had been Hogwarts professors who died in a freak accident – often accompanied with similar contempt, but she disdained almost all of pure-blood society, so who really knew what they'd done to invite so much ire.

"We should invite them over, shouldn't we?" asked Peregrine. "That's the courteous thing to do."

"Ugh, this again?" said Imelda Reyes, with an audible roll of her eyes. "Can't we just have one party where we don't butt heads with the Sallow twins?"

"You're one to talk, Imelda," Hector muttered. "Butting heads is all you do every day."

"Only because you make it easy."

"Don't be a spoilsport," Peregrine jeered at her. "Honestly, you're just as bad as Kaydence Lestrange. If you're going to ruin the fun, run along to your parents and be dull with them."

Imelda made a noise like she was going to beat him, physically throw a punch, but instead stormed off.

"Oi, Sebastian, Anne!" With no one to stop him, and Ominis a quiet observer, Peregrine called out across the ballroom. "Come over here!"

Even with this supposed history between them, Sebastian and Anne came over. The tension ratcheted up.

"What do you want, Perry?" muttered Sebastian.

"Peregrine," the boy snapped. "I wanted to introduce you, because it's polite – not that you would know politeness. You remember Hector Fawley, Antares Black and Dorothy Ellingboe, and meet my new friend, Ominis Gaunt."

Friend? Hardly. Ominis had half a mind to run off with Imelda Reyes, and fought to keep a shudder off his face.

"So, who did you bribe?" asked Dorothy.

"What?" said Sebastian.

"To get in, of course," she said, like she was asking about the weather. "No way Edwin Malfoy invited you."

"He invited us," Sebastian said through gritted teeth, "because we're starting Hogwarts next year."

Hmm. Ominis' mother had failed to mention that.

"Can you even afford a wand?" Antares laughed.

"Yes." A soft whip noise as he withdrew it. "Would you like to see how it works?"

"Sebastian," Anne cautioned, grasping his sleeve.

Antares wasn't deterred. "Oh, please. I doubt you know a single spell."

Peregrine laughed then, laced with taunting. "Even if he did, I wouldn't worry, Antares. It's not like that wand chose him. It's probably a hand-me-down from his dead, mud-loving parents."

Ominis was suddenly knocked to the ground, wand scattered out of his grip. There was a struggle above, and Anne's voice rose above the boys' grunts.

"Leave it!" she demanded. "For goodness sake, Sebastian!"

Sebastian shook her off, but the fury was there. "Say one more word—"

"You'll what?" spurred Peregrine. "Cry about being a sad orphan?"

"Boys," came a thundering voice. This one Ominis recognised – Edwin Malfoy. "What's going on?"

The scuffling stopped at once. There were two wide steps back, echoing in the sudden quiet of the ballroom.

"Just some light banter, Father," Peregrine said immediately, still and cool. "Nothing to be concerned about."

Sebastian hastily cleared his throat. He knew the boundaries, too.

"Nothing at all, sir."

Edwin made a noise of disbelieving. "Play nice, Peregrine. You'll all be going to school together soon enough."

But when he left, and Peregrine did too, Hector, Antares and Dorothy dogging his heels, it was with a loud snigger, one that promised that this altercation wasn't the last. Ominis wasn't sure whether anyone even noticed him, left on the ground, panicking as his wand was nowhere close. He palmed the floor in frenzy, terrified someone would tread on his hands.

"Here." Anne tapped his arm, then looped hers with his. "Let me help you up."

He stood. "My wand—"

"It's here." Sebastian pressed it into Ominis' shoulder, and he took it, grateful. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push you over."

He was pretty sure it was Peregrine's elbow that went wide, since he was standing right next to him, but an apology of any kind was novel.

"Are you hurt?" asked Anne.

"Just my ego," said Ominis, which made her laugh.

"Ominis Gaunt, right?" Sebastian contemplated a moment. "So you really are blind— ow! Anne!"

"Don't be so rude!" she snapped. "He already knows!"

He did, but he couldn't help but grin anyway.

"You don't like Peregrine Malfoy?"

"Don't like?" Sebastian crowed. "I'd rather lick the underside of a Graphorn's arse than—" He seemed to remember himself. "I-I mean, you know, he can be, er, difficult—"

"It's all right," said Ominis, grinning. "I bet a Graphorn's bottom spews a lot less manure."

Sebastian let out a hysterical bark. Even Anne giggled.

"Thank goodness. We thought we were the only ones who didn't like him. He's so pretentious."

"Hector, Antares and Dorothy can shove it too," said Sebastian. "Mean gits with bad manners. They're all the same. And we're the twins here!"

Ominis tried to picture them, identical, but all he could imagine was their voices, how they inflected the same, laughed the same, spoke in the same accents.

"Dorothy is my cousin, actually."

"What?" said Sebastian.

"Oh, no," said Anne quickly, "h-he didn't mean—"

"And she's horrible."

This time they all laughed.

"I don't understand though. Why don't they like you?"

"Because we don't have money," Anne said, harrumphing as she did. "Because we live in a hamlet and not a fancy house, like this one. Stone-Broke."

"And don't forget Mama and Papa," Sebastian added. "They didn't care about blood or whatever, and taught everyone at Hogwarts when they were professors."

"Like they could turn away the Muggle-borns!"

Aunt Noctua, then, wasn't the only pure-blood to have such radical opinions. He may not have totally agreed, not when he'd yet to meet a Muggle-born, yet to have these notions proven, but it made him like these two, this odd pair the society kids disdained, all that much more.

He stayed with them for the rest of the party. The pair were hoping to follow their parents into Slytherin, same as Ominis; Sebastian liked Aurors and fighting magic, whereas Anne was eclectic, her interests broad yet undefined. Both of them shared an insatiable thirst for knowledge, and eventually even Anne caved to asking about Ominis' condition: how the wand helped him, how he sensed the world. This time he didn't mind their questions. They treated him like a person, not a pet.

When the party was over, Sebastian and Anne promised to wait for him when he arrived at Hogsmeade Station on the first of September. They promised to see their first few months together, as a team. Ominis left the party feeling lighter than he had all summer.

"The Sallows?" A hum escaped his mother's lips when he told her of his new friends. "They're poor. No money to their name, and their parents were happy to educate the Mudbloods at school. Still, they're dead now, and I'm loath to admit they both come from good breeding..."

That had been good enough.

And indeed, Sebastian and Anne had been waiting on the first of September, as they said they would, on the platform. They'd walked into the Great Hall with arms linked, taking in the new sights, smells and sounds, and rejoiced when they were Sorted into Slytherin together. Anne had sought to make her own friends and establish herself independently, free from Sebastian's influence – the last thing she wanted was to live in her boisterous brother's shadow for her entire Hogwarts tenure – but always she came back to him and Ominis. They hung about in the Undercroft, playing Gobstones, testing new jinxes, enjoying their newfound freedom and space.

Eventually she grew fond of you too, like he had. When your schedules worked, you were a tenacious quartet, three pure-blood Slytherins and one, odd little Muggle-born Hufflepuff.

Once you were all best friends. You were family.

Now the darkness threatened to ruin everything.

When the Astronomy deck was occupied, Ominis invited you to the Undercroft. It was dismal there – a reason you didn't enjoy it as much as anywhere else in the castle. Not a reason he understood, of course, but he never pretended to comprehend your particulars, nor your need for natural light. Nonetheless, you agreed on occasion. It was private, it was his, and it was safe.

Until it was no longer any of those things.

He headed down the lift to meet you, excitement brimming in his bones. December had long since arrived, and the chill along with it, weeping from the underground walls. He'd come earlier than planned, prepared to make the place as welcoming as possible. Lit torches, pillows and blankets, sweets, whatever it took.

But as the lift clunked to a stop, a female voice drifted down the hallway.

And it wasn't yours.

"Don't you think you should tell him?"

"What? About our frolicking around for the triptych?"

"It's not funny, Sebastian," Missy scolded. "You can't keep the relic a secret. It's thanks to him that you have this spellbook in the first place."

Ominis' excitement vanished, replaced with the emptiness that came after a string of broken promises.

"I know that," Sebastian admitted, "but if it works, then he'll see we have nothing to worry about. If the relic really can reverse Anne's curse, he'll see that nothing was in vain."

"He'll find out one way or another."

"It won't be from me." There was a hopeful inflection to him. "And... from you?"

She sighed. "I... suppose not."

"I promise," he said, so believing of own delusions, "it's for his own good."

Ominis threw up the gate then.

"I'll decide what's for my own good."

He sensed it then, the small things. A sharp intake of breath. Sebastian's fingers on crinkled paper – his feet moving to block the book.

"You lied to me," Ominis said, thrusting his wand at his friend. "You swore—"

"I actually said I understood—"

"Don't be deliberately obtuse. You knew exactly what you were implying."

"Ominis, please, see reason." Sebastian was calm, which was even more infuriating. "I love Anne, more than the world. Wouldn't you do anything for someone you loved?"

"You're arguing a pointless moral question."

"Am I? You have Gibby, after all."

It was like stone in his gullet.

"Don't you dare compare our situations."

"Why? It's no different."

"I'm not resorting to Dark Magic to talk to her!"

"But you are half in love with her. You're willing to risk being a blood traitor to your family for her."

Hearing him say it out loud was unfathomable.

"I— I'm not—" he stammered. "This is besides the point—"

"It isn't." He pushed past Ominis, spellbook in hand. "We're both willing to do whatever it takes. You do it your way. This," he said, "is mine."

Sebastian had gone through the gate when Ominis yelled, "Your obsession will cost you!"

His friend didn't reply. Soon the lift ascended the shaft, and Sebastian was gone.

Missy stepped forwards. "Ominis—"

"No, you don't get a say!" he barked. "You shouldn't even be here. This is my place. I didn't invite you. Sebastian shouldn't have brought you here!"

"He— he thought you'd be okay with it," she said quietly. "I would've found this place eventually."

"How? Only the Gaunts know of it!"

She didn't answer. Typical.

"I know you've been encouraging this— this madness—"

"I want to help him," she insisted, "but I'm trying to rein him in. I promise."

"Your promises mean nothing to me."

The gate opened then. In you ambled, jovial and beatific.

"Hello!" you piped. "I passed Sebastian on the way here, but he— Missy? What are you—?"

"She was just leaving," Ominis said.

Missy hesitated – a second, two. There was more she wanted to say.

Then, "Yes. I'm sorry to disturb you both."

When she left, you pattered over, joy diminished.

"Something happened, didn't it?"

He blew breath from his teeth. "Something always happens."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Frankly, all he wanted to do was scream, but telling you would do for now, though he was careful to leave out the being in love with you part. The way Sebastian threw it out there so casually... it unsettled him that these secret feelings he'd been trying to quash were so conspicuous. Sebastian was reckless and willing to do anything – would that include divulging Ominis' darkest secret? Did he have to fear the power his friend had over him now, too?

By the time he was done, both of you were leaning against the pillars, your legs tucked against your chest, his anger decaying to a low ache.

"But he doesn't know where the relic is?"

"It's only a matter of time." Ominis was certain of it.

You hummed. "I didn't realise how bad it was. Poor Anne..."

Anne, the victim in this, had her voice filched by her brother a long time ago.

"I'll write to her tonight," you said. "Sebastian has always been too headstrong for his own good."

"I can't lose him," he whispered, a shattering realisation. "Not like I lost Anne, and... and you."

"You haven't lost me."

"You are the one good thing in my life right now," he said, voice broken with rage and pain, "and we can't even talk in the hallway!"

You leant against him then, shoulder to shoulder. And there it was, like clockwork.

Strawberry laces.

"Then let's be two normal people right now. Just... for a little while. Like before."

Before. The nostalgia was painful. He missed those simpler times, when it was you, him, Sebastian and Anne, parading around Hogwarts without a care in the world.

Now Anne was cursed.

Now Sebastian was obsessed.

Now you had become a dirty secret.

And he clung to you, begging fate not to steal you too.

He smiles now, a memory coming back to him fondly. A memory of first year, after Christmas lapsed and the snow and ice were finally retreating from the grass. Exams were looming on the horizon.

And you were doing terribly in Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Though you were Muggle-born and humbling to the magical world, though you knew your grades were poor enough to raise concern, you swaggered into the Clocktower Courtyard that afternoon like an untouchable knight.

"Someone's confident," said Anne. She, and Ominis and Sebastian, had been waiting for you.

"Always," you trilled. "I may be the worst duellist in Hufflepuff—"

"Try the whole year," muttered Sebastian.

"— but I have the most fun, so who's really winning?"

Ominis snorted. You swatted his arm lightly.

"You're going to fail the class if you don't get better at duelling, so," a little teasing fluttered through Anne's declaration, "we're going to be your new teachers."

"You may only address me as Professor Sallow from now on," said Sebastian airily. He paced, drawing Ominis' ear across the courtyard. "And I don't plan on going easy on you."

Your bravado vanished "Do we really have to do this? Have you all fight me at the same time?"

"Diamonds are made under pressure, aren't they?"

"I don't want to be a diamond. A nice, sturdy rock would do."

"You sound scared, Gibby."

"Of course I am! It's three against one!"

"All you have to do is protect yourself," said Anne. She stepped backwards six paces, and Ominis copied. "A simple Protego spell. Okay?"

"If I say not okay, will you leave me be?"

"Stupefy!" Sebastian cried.

"EEEEEK!" Instead of blocking, you pitched to the ground as the spell hissed on stone behind you. "Hey! I-I wasn't ready!"

"Sometimes you won't be ready!" Sebastian said darkly. Then, "Come on, Ominis. Help me."

He wasn't certain attacking you this way was the best way to learn, but, well, there was something about diamonds and pressure. Hogwarts was a safe haven, protected by enchantments more powerful than a dynasty, more ancient than a family tree, but the outside world wasn't so kind. It was cruel. He wanted you to prepare, because Sebastian was right: one day you might not get the chance.

He shifted his weight. "Impedimenta!"

You dodged that one, too.

"Ominis!"

"What?"

"You're being— mean!"

He threw up his hands in exasperation.

"Come on, Gibby! At least try!" Anne's boots scraped against stone. "Accio!"

You stumbled forwards. "Ack! P-Protego!"

"Crus Vacillare!"

A soft thud. You tripped over yourself.

"Too weak," Sebastian called. "You have to mean it."

"I-I am meaning it!" You stood. "I-It's just— hard!"

"How about we make it more interesting?" he suggested with a flinty smugness. "If you don't cast Protego successfully... we all get to eat your sweet stash."

Your gasp was unfiltered. "You wouldn't."

Ominis sighed. He would.

Sebastian danced on the balls of his feet. "Again!"

Anne's voice was clear. "Aqua Eructo!"

"P-Protego!"

Water gushed forwards, but judging by only the slight squeal you let out, your charm had been slightly successful.

"That's more like it!" Sebastian yelled. "Again! Impedimenta!"

"Prote— ah!" You were laughing suddenly. "Look! I'm sooooo slooooow."

"Gibby!" Anne cried. "Do you want us to eat your year's supply of Fizzing Whizbees?"

"And all your toffee nougat?" added Sebastian.

"And," Ominis smiled, "your strawberry laces?"

"Okay, okay! I swear I am trying." You inhaled deeply. "Give me the one-two, Ominis!"

He wouldn't attack you very hard. Despite everything, he couldn't bring himself to.

"Levioso!"

"Protego!"

Zing. The spell lanced off the shield.

"Ah!" you cried. "I-I did it!"

Anne came closer. "Only because Ominis is holding back," she sang.

"He's not!" A pause. "... Are you?"

Ominis grimaced, which made Sebastian snigger.

"Boo!" you pouted. "I-I could defeat you, for real!"

He sincerely doubted that. His family had been instilling duelling technique and practice since he got his wand, in first year. It was imperative, they believed, that Ominis learn to defend himself, use his magic to the fullest potential, to prevent their 'enemies' from taking advantage. Their words. It was why he knew Crucio so early into his education, why he knew too much about Dark Magic. He suspected there was more to it – that they feared, because he was blind, he was more susceptible to defeat. Still, he liked to think he'd done well to keep up.

But he was nonchalant with you, not wanting to pop the balloon of your confidence. "Are you challenging me to a duel?"

"Yeah, I am! Let's do this!"

He swung around to create space between you, amused – but if it helped to improve your grade, he was glad.

"Two Sickles says Ominis ends up on his arse," Anne muttered.

Sebastian let out a single, hysterical laugh. "I'll happily take that bet."

"Thanks, Anne," muttered Ominis.

"Thanks, Anne!" you chirruped.

She was right though. For someone who'd only just learnt Protego, your ego was inflated. He had been holding back because he didn't want to injure you, nor your pride, but there was a fine line between that and arrogance. He raised his wand in your direction, preparing a list of spells to use.

"Duellists, bow!" Sebastian called.

He dipped his head. Presumably you dipped yours.

"Ready?" Anne called. "And... go!"

"Impedimenta!"

"Pro— eeek!" You rolled out of the way. "Wait— let me think— Stupefy!"

The spell skimmed his ear. Well. That was unexpected.

"Accio!"

"Protego!"

A great block. You squealed delightedly.

"That's it, Gibby!" yelled Anne.

"Flatten her, Ominis!" yelled Sebastian.

Ominis scoffed. "Impedimenta!"

You parried the blow again, retaliating with your own. He was starting to enjoy the competition, the fierceness of your pushback. You traded blow for blow with him, soon finding a rhythm that worked for you.

Sweat was collecting on his brow. "Diffindo!"

You cried out then, a wild howl, and crumpled to the ground.

"Nice!" called Sebastian.

Ominis smiled.

"Gibby?"

You didn't respond. You didn't move.

Horror washed over him – he hadn't meant to hit you so hard... he only wanted to graze!

Panicking, he ran over, robes fluttering. "I— I'm so sorry—"

"Flipendo!"

Suddenly he was gyrating through the air, spinning and helpless—

"Arresto Momentum!"

Anne's spell prevented him from smacking his head. Instead, he plonked to the ground, unharmed. Then you were standing above him, clapping, jumping with joy.

"Hahah, you fell for my trick! You did!"

He grunted, sore. "It was... clever."

A mistake. You let it fuel your slightly maniacal laugh.

"I am undefeatable! Unstoppable! Un... Un-attackable!"

"That's not a word." Still he filled with pride and got to his feet. "Well done."

"Yeah, good show, Gibby. Now you won't fail DADA miserably," said Anne. Then she coughed. "Looks like someone owes me two Sickles."

Sebastian grumbled and placed the tinkling coins in her hand.

"I have you all to thank," you said, humbler now. "I will carry these lessons forever, Professor Sallow, Professor Sallow... and Professor Gaunt."

But that wasn't end of them. From then, Ominis didn't underestimate you. He duelled you again and again, testing you, noting your mistakes, but he'd learnt from his own – not to fall for your trickery again. For any trickery. It gave him a sense of peace to know, should the time come, you could hold your own now.

A time, Ominis anticipated, that would come sooner rather than later.

"Where are you going?"

His and Sebastian's clashing ideas had been left unspoken, like shattered glass left on the ground between them, neither willing to pick up the pieces.

"I don't like the accusation in your tone, Ominis," said his friend, shunting another article of clothing into a bag. Their dorm was empty, a rare moment for a Friday morning. "I'm just going to visit Anne for the weekend. That's all."

But Ominis wasn't stupid – he heard the clinking of glass, the sharp, clinical scent of dittany. Who packed Wiggenweld Potion for a weekend home? It honed his suspicions immediately.

"I see," he said at last. "When do you plan to go?"

"Tomorrow morning, after breakfast."

"May I come along? I haven't seen Anne in a while."

But Sebastian was hesitant. "I'm sorry. I just... don't think it's a good idea."

Ominis relented. For now. When he left the dorm, he summoned the house owl with a click of his fingers. For once, he didn't give a damn if he got caught – this was something too worrying to go through the discreet channels with you. He had the Quick-Quotes Quill scribble the note.

Wooden Bridge, 6pm. Urgent.

At six o'clock, during the feast, he was there, waiting, leaning against the crooked panelling and let the biting wind chop across his hair and face. The air was parched today, snow impending but hesitant to fall. Even stacked in layers, a chill ran through him.

He heard the tell-tale clop of your boots, hurrying to meet him. Your breaths came out in shuddering pants.

"What's wrong?" you asked at once. In public, yet you didn't care, coming right up to him, halting a hand's reach away. "Are you hurt?"

"No," he said. "I'm sorry to call you out here, but it's Sebastian."

"Is he hurt?"

"I think he's about to do something stupid," he murmured. "And reckless."

You sighed. "I would have so many Galleons if I bet on him doing something stupid and reckless."

A fair point, but it was especially poignant now. After the argument, the feeling of trust in his friend had eroded. Now that trust was pocked with holes, and those holes were quickly filling with suspicion.

"Have you seen Missy?"

"Today? We did some homework during our morning free period. I asked her if she wanted to finish it tonight, but she said she was going to pack for Irondale. She's going there for the weekend – some catacombs, I think, to pay respects."

Irondale wasn't far from Feldcroft.

It seemed to click for you at the same time.

"You don't think— the relic—"

"I do," muttered Ominis. "In fact, I have a feeling I know where they're going." His heart thundered. "You said she was leaving tomorrow?"

"Yep."

"Have you seen her since this morning?"

You hesitated. So that was a no. Sebastian hadn't been around since the morning either.

They've already left.

You stomped your foot. "Oh, sugar, honey, iced tea!"

"... What?"

"Sugar, honey— never mind, Muggle thing. What do we do?"

"We have to go after them. If they've had a break-through with the artefact, it could put them in grave danger."

"But if they left earlier today, they could be there by now!"

He struggled to think. "Then we fly."

"We— fly?"

"Do you have a better idea?"

"But, Ominis— I'm a terrible flier! Madam Kogawa has made me take first year classes every year!"

He wanted to reach for you, to imbue you with confidence. Flying was your weak point, he knew. You loved the sensation – not so much the control it required.

"It has to be you. I can't navigate." He didn't want to push you, but this time he insisted. The stakes were too great. "If we don't do this... Sebastian and Missy..."

"I know," you said, defeated. "Ugh, okay. Meet me at the end of the bridge. I'll get a school broom."

It took you little over ten minutes, to rush to the front lawns and snag a broom from the cupboards. He heard the one you chose guttering over the horizon, shakily hovering to a stop next to him. You took his sleeve.

"I really think this is a bad idea. What if— what if we crash?"

"We won't crash."

"What if you plummet off the side and I can't catch you?"

"I won't plummet."

"What if Ranrok's loyalists shoot us down?"

"They won't spot us."

"... You're suspiciously optimistic."

"I'm moderately realistic," he corrected. "We don't have time to waste."

"Okay." Your grip wavered, even as you guided him to the broom. "Hop on."

It was a sudden hesitation that gripped him then, stuffed cotton down his throat. Because he hadn't considered how, exactly, he would be travelling. That for this to work, he would have to share a broom with you, holding onto your waist for support.

He swallowed, though his mouth was dry, and settled over the broom shaft. Already you were close – too close for him to fathom, the scent of strawberry laces suppressing the billows of pine and lake waters that swept in from the south. His fingers hovered, mere centimetres away from your waist. Even the brush of your coat was enough to drive his mind to catatonia.

"Are you, erm," you said shyly, "are you going to hold on?"

"Y-yes," he choked out stupidly, "right."

He reached around, looping his arms around you, pulling you close. Your back fit neatly against his chest, your heat and warmth abolishing the cold, your head tucking beneath his chin, a swathe of your hair under his nose. Already he was nervous, already he gnawed with worry for Sebastian and Missy, and yet this was the moment he almost unravelled. You were his safety. You were the wind beneath him, buoyant and uplifting.

"Hold tight," you mumbled, voice a vibration through his own chest, which only made him even more delirious. "Three, two—"

You pushed with your legs, sending you both cracking into the air. Stomach yanking down to his legs, his grip cinched, and he cried out as you shot them upwards so fast he didn't get to take a breath. You were hitting max speed too quickly. Wind churned around his ears, sluiced along his toes – you might have yelled something that he couldn't understand.

You steadied the broom, levelling them with the horizon, but he didn't dare loosen his grip. Flying was terrifying, and magnificent, and it was twice as terrifying and magnificent with you.

"Merlin's beard, Gibby! Slow down!"

"S-Sorry!" you called, fear and exhilaration evident. "I'm going right. Brace yourself!"

You leant starboard, and he leant with you. Now that you were pulling on the shaft, the broom slowed to a decent pace, enough that he could hear the sky. The distant rush of train and trees, the snake of the river that ribboned through the valley, a humming thread. Wind, carding through his clothes. He rested his chin on you, and your hair curled against his face, each tendril like a cat's tail, flickering and restlessness.

A thought came to him, unbidden. What would it be like to kiss the top of your head? To draw the hair away from your neck, and place his lips there too? Desire burned through him, drunk on adrenaline and nerves, and he had to clench his jaw to dispel the feelings.

Now was not the time. In fact, there was no time when such thoughts were appropriate.

Yet they came to him nonetheless.

"W-We're going between Irondale and Feldcroft," he pushed out through gritted teeth, through his useless feelings. "South of the mountain peak!"

He feared landing with you even more than take-off, but by some miracle, you managed to shakily jettison them between a cluster of trees, on an even patch of grass. The ground came up hard though, and he took the brunt in his knees, crying out as he fell to the side, the handle tangled between his legs. You stumbled off the broom into a patch of honking daffodils.

"Ack— Gibby?"

"I'm okay!" you chanted, voice pilfered by the tooting flowers. "Just bruised my bum! You?"

"I bruised my everything."

"... Touché."

You came over, sliding the broom from beneath him and helping him to stand. The touch was innocent, and yet your hand in his, with the flight fresh in his mind, hyper-aware of the proximity of you, stoked his cheeks to flames and his heart to a marching drumbeat.

You let go almost instantly, but it was enough.

"Well," you said, "that wasn't so bad."

"We almost died," he muttered. "Twice."

"My lowest record yet, so be grateful. Are we close?"

He withdrew his wand, and the scenery fell into place in his mind. The evergreen honeysuckle, dotting the nearby dirt paths, wending through the uneven terrain of the countryside. A flash of hard, callous stone. A funny taste of smoke and ash, like an unpleasant bonfire. Strange. Nonetheless, you were close – very close, in fact, that he recognised the nearest stretch of fencing, leading towards the Feldcroft Catacombs.

"It's just south of here," he said. "Let's go."

When you reached the cave entrance, the great stone wall had been moved. Someone was already inside, and casting Revelio showed that it was not too late, that the footsteps before you were fresh. You propped the broom aside and went to go in, but he reached for you, held you for a moment – that stupid feeling stirred within him again.

"Wait. Let's— let's think. I don't think it's a good idea they see us."

"Why?"

Truthfully, he didn't know. Perhaps it was only to see what they were doing. Perhaps it was only so he could have you to himself, just a little longer.

"We ought to be cautious," he amended.

You gasped, suddenly excited. "Ominis Gaunt... are you suggesting a stealth mission?"

"Hardly," he retorted. "Let's just— keep our distance."

"Okay." But you were practically bouncing. "We have to catch up to them first. We'll need to be quick."

"Lead the way."

So you closed your hand in his, and led him inside.

The way was dark and cold, a bone-deep sort of eeriness. You cast Lumos, and he did too, to help you see. Together you ran across the dust-ridden earth, over bones and rat droppings and the splattered blood of spiders, pricking the air with a tangy note. You shuddered when a few of the babies crawled into view, but it seemed that Sebastian and Missy had cleared the larger ones out.

Still, you didn't let your fears daunt you. It was quite something to feel your determination, vibrating through your touch, the tremble that went through you as you held his hand to guide him. It gave him courage and might, especially when the quiet sank deeply into him, an omen of trouble to come.

Only at the heart of the catacomb did familiar snippets of voice quell the silence.

"They're close," he whispered to you.

You cast Disillusionment, and he quickly followed. Your boots steps were light, but still the ground crunched. It was enough to let them pursue, closer and closer, until the voices crystallised.

"The relic must be nearby," Sebastian was saying – the desperation in his voice was like nothing Ominis had ever heard before. "I can feel it."

Missy tsked. "Stay focused. I believe there's another chamber ahead – and we have yet to face any of the matriarchs."

"Bet they'll be thrilled when they find their friends dead."

They hurried ahead – you followed.

"Thank you," Sebastian said suddenly. You stopped, causing Ominis to bump into the back of you. "Thank you for doing this."

"It's nothing."

"Nothing? You're risking your life for me, and for Anne."

She didn't reply.

"Why?" he asked into the brazen silence, surprise tinting his voice. "Why are you helping me? I know you partway agree with Ominis, and you barely know Anne. You barely know me."

"Can I not help anyway?"

"No one wants for nothing."

Missy was quiet a moment.

"Perhaps. I'm not entirely altruistic."

"So?" he asked again. "What's your price?"

And she said, "Redemption," like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Redemption?" you muttered to Ominis, at the same time Sebastian said, "Redemption for what?"

But Missy simply scuffed a rock. "Come, we're nearly at the end."

Intense and guarded indeed. You crept forwards on light feet, and Ominis dogged your heel, unsure what to make of the conversation.

There wasn't time to dwell when the spiders descended, great hulking beasts that shook the ground, all the way through his feet. He felt you stiffen beneath your grip – the sight of them must've been terrifying.

"T-There's so many—"

Still, Sebastian and Missy had charged in, spilling enemy blood against the walls.

"S-Should we help them?" you asked.

Ominis hesitated. "No. Perhaps— perhaps it will deter them."

But of course it didn't. The spiders kept coming, vicious wave after vicious wave, and yet, Sebastian and Missy's resolve never puddled.

"Depulso!"

Missy sent the spider soaring. Unfortunately, it landed on its feet.

Right next to you.

Disillusionment wasn't strong enough so close. The creature heckled, then screeched, sucking up venom through its body, guttering, preparing to shoot—

"No, look out!" you yelled.

It spat venom and you shoved him, hard against the ground. The concealment broke, but the venom hissed against the rock face where his head had been.

"Sorry— it was going to hurt you—"

"No time." He got to his feet, helped you and readied his wand. "Ready?"

"Can't really say no." Then, loudly and brashly, "Confringo!"

The spell blasted the spider backwards. Despite your terrible fear of spiders and insects, you ran into the fray and zapped another off its perch above. Pride reared through him again. That duelling practice, all those years ago, had not been for nought.

"Gibby?" Sebastian yelled. Then, with even more shock, "Ominis?"

"Less talking, more blasting!" he said.

One by one, the spiders were felled. It seemed endless, the onslaught – when one died, three more would surface their way up to take its place. He worried for you, panicked nearly, but remembered to trust you to defend yourself. In fact, you all shielded one another, in tune like an orchestra, thrumming to each other's beat. Sebastian's Exploding charms gave you the opportunity to flee when you were overwhelmed. Missy froze the spiderlings to let Ominis deal with the mothers. Then there were moments he couldn't explain – moments where even magic didn't seem to be the answer. Explosions like lightning, striking down their shrieking enemies, the air charged with a sharp tang of it. Always it followed Missy like a storm cloud, she its wild epicentre.

"Ominis," she called, "watch out!"

The spider had been in front of him – he was certain of it. But suddenly it was not, and Missy was stomping down, crushing shell and bone beneath her boot. How, when it is twice the size of me?

He let the questions fester until the spiders were all dead. Hot breath escaped him in shallow bites, there was foreign blood splattered on his front, and his arm was sore from casting so much, so frantically – but he was alive, and so were you, and Sebastian and Missy.

"What..." Sebastian managed a long breath. "What the hell are you two doing here?"

It was the offence he took that boiled Ominis' blood.

"I could very well ask you the same thing," he snapped back, advancing on Sebastian. "You told me you were going to see Anne!"

Still, Sebastian did the unthinkable.

He turned away.

"I knew it. You are here for the relic!" Ominis yelled. "Don't you dare, Sebastian—"

"Or what?" Sebastian challenged, swinging back to face him. "Why are you so determined to stop me? To stop me from helping Anne?"

"Because you are losing yourself! Because the Dark Arts seem harmless until it is too late."

"Anne is in pain every damn day!"

"A Dark artefact will. Not. Work!" His wand hand shook. "It will not reverse the curse and it will require a sacrifice too steep to pay!"

"You haven't tried! You can't possibly know what will happen!" He laughed suddenly. "Your family is broken, Ominis. You don't understand what it's like for me to fight for mine."

He was enraged, but a new feeling came swooping in, extinguishing and final. Hurt.

"That... that is a low blow—"

"Wait," Missy said, perturbingly cool. "Let's not argue."

"Yes," you agreed at once. "We can compromise."

"And you?" Sebastian scoffed at you. "Are you going to stop me, even though you love Anne too? Are you going to side with Ominis because you always do?"

Your reply was injured. "T-There are no sides, Sebastian—"

"If you're going to stop me, then there are sides!" he bellowed. Ominis heard the wooden whip of his wand. "I'm taking that relic. So step aside."

Ominis gripped his wand tightly.

"I will not."

"Stop," snapped Missy, and this time, she was no longer composed. She was firm, commanding. "We're not fighting. That's absurd."

"Only one of us gets our way," Sebastian muttered. "Are you going to strike me, Ominis? Are you?"

"Sebastian, go stand over there. Cool off, for goodness sake." Suddenly someone hooked Ominis' arm – Missy, dragging him away. "You, with me. Gibby—"

But you were already heading towards Sebastian. Ominis hoped you were talking it out, telling him why it was a bad idea – he had to trust that you could convince him.

He yanked off Missy's grip. "You can't seriously think taking that relic—"

"I know it's risky," Missy hissed at him, "but Sebastian has made up his mind. There's no convincing him otherwise. I tried."

"Not hard enough!"

"He's relentless, Ominis. The only thing we can do now is to let it play out, and minimise the consequences."

It was so ridiculous he laughed. "What was it you said you sought? Redemption?" He flung the word back at her. "Tell me, how does encouraging Dark Magic redeem you?"

By the elongated pause, he'd cracked through her impervious armour.

"How did you—?" Then, he was met with cold steel. "My reasons are my own and not for you to know. I'm trying to take the middle path here, but you're both being impossible."

"I'm trying to stop him making a stupid mistake!"

"And are you willing to ruin your friendship over it?"

His next words rammed themselves back down his throat.

Because the answer was no. He wasn't.

"Ominis," and he hated how perfectly reasonable she sounded, "there will be no talking him out of this. He is beyond reasoning now. So you either step aside, or fight. Your choice."

He knew what it was like to steep in the Dark Arts. He understood its allure, its false promises. Yet even so, he couldn't possibly let these years slip through his fingers like sand. He couldn't possibly release all the joy and jokes, the laughter, the pranks and brotherly love shared between the two of them. Sebastian was an anchor in the perpetual raging sea of Ominis' life. Anne had already been taken from him too soon, and you were teetering close to the edge, risking so much with his family's hatred encroaching you.

If Ominis lost Sebastian, he lost everything.

"You—" Anguish tore him from within. "I... I will step aside."

"A wise choice."

"But I will not stop fighting for him. I won't."

She didn't reply. She merely called Sebastian over to the relic, which fell into her pocket for safe-keeping, and then they were leaving.

"For what it's worth," Sebastian said as he passed on the way out, voice broken with his own hurt, "I... I'm sorry we can't agree on this."

Ominis didn't respond.

They left.

He was alone with you.

There was nothing to say, nothing that could be said. He felt his chest breaking, fracturing into pieces, slowly but surely taking his resolve down until it was lying in dereliction before him. A lump that had swollen in his throat became painful.

Why? he wondered. Why does the darkness haunt me so?

You didn't have to say anything. You simply took his hands in yours, rubbed your thumb over his trembling knuckles.

And he fell into your arms, and cried.

[FIRST][PREV][NEXT]

Thank you to my tag list: @cordidy @witchyafterdark If you'd like to be added/ removed, please let me know 💚

[Divider credits]

[gomzdrawfr]

So

hi look at my(Price and Raven's) son...lil Sparrow!!!!!!

some rambles below:

okay so [rubs hand together excitedly]

Sparrow is Magpie's lil brother!! they're about 4 years apart :3

Magpie is the exact copy of Raven, but she behaves like Price

Sparrow is the exact copy of Price, down to the messy hair and all, but he behaves more like Raven, except cranking up the shyness level

he's very skittish around others, so visitors are a big no no, gotto be one at a time

Price is ecstatic, and maybe a bit too excited which may have scared Sparrow a bit (Price sulked for a week)

Clung to Raven until he was roughly 8 months old (already a moma's boy), always holding her pinkie whenever he's with her

Gets extremely defensive of Raven too despite his shyness, one time standing in front of Raven proudly before a raccoon albeit he was all teary and jittery (Raven made sure to get him the finest toy that week, and oh feed him so much food - he's spoiled by Raven!!)

Despite his shyness, he's a very curious lad, big googly brown eyes that never fail to soften anyone's heart

Likes to ask Price and Raven about their prime years, holding the photos and medals with amazement (Price always tears up)

Speaking of, Sparrow tries to be like his dad, wanna be more confident and strong like his papa, so he often follow Price's talking pattern and secretly practice under the cover with his stuff animals (again, Price tears up once more)

Unfortunately, does not like fishing (Price is once again crying but for different reason)

Fortunately, really like knitting for some reason (neither Price or Raven liked doing that, they suspect it may have been Gaz's influence)

oh yes! Gaz and Soap takes turn to babysit Sparrow, Soap always tries to coax Sparrow with his shenanigan, and Gaz likes to help Sparrow with his homework

((angst ahead))

Sparrow is scared shitless of Ghost, rightfully so, because Ghost is big af, the first time they met Sparrow burst into tears immediately

Ghost, felt really bad, so he refrained from visiting, but does visit Magpie

Another reason was...Sparrow reminded him of Tommy a bit, so he was also kinda fumbling

Price tries to encourage Ghost to visit sometimes, but Ghost refused repeatedly, and then stopped visiting Magpie too

Sparrow inherently felt bad, he knew Ghost wasn't a bad guy, but he's also young and haven't seen anyone that size

((angst end, back to happy))

it took some time and convincing, but Sparrow eventually steel himself to meet Ghost

Was unexpected too, Ghost came over to drop Magpie, and wanted to go back but Sparrow holds his jeans gingerly, "we have pudding, Uncle Simon..."

Suffice to say, with a bit of sweetness and patience, they got along well

Ghost always always crouches and make himself look smaller around Sparrow, hushed tone and gentle

Although Magpie always pulling and grumbling around, saying Simon wasn't that gentle with her ((Magpie and Ghost are best friend and lil rowdy))

Sparrow knitted a small skeleton skull for Ghost as a gift, all shy about it too "Pa said you liked skulls..." (Ghost did in fact cry, but it came out as a weird choking noise and Sparrow panicked - they are okay!! more pudding to save the day))

im thinking up more hc and ideas!! but these are what I have so far ehe

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Birthday Boy

A/N: A little something for our favorite birthday boy. Written for @fandom-free-bingo Happy birthday Tony Stark! Leave a heart, comment or reblog if you enjoyed the story.

Pairing: Tony Stark x Avenger! F! Reader (our reader has Falcon-like abilities and Red Wing as well)

Warnings: 18+ smut, fluff.

Word count: 2675

Square filled: “You’re coming with me.”

Fandom Free Bingo Masterlist

.

“You’ve got one on your left, Y/L/N. He’s armed. And does nine o’clock work for you?”

Rolling your eyes, you ignored the last bit of Tony’s sentence and jumped into action. Disarming the Hydra soldier wasn’t a big deal for you, what was distracting was the constant commentary coming in from the snarky billionaire who was hard to push off.

It was his birthday and you were one of his closest friends, all he wanted to do was go out, party and spend time with you - meaning he wanted you to potentially hook him up with someone while he did the same for you. And then the two of you would bitch about your respective dates over breakfast the next day, laugh and get over it, like you always did.

But this time around it was different. You were finding it harder and harder to keep your feelings for the man at bay. You couldn’t remember when it all actually went from friendship to something more, maybe it was around your fifth bad date when you felt super down in the dumps, Tony had been the best listener, he always was, he just never got enough credit for it. You spoke all night, he wiped your tears and made you feel better about yourself. You felt truly seen and heard. That was when you realized what lacked in all the other boys that you had found in Tony, someone you wanted the most and someone you probably could never have.

Which is why you were avoiding spending another drunken evening with the man, you would probably end up spilling your guts and if he didn’t feel the same way, you’d be left heartbroken and you would lose a really good friend.

“Good job, Y/N. You’re a solid addition to the team, unlike Legolas over here with his carpal tunnel syndrome.”

You chuckled as you heard Clint swearing at Tony over the comms, shaking you head, you continued your way into the building to extract information. Once you were done, you stepped out and made your way over to the jet where you were met with an impatient looking Tony.

“What?”

“You haven’t answered my question. Tomorrow, you and me, out on the town? It’s my birthday in case you forgot.” his big brown eyes implored you for an answer, standing in your way until you did. Sometimes you hated how persistent he could be, and more than that the fact that you fell for those gorgeous eyes every single time.

“Well?”

“Ugh. Fine! I’ll go. But you’re paying. And you will drop me home in case I get shitfaced.” you sighed, pushing him away and towards the bathroom to change.

Now you were kind of dreading tomorrow as much as you were looking forward to celebrating with your friend.

.

“How about fishnet stockings over there? She’s got a rack that would get you googly-eyed.” you tried to avoid the disdain in your voice as you nodded at the blonde who sat at the far end of the bar.

Tony was sucking on a wedge of lemon post the shots you two had downed before he turned his gaze in the direction you were pointing at. He hummed in appreciation but did nothing about it, simply went on ordering you some more drinks.

“What?” you frowned, secretly hoping he wouldn’t approach the woman because it would break your heart but Tony wasn’t one to shy away from a challenge. Especially when it came to women. He just loved showing off how much he ‘didn’t have to try’.

Tony shrugged, not answering you right away, instead he pushed a drink towards you, his knee nudging yours now that he had slid closer. The familiar smell of his cologne mixed with motor oil and coffee filled your nostrils, making you wish just for once you could snuggle closer to him and just revel in his scent. Pushing your luck a little, you laid your arm across his shoulder and angled your body towards him, to your surprise he pulled you closer and kissed your temple, making your little heart flutter hopelessly.

“Careful Stark, the ladies are gonna think we’re together and you might end up having an off night.” you teased.

“Tony Stark never has an off night, sweetheart. Never.” his breath fanned your cheek as he spoke, raising an eyebrow up at you just to make sure you understood his point. A tingle went down your spine as his fingers caressed the back of your neck, lightly grazing your skin.

This wasn’t good. No. Not since your feelings were on overdrive.

“Then why aren’t you going over to Fishnets? Come on, I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to warm your bed.”

Tony made a face at your words, one that had you frowning because it was unusual. He never answered though.

“What about you, Y/L/N? No guy worthy enough for your attention here? I thought one of those suited up, boring businessmen would be up your alley. What do you think?”

You looked over to where Tony was pointing, the guys were certainly handsome and by the looks of it seemed quite well to do. Maybe you could go up to them, strike up a conversation and eventually go home with one, in hopes of forgetting about your crush. Yeah, you certainly needed to get laid, it had been a while.

“Alright then. I will if you will.” you finished your drink and slammed it a little hard on the table than you normally would.

“What?” Tony frowned.

“You and Fishnets. Me and Mr. Suity-man over there. We’ll see which one of us hits the jackpot.” you winked, steadying yourself before giving Tony a little shove. It was a distraction you needed. Maybe watching Tony work his charm on another woman would work in helping you get over him finally.

.

Tony felt his blood boil at the sight of the fancy-ass suited guy wrap an arm around your waist while you giggled. The woman next to him was practically throwing herself at him, not the least bit interesting when it came to conversations and was pretty much laughing at everything he said, even if it wasn’t funny. Normally he would have her back at the penthouse already, be done with before heading down to his lab and have her sent off before he had his first cup of coffee in the morning. But it was different, he had no intentions of sleeping with that woman. Or any other woman that wasn’t Y/N.

These days, he only had eyes for her. Y/N made him feel things he didn’t think he was capable of feeling. Being with her made him feel like he was worth something, like he was finally being seen for who he really was. Her laugh made his heavy heart a little lighter, her presence felt like warm sunshine on a cold day.

And now he felt like he was blowing his chance with you by agreeing to this stupid bet. Catching her eye, he raised his eyebrows to ask how it was going, chuckling to himself when she made a disgusted face. That sent relief flooding through his system for some reason, at least she wasn’t going home with that stupid, tall guy.

A few moments later you both caught up at the bar for more drinks, letting out collective defeated sighs and shaking your heads.

“This pub is dull. I’m going home alone, aren’t I?” you huffed, feeling dejected and placing your head against your hand as you looked at the woman Tony was supposed to talk to, she had a sour expression on her face before she stormed off to where your potential date was. Maybe they would hit it off, you thought with a laugh.

“You and I both, Y/L/N. So? What was wrong with him?” Tony mirrored your position, eyes curious.

“Ugh. The guy wouldn’t stop yapping about football, he hates all animals and he thinks you’re just a big show-off.” You rolled your eyes, downing a glass of water in between to keep yourself hydrated.

“I mean, he’s not completely wrong,Y/N.” Tony shrugged. It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s called him that, hell, he had been called worse.

“Shut up. He couldn’t be more wrong.”

Something about your tone amused him though, the way you got so defensive about him kinda made him feel proud. And intrigued him to know more.

“I mean he had the balls to say you are a pompous, arrogant jerk who does things for nobody but yourself.” You scoffed.

“It’s not like he’s ever spent months in some cave in Afghanistan and escaped, turned his whole business around and bloody well succeeded, invented a frickin 'element, saved I don’t know thousands of lives? Formed the avengers? Been the most generous man I’ve ever come across and—”

Your sentence was cut short as Tony’s lips cut you off abruptly. Was it really happening? Utterly shocked at first, you didn’t respond for a few seconds which made him stop.

“Is that why you rejected him?” He murmured, now cupping your face tenderly with his hands.

“That and the fact that he wasn’t you.” You answered honestly, your heart thudding beyond control at this point as blood rushed to your ears and cheeks, turning them warm.

“You’re the only one I want too, Y/N. Always have.”

His confession turned your insides into mush, a grin forming on your face that you couldn’t control. It was just a little hard to believe that the man you wanted also wanted you in return. The kind of stuff only dreams and romantic novels are made of.

“You’re coming with me.”

Grabbing your hand Tony guided you out of the pub. And of all the people you could go home with, you were finally going with the one person you wanted the most.

.

There was a flurry of activity once you were back at Tony’s penthouse. Clothes strewn about, giggles echoing in the empty hallway along with fervent kisses.

Once you were down to your underwear, Tony stepped back to admire your body, his gaze darkening as he saw the lacy, red lingerie you wore. It was a happy coincidence but for him, it was enough to want you in every way.

“Is this my birthday present?” He pulled you flush against his chest, turning you around so your ass grazed against his growing erection. Lips pressed against your warm skin, his hands slid lower and lower until he cupped your clothed sex to find it damp with desire.

“Maybe this is? Hmm?” His breath was hot against your ear, fingers teasing your folds over your panties before sliding them aside to feel you.

Gently tugging on his hair, you turned around in his arms and pushed him on his back until he flopped on the bed, smirking up at you as you straddled his legs.

“Eager much?”

“Very much.”

Placing a hand on his chest, you lowered yourself on top and kissed him, smiling into it when it responded with equal if not more enthusiasm. Your tongue slipped past his mouth, earning a needy grunt from the man as you moved your hips deliberately over his, teasing his clothed cock as it eagerly twitched underneath you.

“How come it took you so long to kiss me, Stark?” your tone was light but accusatory as you nipped at his ear. The way he was kissing you first made you realize you weren’t the only one longing for this to happen.

“How come it took you so long to act upon your feelings, Y/L/N?” he inquired instead, holding your hips and sitting up with you, caressing your sides gently with a faint smile playing on his lips.

You knew he’d ask you this question, you took a deep breath and decided on going with honesty, he deserved to know the truth if this was ever going to work out. Whatever ‘this’ was.

“I didn’t know if you felt the same way, Tony. I was afraid of losing you. You’re a royal pain in my ass but you’re my friend, Anthony Stark. So whatever we’re doing here, or about to do, I don’t want it to affect our friendship, okay? I’m completely fine with the whole friends with benefits situation–”

Yet again, your little ramble was cut off by Tony’s soft lips, kissing your insecurities away delicately, allowing your heart to flutter a little.

“That’s the thing, Y/N. I don’t want to be your friend anymore–, you felt like your stomach dropped, for a second you couldn’t believe what was going on before he continued, “I want to be your boyfriend, the best and only one you’ll have. You’re my ray of sunshine and I want you all to myself. That is if you’ll have me.” he blinked up at you in all sincerity, fingers fidgeting against your skin nervously as he waited.

His confession sent a thousand butterflies fluttering in your belly.

“You need to stop cutting me off like that, Stark.” you murmured with a smile as you tugged on his hair, inching your face closer to him.

“Or what?”

You hummed, pushing him back down once more and letting your hair drape around his face as you slid a hand down his torso, down past his boxers to find his length eager for you. Your touch elicited a needy moan from the man as your fingers gripped him, giving him slow, lazy strokes.

“You’re bossy, I like it.” his mouth fell open at your ministrations, his breath coming in shallow.

You didn’t take long to undress then, kissing along his chest which was littered with scars the closer look you had. Tony hadn’t felt so vulnerable and yet safe at the same time, then again he’d never been with you.

You lined yourself up against him, watching him as you sank down on his cock, letting out a content sigh as he stretched you out completely. Slow at first, you began rolling your hips against him, feeling every last inch of him as you continued to kiss, swallowing his grunts.

“You feel so good, Y/N.” Tony sighed, digging his fingers into your hips, thrusting up into you for more.

“So do you, Tony. Fuck me, please.” your needy whisper was all he needed to flip you over so you were under him, still connected. Once he had your arms pinned above your head, he didn’t stop, didn’t stop until you were a writhing mess, crying out his name as he impaled you with his cock. His brutal pace had you clenching around him in desperation, wanting release as you clung to him.

“Come for me, Y/N. Let me hear you.”

Tony’s words undid you, making your pussy spasm around his length as you gushed, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. You were in a haze as his end approached, pulling out in time to come all over your thighs, spurts of his cum painting your skin white as he groaned in pleasure.

“I think that was the best sex I’ve ever had.” he panted, helping you clean up before cuddling you close, frowning when all you did was hum.

“I’ve had better.” you teased, his reactions always made the joke worth it. He tickled you until you begged for mercy, out of breath as you laughed with the man, feeling a sense of contentment being with him like this. His relaxed features and demeanor suggested he felt the same.

“Oh! I completely forgot!”

“What?”

“Happy birthday, Tony.”

💛Happy Birthday to our favourite ray of sunshine, Anthony Edward Stark💛

[enchantedlov3r]

💓pup and john b first meeting/first date💓

~oneshot~

pup reader was very outgoing and that's what drove john b towards her in the first place.

she was very cute in her little yellow floral sundress walking across the street to enter the gas station that john b was getting gas for the twinkie.

your skin was glistening in the sun probably from the outer banks heat. your hair done up nice and you had on these cute yellow converse. you walked in the store and john b stared you down the whole time.

watching you smile at the cashier, watching your fingers as they traced the shelves on the aisles looking for whatever you desired.

jj caught glance of you and smirked at john b when he saw his best friend making googly eyes your way.

"how about you stop being a creep and go talk to her." he suggests with a sly smirk.

" 'cause she's totally outta my league man. Do you see her? she looks so gorgeous, I couldn't possibly bag that." he says with a sigh.

jj rolls his eyes and puts the gas pump inside the fuel filler inlet and jogs towards you inside the gas station.

"hey pretty lady! my uh, buddy over there john b? he thinks your stunning and would love to talk to you and hopefully take you out? How do you feel about that ma'am?" jj says before turning back to john b who is waiting outside and winks at him.

'uhm-ha- sure, why not!" you say with a giddy smile on your face. You pay for your belongings and walk out with jj.

"john b! the girl of your dreams." he says with jazz hands as he reveals your figure from behind him.

"Uh hi." you squeak out nervously. you had to admit, he was very very handsome. You noticed him when you first walked into the gas station.

he had caught your big doe eyes and you immediately fell in love. what scared you was having to choose between going up to him or leaving and missing your shot at bagging a really hot guy.

"Hey. I was checking you out from afar and I gotta say, your like really cute and I was wondering if I could get your number, maybe take you out sometime tomorrow night?" He says with a smile on his face.

you fiddle with your thumbs and make eye contact with him. "Yea sure! My number is..."

and from that moment on you guys went on your first date together. A late night drive in the neighborhood with a conversation on getting to know each other better before having a nice, fancy dinner at the chateau.

john b was a little insecure and scared you would dislike it but when he saw your eyes light up at the candle lit house with fairy lights and how excited you got when the roses and lights led all the way to the dock, he knew you were a keeper.

"I LOVE IT JOMBEE!" You say cutely running around in circles before running into john b's arms and hugging him giving multiple wet kisses to his face.

he chuckles as he holds you feeling your soft lips and warm tongue on his face.

"glad you love it pup. Now come on, let's eat." He says grabbing your hand and guiding you to the dock where the candle lit dinner was.

the sun was setting creating this beautiful hue of pinks and purples in the sky.

"hey pup?" john b asks looking lovingly into your eyes. you smile at him after taking a sip of your drink and respond, "yes jombee?!"

"I think I love you, like i'm truly in love with you." he says a pink color shading his cheeks and nose.

"well I think I love you too jombee. actually, I know for a fact i'm in love with you too!" you say with the biggest and goofiest smile on your face.

he smiles back and he pulls you in to kiss him. he grabs your hips and pulls you on top of him letting you straddle his lap.

the kiss deepens and becomes more passionate and more heated than before.

you whimper in john b's mouth and he bites your lip swallowing every sound you could give.

all he knew was that he was glad he met you cause you sure were the best thing that ever happened to him and he'll always remember that.

Taglist: (?)

[jgroffdaily]

The New Yorker Interview

Jonathan Groff Rolls Merrily Back

The actor reflects on his journey in reverse: from his latest Tony nomination to his arrival in New York, waiting tables and dreaming of Broadway.

By Michael Schulman, Photograph by Thea Traff

June 2, 2024

Excerpts:

One of the problems with “Merrily” is its protagonist, Franklin Shepard, whom we first meet as a slick, philandering forty-year-old Hollywood producer. It takes two acts to arrive at the charismatic musician he once was, with a lot of mistakes in between. Putting effect before cause gives each scene a painful irony—but how do you get an audience to care about a guy who’s off-putting for so long? “Merrily” is back on Broadway, in a production directed by Maria Friedman, and it’s finally a hit. One big reason is its Frank, played by Jonathan Groff, whose natural warmth shines through even in the character’s older, sleazier incarnation. When this revival opened Off Broadway, in 2022, The New Yorker’s Helen Shaw wrote, “Groff’s silky tenor and angelic face elevate a part that can sometimes be contemptible—for the first time, I could see Frank as both the dreamer who believes in greatness and the glib charmer who believes every lie he tells.”

Groff, thirty-nine, is now nominated for a Tony Award, alongside Friedman and his co-stars Daniel Radcliffe and Lindsay Mendez. He was previously nominated in 2016, for “Hamilton,” in the scene-stealing part of King George III, and in 2007, for the indie-rock musical “Spring Awakening,” as the rebellious schoolboy Melchior Gabor—his breakout role, opposite Lea Michele. Groff had come to New York three years earlier, as a stagestruck, closeted nineteen-year-old from Lancaster, Pennsylvania, where he grew up among Mennonites and was obsessed with the original cast recording of “Annie Get Your Gun.” “Merrily,” with its themes of aging, idealism, and the vicissitudes of show business, has had Groff thinking about his own path toward stardom. “Doing this show on Broadway at this time, moving to New York twenty years ago, I’ve now lived the time frame of the show,” he told me recently.

We were talking at a bakery north of Washington Square Park. Groff had glided in on a bicycle. As we spoke, he frequently welled up with tears—he’s a crier—but regained his composure by focussing on a pair of googly eyes affixed to the wall behind me. For our conversation, which has been edited and condensed, I had an experiment in mind.

Let’s start with the extremely recent past. Three days ago, you went to the Met Gala. How was your night?

The big headline for me was Lea Michele was pregnant, and I sat next to her at the table, holding her giant train thing while she peed. She took it off, and I was holding that and her purse. I saw Zac Posen, who was at our table, help Kim Kardashian up the little tiny stairs, and I said to him, “Wow, that was such a sweet moment of the gay helping the diva.” I was relating to him, like with me and Lea. It’s a zoo of famous people. I was going to go to the after-parties, but my body was just, like, “No.” I hit a wall from the shows and the epicness of the week, with the Tony nominations. So I was home by eleven-forty-five, and in bed by midnight.

The Broadway production of “Merrily” opened last fall. You told Jimmy Fallon that Meryl Streep came to your dressing room, where you have a bar named BARbra, and she took a video of you and sent it to Barbra Streisand. Who else has been there?

The first thing that comes to me is sitting in BARbra in October or November, drinking whiskey with Sutton Foster. I came to New York as a teen-ager and saw her six times in “Thoroughly Modern Millie”—now she’s in BARbra, dropping in for, like, an hour and a half after the show, and it’s so full circle. Who else? Patti LuPone was there—another big one for me. Phoebe Waller-Bridge and Martin McDonagh. Glenn Close sent back a bottle of champagne to be chilled in BARbra, which we drank together.

This show, like every Sondheim show, is very dense. Over the course of three hundred-plus performances, are there certain moments that have suddenly hit you a different way, or that you realize have a double meaning?

Double, triple, quadruple, infinity. I’m still having revelations, which really makes me believe that it’s a true work of art. Maria [Friedman] talks about how, with Sondheim’s writing, he “leaves space,” which is why it’s always new. He always needed to work with a collaborator, and she talked about the actor being an essential collaborator. She said the lyric he wrote in “Sunday in the Park with George”—“Anything you do, / let it come from you, / then it will be new”—is Sondheim’s directive to the actor.

The Tuesday after the Tony nominations, I got to the theatre, screamed with Lindsay [Mendez], screamed with Dan [Radcliffe]. [He chokes up.] Then I was singing “Growing Up”—“So old friends, don’t you see we can have it all?”—which has meant so many different things to me in the run of the show. At yesterday’s matinée, Dan and I were sitting on the roof singing “Our Time”: “Up to us, pal, to show ’em.” We’ve done it a million times. We look at each other, and Dan just fucking loses it crying. He had to look away from me. We talked about it afterward, like, “What the fuck was that?” I don’t know. Something just happened.

When you started the show, in 2022, at New York Theatre Workshop, were there kinks in your performance that you’ve since figured out?

I remember feeling shocked at being disliked for so long in the first half of the first act. It was very clear from the energy of the audience that they loved Mary in the opening scene—immediately, they’re on her side. I’m out here as a gay guy, playing this straight, two-timing Hollywood producer who’s cheating on his wife. I’m already having to feel confident in a way that I don’t in my everyday life, this sort of swagger. And the audience hates me. I remember feeling scared and self-conscious. Maria, in that preview process, really helped with that, because she talked about the value of when it’s real, and you’re not playing ugly just to be ugly. The one line that I really struggled with was “I’m just acting like it all matters so people can’t see how much I hate my life and how much I wish the whole goddam thing was over.” That is a really confronting thing to say.

People might say that this is one of the fundamental flaws of “Merrily We Roll Along”—that you’re confronted with this cynical, smarmy Frank in the first act, and you don’t really understand him until the show’s over. I can imagine going into this not knowing if that’s a solvable problem, because it hadn’t been for decades.

Well, Maria wanted us to find the truth. She really believed that these characters weren’t archetypes, that there’s humanity in the writing from beginning to end. I found it after that first week or two of previews, not being so afraid. The line that made me want to do the show was “I’ve made only one mistake in my life, but I’ve made it over and over and over. That was saying yes when I meant no.” I’ve done that a lot in my life, and there was something that felt like the closeted version of myself. George Furth and Stephen Sondheim—I can only imagine being gay at the time that they were gay. Even though Frank is straight, there’s so much repression that feels very familiar to me.

Except that you felt it at the beginning of your life and not the middle, as Frank does.

Yes and no. I still feel it. I’m still trying every day not to go back. I’m obviously out of the closet, so that’s a huge relief, but I’m always going to be reckoning with the Republican upbringing that I had. I’m always negotiating whatever homophobia I’ve got. It’s all in there, still. What we see as ugliness in the top of the show, to stand and say, “I want to fucking kill myself, I hate my life,” and not overdramatize it but try to find it in the most pure, truthful place—it’s still, every night, a meditation to go there.

Let’s wind back. In 2021, you played Agent Smith in “The Matrix Resurrections.” Any good stories about Keanu Reeves?

Getting to play Agent Smith really unlocked rage inside of me that I didn’t know was there. That’s helped me so much with “Merrily,” particularly in the first act. Learning the kung fu was, like, months of fight training. They called me the Savage, because I was so into it. We were shooting a big fight sequence with Keanu, and, after the first few takes, I remember Lana [Wachowski] at the monitor, like, “Jonathan, come over here. Who is that?” I was, like, “I don’t know.” And she was, like, “And what is that?” I said, “Gay rage?”

I’d never shot a gun before. I shot Keanu and thought I had peed my pants, because I had this hot feeling. You know when you pee yourself and it’s warm? It lasted about ten minutes and then it went away. I sat next to Keanu and said, “Keanu, I just had extreme heat from my groin for, like, ten minutes.” And he was, like, “You opened up your root chakra.”

You turned thirty that year [Hamilton]? How was that?

I remember it vividly. We were at the Public Theatre. There was a fire in the East Village, and the show was cancelled that night. I got a cupcake at the deli around the corner from my apartment, on Sixteenth Street, and ate it by myself. I can be a bit of a loner, so that was a happy birthday for me.

(On Looking being cancelled)

But, in 2015, Michael Lombardo was our executive at HBO, and I was crying into my salad at some restaurant in West Hollywood, trying to convince him to keep the show going, right before getting on the plane to come do “Hamilton” Off Broadway.

I loved Raúl Castillo, who played your love interest Richie on the show. I interviewed him around then, and he told me that, since he’s straight, you all had to teach him some of the mechanics of what gay people do.

Oh, yeah! God, I love him so much. I officiated his wedding in July.

Let’s go back to 2013, when “Frozen” came out. You voiced the iceman Kristoff and the reindeer Sven. How did that film change your life?

It’s funny—I remember recording some of “Frozen” in San Francisco. I would be teaching Raúl, like, how to lick my asshole while jerking me off—not teaching him, but sharing the ins and outs of gay intimacy—and then going into the recording studio on a Saturday and being Kristoff and Sven in a Disney movie.

When they showed me “Let It Go” for the first time, I was, like, Oh, my God, this will help millions of people come out of the closet. This is the gayest thing I’ve seen in my life! That was the thing about “Frozen”: I don’t think anyone who worked on it thought it was going to be a juggernaut. It’s so weird to think of this now, but when it came out it felt quite alternative, because there was no villain, really, and the love was between two women. Now there are, like, tissues with Elsa on it.

Now we’re moving backward to “Spring Awakening.” By the time it moved to Broadway, in 2006, you were the twenty-one-year-old lead of the coolest musical in town. What was your actual life like?

I was so not cool. The show was cool, and the music was cool. I had people dropping me off joints at the theatre. And I remember fully understanding the stark difference between who I was playing onstage and who I was in real life, which was an extreme theatre nerd who wanted to be in the ensemble of “Thoroughly Modern Millie” and never would have imagined playing Melchior. It’s his gravitas. And trying to tap into that side of myself, which was a side I’d never experienced before.

Tell me about your audition.

I went to the open call and knew who Michael Mayer was, because he had directed “Thoroughly Modern Millie.” But it was “Spring Awakening” and I was, like, There’s a beating scene? This is so intense! They called me in for Melchior, then had me sing “Hey Jude” in a falsetto, and Michael was, like, “That was your falsetto?” And I laughed at him sort of making fun of me. Tom Hulce, who was our producer, told me years later that he moved my head shot from the “No” pile into the “Yes” pile because I had laughed at Michael in the audition, and he thought, This kid has the ability to let Michael roll off his back. We should bring him back in the next month or two.

It was, like, ten people up for Melchior. They brought me in first, because they thought they would just see me and cut me. But I had worked so hard on the audition material. I remember calling my dad the night before the final callback and saying to him, “I know I can’t be this character all the way yet, but I—”[He tears up again.] I really got to get my shit together! Why does this keep happening to me?

Because we’ve gone on an emotional journey.

I guess so, in reverse! Fuck me. [Pauses.] I knew that I had it inside, if they would just give me the chance. That’s all I was trying to say, but I guess I can’t stop crying while I’m saying it.

In 2005, you made your Broadway début, as an understudy in “In My Life.” Now, this was the weirdest musical I’ve ever seen. As I recall, there were dancing skeletons in a song about how everyone has a skeleton in their closet, a giant lemon that came from the sky at the end, and a girl on a scooter who turns out to be a ghost. And it was written by the guy who wrote “You Light Up My Life,” who then came to a dark end.

And his son!

Yes, his son killed his girlfriend. What the hell was going on with that show? Did you ever go on?

I went on for the ensemble members. I was so excited! I was in my first Broadway show, at the Music Box Theatre, walking in where it says “Stage Door.” And you couldn’t give away tickets to see the show. People were coming to laugh at the show from the audience.

Like “Springtime for Hitler”?

Exactly. And the cast had to do the show, even though people were laughing at them, which is devastating for the actors. But we formed a little family. It’s the plight of the actor. You’re just out there, like Sally Bowles in “Cabaret.” I was twenty years old, so I was lit.

Had you been waiting tables?

Yeah. The whole year before that, I was at the Chelsea Grill, in Hell’s Kitchen. The day I got to New York—October 21, 2004—I moved to Fifty-first Street and Ninth Avenue, before it was super gay, and I walked down Ninth and got a job waiting tables. A week later, I waited on Tom Viola, who runs the charity Broadway Cares, and became a bucket collector. I’d watch the second act of shows and then collect the money at the end. I went to hundreds of auditions, trying to get my Equity card. That, to me, was “Opening Doors,” from “Merrily”—that moment of sheer will and ambition and ignorance.

We’ve now reached our finale, which is 2004. Can you tell me about the decision to move to New York?

My mom was a gym teacher and my dad is a horse trainer, and they didn’t really understand anything about the performing world. But my dad grew up on a dairy farm, and he was supposed to take over and become a Mennonite preacher, which is what my grandfather was. My dad didn’t like cows—he liked horse racing, so he sort of rebelled and did his own thing. My mom always says that nurse, secretary, or teacher were the options for women in a small town at that time, but her passion was sports, so she ended up being a coach.

So they understood the power of fanning the flame of passion. When I was a kid and into acting, they drove me to play practice. They drove me to community theatre. My senior year of high school, my mom drove me to New York to audition for this bus-and-truck tour of “The Sound of Music.” I got that tour, and deferred my admission to Carnegie Mellon. I made ten thousand dollars after a year on the road, and I learned so much from getting to act every day. I wanted to take my ten thousand and move to New York, and my parents were super supportive: “If you feel like you need to go to college, you can always go to college. But take a gamble and move to the city.” I’d worked at this theatre in Lancaster called the Fulton Opera House, where I’d met this girl who wanted to move to New York, so she became my roommate.

To me, “Merrily We Roll Along” is about how difficult it is to stay in touch with the person you were as adulthood knocks you sideways and forward. When you think about nineteen-year-old Jonathan coming to New York, do you feel like you’re the same person? What’s changed?

[He bursts into tears.] I can’t tell why I cry! When we were about to start rehearsal for “Merrily,” I would listen to “Our Time,” and I couldn’t sing it without crying. And, when I think about that version of myself—I think it’s because that person who brings you here does diminish. Maybe it’s the grief for that person. The whole reason that I’m here now is because of that person, but that person no longer exists.

But that person is still in there, somewhere. That voice is so quiet now, but it’s still driving my choices. You have to make choices. You get older, that pure inspiration dies, but it doesn’t have to go all the way away. I think that’s the whole point of the show, why it goes backward. Maria says that Sondheim put all of his regret into it, so that we could have less regret for ourselves. And perhaps the reason it ends with these people, with these versions of ourselves that we remember when we see it, is that it’s an invitation to remember and honor that person.

Why does that make me cry? Is it grief? Is it joy? I don’t know, but I’m so grateful for that purity and that optimism. The first month that I was here, feeling so lost and confused, I pulled the Bible that my Mennonite grandmother gave me off the bookshelf. She gave me that Bible before I left town. I was alone in the apartment thinking, What the fuck am I doing in New York? Or not even “what the fuck”—I didn’t swear until “Spring Awakening,” and when I would sing “Totally Fucked” I would get beet red. And I remember putting the Bible down and thinking, This is not the answer. This is not making me feel good. And then running to Central Park and standing in front of the Bethesda Fountain. I was nineteen, and I was, like, This feels better—but, like, What? Who am I? What am I doing here? I know I want to act, but I’m so scared. And gay. But it was something—some voice, some passion, some inspiration. Some something brought me here.

[luveline]

valentines party!! ❤️‍🔥 can we get “what? i’m not allowed to look at you” with bf steve ? his gf a lil shy 🙈

luveline's valentine's mini party ♥︎

thank you for your request!! shy!fem!reader

You hadn't realised how much of having a boyfriend was eating food together in his car. You won't complain because it's quickly become one of your favourite things to do. You haunt Steve's passenger and he buys you dinner, no matter how often you try to take the bill. 

"Right, 'cause that's happening," he says. 

The hot paper bag burns your legs as Steve pulls into a parking lot. He parks, cranks down the windows, pushes his seat back, and turns up the radio. You search through the bag for his burger. 

"I should be allowed to pay, baby," you say softly, hoping your tone will change his mind. "It's not fair that you always pay... You're a feminist." 

He grabs his coke from the cup holder, chuckling to himself between sips. "I'm a feminist, but I also believe in spoiling my girl. I mean, look at you. Do you know how pretty you look right now, just to get burgers? I think I can manage the bill." 

You drop a wad of napkins into his lap before offering his burger and fries. He takes them, and he leans across the console to kiss you quick. It's a nice kiss, gentle and easy. 

"You can pay next time." 

You've heard that one before. Still, you say, "Thank you," and take out your own food. 

You're so glad Steve likes you. That he wants you. Moments like this, watching each other eat, listening to the radio and singing through mouthfuls of lettuce and tomato, letting him dip his fries in your milkshake, they mean the world to you. You hadn't known a guy like Steve existed before you met him. He's accepting. He thinks you're beautiful with lettuce on your chin. He wants to kiss your fingers fry grease and all, and it makes you feel like the prettiest girl on Earth. 

Somehow he manages to get your hand in his, though you're both still eating and one-handed is hard work. He rubs the back of your hand with his thumb, dropping his burger in his lap. 

"What?" he asks.

"What?" you ask back, averting your eyes. 

"Why were you looking at me like that?"

"What, I'm not allowed to look at you?" you ask, trying to pull your hand out of his. He gets a grip like super glue on you. 

You can hear his smile. "Don't get shy on me now, I want answers!" 

"I'm always shy on you," you say, pleading, "please don't, Stevie."

"You were giving me the googly eyes. I know that. You want another kiss, is that it? I might taste like sesame seeds, but I'll give you the kiss of your life if you look at me like that again." 

It's tempting but off putting at the same time. Of course you want the kiss of your life, but at the same time… 

"I don't think I'd survive it," you mumble. 

Steve bursts into laughter. It's completely golden. He laughs all the way up your arm, kissing from your knuckles to your t-shirt sleeve until you're squirming and pulling your shoulder to your cheek to hide from his ticklish kissing. 

"Your stubble's itching me," you say. 

"Sorry," he says sweetly. 

If there's one thing you know about your boy — he is not sorry.