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#its so well done and so many people knock it
youcancallmeelle · 1 month
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Are we on the same side?
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Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI!!!)
Word count: 8K
Pairing: Separated husband!Joel Miller x wife!reader
Summary: Joel and you are trialling temporary separation due to repeated arguments with one another after nearly twenty years of marriage.
He returns to the marital home to do you a favour, flirting ensues and the sexual tension gets out of hand because of course it does.
You may need some clarification on what you are…
AO3
You put up the hearts, and I'll put up both my aces Not very far apart Still on different pages
Before having kids, you used to take every moment of your life for granted. 
You were just a kid yourself back then, when you had two babies with a boy who shared your class and you were so in love you couldn’t fathom a life without him. For years you were Mama, the person who fed them and changed them, bathed them and rocked them to sleep. You worked night shifts while the love of your life worked in the day, all so food could be put on the table and an apartment could be kept to keep you all warm and safe. It wasn’t until a few years ago when your kids gained their own independence that you slowly started to regain your own life back, now you were nearly forty and working a job that gave you more freedom even if the stress levels have gotten to you more than once and your marriage… well that’s a separate issue on its own. 
You’d spent the morning doing things you wanted to, thanking whoever that your kids were teenagers who could do their own breakfast and helped with chores without coaxing. You’ve been to pilates and the salon and had your infills done, your nails a glossy shade of pillar box red in an almond shape and your toes the same colour. You’d even managed to grab a Starbucks and sipped it languidly as you people watched from the safety of your car, enjoying your chosen playlist on Spotify without the bluetooth getting hijacked. The icing on the cake though? The fact you got to shower at home without someone barging in to ask for foundation or to borrow your strapless bra or your new Adidas Superstars. 
It’s mid way through Saturday afternoon that your relaxation comes skidding to a halt in the form of your jaded lover knocking heavily against the pane of glass on your front door, the irritating noise makes you scowl and you drag your feet to answer it. 
You crack it open, familiar brown eyes stare at you and yours narrow back. 
“What are you doing here?” You ask flatly, the male on the other side picks up on your terse mood and his shoulders rise defensively. If it wasn’t for the little disagreement you’d had a few days prior on the phone over something as mundane as renewing car insurance, you’d have probably been more excited to see him but the way he can sometimes undermine you really grates on your nerves, you hate that he gets so swept up in work that he comes home and talks to you like he’s your foreman. 
The minute he’d started questioning your choice like a fucking know it all, you’d merely hung up in irritation, refusing to answer when he’d called you back twice to apparently try and patch it over. You’d read the I’m sorry and I love you more than you’ll ever know text he sent after over and over, trying to figure out how things had come to this. 
Nearly two decades together, married, with children and a house. You and Joel Miller have been torn apart by too many petty arguments that end with you sobbing and him walking away, you’d had to call it and come up with a possible solution with the marriage counsellor before it was too late. 
He huffs and lifts his hand, showing you the toolbox you’ve seen many times with its contents strewn about somewhere in your house. 
“A little birdie told me that you’re in need of a repair.” Joel’s lip twists at the side when your mood seems to perk just a fraction, there’s multiple things that need a little TLC right now but he can certainly worm his way back into your good books with a good old fashioned repair. You can only assume the little birdie was Sarah or Ellie. 
You open the door fully and step backwards so all six foot something of him can meander through your front door, he wipes his feet on the welcome mat and toes his sneakers off, nudging them into the neat space where a tattered pair of Vans have been kicked off hard enough to scuff the wall and a pair of spotless ankle boots have been nicely placed beside your shoes. 
“Where’s the babies?” He frowns, looking around and noticing the lack of noise. 
You smile as you shut the door behind him as he refers to the girls as his babies, despite Sarah being eighteen and Ellie just turned fourteen. 
With them both being girls, he’s soft anyway but Sarah is his first born who made him a father and Ellie’s still his tiny baby who he’s soaked up every second of when she was a newborn because you both knew you weren’t having any more children.
“At the movies together watching Twisters, Garret backed out on Sarah so Ellie went instead.” You inform him, sneaking an appreciative glance from the corner of your eye. 
Joel makes a noise at the mention of Sarah’s boyfriend, never having liked him for whatever reason, you think it’s because they’re eerily alike so therefore clash. 
“Little prick will be back hangin’ around here next week.” He grumbles, placing his toolbox on the bottom step.  
“She’s just going through the universal thing of falling for a country boy.” You tease. 
“Well as long as he don’t get her pregnant before graduation then we won’t have a problem.”
“She’s smarter than us.” You say. 
“I know.” Joel agrees, you sneak one more glance at the country boy who got you pregnant before graduation. 
He’s wearing slim fitting black sweatpants with a worn grey t-shirt with a faded motif on, the chain of his St Christopher barely noticeable beneath it and his thick rimmed glasses are perched on his nose. 
You miss the hungry look he shoots you when you turn away, chestnut coloured eyes drifting low to the denim shorts you wear that he’s sure you’ve had since you were in your twenties. They fit snug and are contoured perfectly to the shape of your ass, your cheeks barely peeking out. What really makes his dick hard is the fact you’re wearing one of his sweatshirts, an old Dallas Cowboys one that you’ve always been particularly fond of. 
“Nice flowers. Who got ya those?” He nods with a smirk towards the vase on the side table that’s filled with blooming peonies and baby’s breath. 
The beautiful arrangement of flowers had arrived the morning after your petty argument with Joel, a gift from the universe if you will when you needed something bright and blooming to drag you out of the despair you were frantically becoming encased in. 
“Oh.” You hum and feign ignorance, reaching out to gently touch the edge of a baby pink peony. “Just a friend.” You smile vaguely, Joel rolls his eyes. “Beautiful, aren’t they?”
“A guy sent them?” He presses, shifting his weight, your grin turns devious. 
“Mmm.” You coo, feeling thrilled when that lick of annoyance flickers across your husband’s face at your flippant tone. 
“Who?” He grins back.
“I’m not telling you.” 
“Come on, I just wanna talk to him, I wanna know why he thinks it’s okay to send my wife flowers.” 
“Ex wife.” You snort, Joel glares at you. 
“We’re separated, not divorced. Y’know what, we’re barely even separated.” He disagrees, you bite the inside of your cheek in amusement. 
“Apparently you’re here to fix my shelves and you’re doing a whole lot of yapping, very unprofessional of you.” You goad, stepping backwards when he begins to saunter towards you with a certain look in his eyes. 
“I’ll fix your shelves, I’ll fix anythin’ you want.” Joel mumbles, stalking you. 
“Big promises.” You taunt, lifting your chin defiantly. His hands grasp your waist, pulling you to him and you let him, leaning up to wrap your arms around his neck. 
You love this, the playful behaviour and flirting since you decided to live apart for a while. It feels new and exciting, a rush that you felt when you first got together as youngsters just before your world flipped and you were pregnant before your frontal lobe had developed. 
He smells delectable, you can’t stop yourself from nosing at his bearded jaw where his cologne is the strongest. Joel’s throat bobs, his fingers drift upwards under your borrowed sweatshirt to feel the bare skin between your shorts and bra. 
As his structured jaw slides across yours and his nose just barely brushes your own, you feel his breath hit your lips and you know he really wants to kiss you but is waiting for you to make the first move. 
You want to, you really do but you’re scared of falling into a false sense of security when you haven’t even scratched the surface of your underlying problems that the marriage counsellor suggested needed to be covered before you could get back on track. 
Joel enjoys the way your head fits against his collarbone, loves the sweet smell of your hair and skin. 
“Fix my shelf.” You huff into his skin as you retreat, he sighs deeply but picks up his toolbox and begins to follow you up the stairs with his eyes glued to your backside. 
It almost feels strange for Joel to be back in your shared bedroom after three weeks away, he hasn’t been back for any extra clothes or personal items. If he’s come over to see the kids, then he’s stayed downstairs or in the garden with them. 
Everything looks the same which is a strange observation given that really you’ve barely been apart for any time at all but it’s comforting to be back. 
The bed is made in its usual dress up of plain white sheets with useless throw pillows stacked neatly, there’s a pile of clean laundry resting on your vanity chair but also clothes tossed on the floor where you’ve been indecisive. 
Joel whistles when he sees the closet door open and the fallen shelf leaning against the door, there’s a scrape on the inside wall where it’s collided and taken the paint off. It looks like a fairly simple job, the wall plugs have probably come loose over time and needed replacing, it’s not as if IKEA is known for making indestructible furniture. 
“You want the step ladder?” You question as he surveys the situation, rubbing the wall with his fingertips to see if the scrape will alleviate some. 
“I think so.” He replies. “They in the garage?” 
“No, Ellie’s room, she was trying to hang some fairy lights earlier but only got halfway before she threw a fit about the command hooks.” You chuckle, wandering off to go retrieve them for him, already certain he’s made a note to finish the job for her before he leaves. 
When you get back, he’s got some tools ready, his drill in hand already. He steps onto the bottom rung of the step ladder, groaning as he stretches. 
You observe for a moment, knowing it irks him, he hates being watched on a job.
“Jesus, it’s fuckin’ dusty up here. You’re a terrible housewife, neglectin’ your duties.” Joel pokes, knowing you won’t take a blind bit of notice. 
“You wanna know why we really separated? Because you neglected your duties as a husband to satisfy your wife.” You reply easily, Joel chuckles and looks down at you. 
“Oh spare me the dramatics, you’ve never been unsatisfied by me in your whole entire life.” He sings, infuriatingly he isn’t wrong. 
“I’m telling the kids you were being sexist to me.” You threaten, chewing on a sinister smile. “Ellie will beat you up.” 
“She won’t.” Joel grins, you mumble out a complaint. “She’s a daddy’s girl, maybe try your luck with Sarah, I’m sure she’d give me a lecture.” Not that you think he needs one, he’s the biggest supporter of you and his girls. 
“They’re both Daddy’s girls, the little traitors. Nine whole months carrying them and giving birth after what felt like days and days with no fucking pain relief and this is the thanks I get? Not to mention my nipples being sucked raw.” You grumble to yourself, kicking some laundry into a pile at the side of the wall, Joel makes you jump when he groans suddenly.
“Just sayin’ but your tits were amazin’ when you were breastfeedin’ - shit, they’re still fucking phenomenal.” He sighs dreamily, closing his eyes. “Fuck, you were so hot carryin’ my babies, I’d have kept you pregnant if I had my way.” 
You bite your cheeks to hide the satisfaction that your husband still wants you. 
“You can’t say stuff like that to me anymore.” 
“Why? We separated or somethin’?” Your husband frowns comically. “Show me your tits.” 
“No.” 
“Come on, just one.” He grins boyishly. “The right one is my favourite.” You stick your middle finger up at him.
“Asshole.” You sniff, walking back to lay on the end of your bed. 
You pick up your phone, mindlessly scrolling through Facebook posts made by the PTA at the girls school while Joel complains about wall fixings or something equally as dull. 
In the end, you get bored and toss it away, instead opting to enjoy the eye candy in the form of a senior (essentially) gentleman on a stepladder cussing about how IKEA can suck his balls. 
“Piece of fuckin’ shit!” He complains when the shelf slips again in your closet, he takes a calming breath and contains his frustration, you snicker at him. “How did this even break, sweetheart?” Joel huffs, changing out for a larger wall plug. 
“Dunno, it just did.” You answer vaguely, looking at your ceiling.
“Bullshit.” He quips. “Did you put too much shit on it?” 
“No.” You hum, shaking your head. 
“You’re a liar.” He states plainly, equally unamused. “What did you put on here that was so heavy it collapsed?” 
“Nothing, maybe it was just your shoddy workmanship to begin with.” You quip, not looking at him though you desperately want to because you can imagine the outrage on his face but you won’t be able to not laugh. 
“It wasn’t me that put it up.” He glares. 
“Sure, whatever you say.” You smile sweetly at him. It’s quiet for a minute, then Joel speaks again. 
“You put filled shoeboxes up here, didn’t you? After I told you nothin’ heavier than a few sweaters? ” He asks knowingly. 
Silence and then… 
“Yeah.” You nod, he sighs loudly and turns back to drill in a screw now that he seems happy with the stability. 
You watch him as he works, angling himself to see better and be able to use his drill at the correct angle. 
The muscles in his back move and his shoulders look unbelievably broad beneath his t-shirt, it hugs his biceps and rides up when he shifts to show a slither of his boxers and bare back. 
Your mouth almost waters and you press your thighs together but it obscures your view so you part them again to peek at him through the gap in your knees. 
It’s well known that your husband is an attractive man, he always has been. You’ve watched him grow from the gangly teenager with a backwards baseball cap practically glued to his head you were first besotted with to the almost middle aged and greying man that now works before you. 
Most nights when it’s dark, quiet and the house is still, you pleasure yourself beneath the duvet thinking of him, hips moving frantically against the whir of your vibrator. It can be any scenario of the long time you’ve been together, two decades holds enough memories to fill books upon books with pictures and anecdotes, some that you keep stored away just for you. 
Sometimes you dream about the three day honeymoon in Nashville you had when your parents forced you to get married before Sarah was born, back when you first lived in Arlington in a shitty apartment you could barely afford with you both working instead of attending college. Then there was that night just under four years later with sex so explosive that you’d had the fleeting thought you’d immediately gotten pregnant again, only to actually find out you’d been right two weeks later when you’d presented Joel with yet another positive pregnancy test before twenty five. 
You chew your lip, lashes fluttering and you’re sure he notices you ogling him in the mirror that puts your reflection in his eye line by the smirk you see. 
God, he pisses you off so much sometimes. He makes your cunt wet and your teeth grind all at once, you never knew that was possible. 
Rolling off the bed and onto your feet, you casually turn so that your back is to him on the ladder but you’re in the perfect position in the reflection of the mirror in front of him. He doesn’t notice at first over the sound of the drilling but when it stops and he goes to test the stability of the shelf, he freezes and the arm holding his drill drops limply to his side. 
He sees you begin to strip down in the mirror, shimmying your shorts down and then yanking off your oversized sweater. Joel freezes, gulping when you turn away to unclip your bra, the expanse of your back is smooth and if he thought your backside looked good in those shorts, the high cut panties you’re wearing hit on a whole other level. 
“What are you doin’?” He asks when your fingers hook into the sides of your panties, they flex within the material and you peer over your shoulder at him, big doe eyes the opposite of fucking innocence. 
“Just taking a shower, I’m filthy.” You titter, holding his piercing gaze through the mirror. 
“Funny, you’ve done nothin’ but sit on your pretty little ass and watch me inhale dust that’s been here for the last fifteen years.” 
“Well, you could always join me.” You shrug, finally slipping your underwear down your thighs, Joel’s mouth goes dry. “Only if you want to, of course.” You beam at him and then sashay away into the en suite, Joel’s resolve breaks very quickly (immediately actually) and he’s yanking off his glasses and tossing them onto the dresser and plucking his t-shirt over his head in an instant. 
Maybe the solution is to fuck it out and he’ll gladly go as many times as needed, you always did need to be fucked hard when your attitude started to test him. 
The shower has been switched on and you’re naked under the stream as he finishes yanking both his socks, sweatpants and boxers off. He admires you through the glass, kicking his clothes into a messy pile before climbing in there with you, the air tight and hot. 
His big hands enrobe you from behind, long dexterous fingers gripping at your waist and pawing at all the exposed skin it’s been weeks since he’s seen. 
You tilt your head back from the water, resting it against his shoulder and pushing back into him, holding onto his forearms and digging your nails into his flesh. 
“Look who couldn’t resist, you bad boy. Whatever will the therapist say?” You mock, pouting those pretty lips. 
“You’re a goddamn tease, you know that?” He growls, nipping at your jaw and earlobe, holding the weight of your breasts in his hands. 
“If you say so.” You breathe sexily, dragging him by the back of his neck to meet your lips in a hungry kiss. 
His cock is trapped between his soft stomach and your lower back, smearing a pearlescent gleam as he anchors himself to you.
You moan into his mouth when he teases your nipples into tight peaks, plucking them and roughly cupping your tits. 
“I want to lick your pretty little pussy until you cum on my face.” He admits into your mouth, barely letting you breathe past the fierce kisses. Your clit throbs at his confession and you grab hold of his hand, guiding it down your body to between your legs where he teases your lips.
Your back arches prettily into him, the free hand holding your breast now grips your throat, forcing you to tilt your head back. 
“Ah.” You whine when the roughened pads of his fingers stroke your clit. “Mmm, there.” You hum, pushing into his fingers. He entertains you, dipping his fingertips to your honey slick hole and back up again, dragging the gooey wetness to smother on your clit until it’s hardened and desperate to be sucked on like candy. 
“Bet you could cum like this.” He says gruffly, beard scratching at your shoulders and neck, wherever he greedily kisses your dewy wet skin. 
“Wanna cum on you, Joel.” You whine, reaching behind you to grasp his thickness. He ruts into your hand, smearing more stickiness that you want to lick away from his tip. 
You absorb him similarly to a plant and the sun, the bulk of his form plastered against your back so big and strong, skin sun kissed and warm. He’s safety to you, every single thing about him, everything familiar that you know. 
“Needy little slut.” He whispers, your core becomes aflame at the debauchery, you nod in confirmation. “Oh, you agree? You just need a cock to sit on and your shitty attitude will be right as rain?” 
“Only your cock.” You whine, flicking your thumb against the underside of him, tracing out a vein you’re very familiar with. 
“Yeah, baby. Only mine, I know, I know.” His sweet breath is hot against your cheek as he pants, fingers strumming your clit faster. “You wanna cum for me, baby? Show me how good you can be?” You hum and nod, knees almost buckling, this is the fastest you’ve approached orgasm since being separated. 
“Gonna cum, Joel.” You say huskily, hips bucking into his hand until it’s only been two seconds since your revelation and you’re cumming - wet and sticky - into the palm of his hand. His mouth is on yours, you’re moaning and moving erratically, Joel’s cock is dribbling a steady stream of pre cum into your hand where you’re gripping his shaft. 
“Sexy little thing.” Joel husks into your ear, biting the lob as you heave for air, slowly undulating your hips as you ride the last wave of your peak against his hand. “Good girl.” He praises, taking his hand away when you weakly push at his wrist. He lifts it in front of you, fingers webbed with your cum, runny and clear. You catch his hand, slipping his index and middle finger into your mouth, sucking them clean as he groans and ruts into the hand still around him, the cool palladium of his wedding ring bumps against your cupids bow as you suckle. 
You slip his fingers out of your mouth, letting them drag down your chin and back to your tits. “Fuck me.” You demand haughtily, eyeing him. 
“I’ll fuck you, baby.” He confirms, softer than you were expecting, he meets you for a kiss and you suck on the plumpness of his bottom lip before turning away. Joel slicks his hair back under the spray and then begins to trace out the curve of your waist and the fullness of your ass, you feel his hand bump you knuckle first where he fists himself to complete mast and then he runs the length of himself through your pussy, hissing at the wet heat that awaits him but he pauses, retracting back unsure. 
“You want me to wear a condom?” And you freeze, looking over your shoulder in distress. 
“Have you been with other people?” You frown, your heart suddenly sinking into your stomach, making your guts twist with nausea. Joel frowns down at you, blinking away the water clinging to his lashes. 
“Course not.” He answers, you relax. “…Have you?” Joel presses.
“Absolutely not.” You state firmly. “So get inside me.” You demand, turning away to place your hands on the tiles. You feel him press kisses to your shoulders as the tip of his cock brushes your ass again, you sigh and push back into him. “Please, baby.” You beg, feeling him smile into your skin. 
“I think you’re tryin’ to baby trap me.” Joel says playfully, pulling your hips against him so that your back arches just so. 
“You had a vasectomy after Ellie, idiot.” Your hips press insistently against him and you reach back to tug at his length, your fingers barely wrapping around the girth. “Now get your dick inside me, Joel.” You demand. 
“Yes, ma’am.” He leans down a fraction and slicks himself up, the entire length of him slipping against your pussy lips once more and nudging your clit. “Fuuuuck.” Joel groans when he does it again and the head of him catches on your hole, slipping inside just a fraction. 
“Oh my god.” You pant, your forehead dropping to rest against the cool tiled as he fills you completely. It’s a tight fit, after over three weeks of no sex with him your body is near to combustion.
You wonder if the lack of sex has attributed to the arguments, both working long hours at your respective jobs and not having the time for the normal intimacy you usually share. 
This is exactly what you’ve been wanting in the weeks you’ve been apart; a carnal desire to have your husband close. 
His grunt in your ear sets something off in you, the relief he feels directly felt by you. 
You whimper at the first thrust after he’s settled within your velvet lined canal, body pressed between him and the wall. 
It won’t ever be like this with anyone else, you think to yourself - the way Joel fits within you, around you and alongside you. 
“Like that.” You pant, pressing back. He grunts into your ear in such a manly way that you reach back to yank on his hair, he growls into your neck and fucks into you harder. 
He’s so strong it makes your head spin, this gorgeous man with a heart of gold that loved you when you were young, married you and gave you two babies, helped you create a comfortable life for your family. 
It’s overwhelming; that sensation of being full and enveloped within the heat of his radius. 
You’ve missed everything about him; his smell, his voice, the way he tastes. You’ve ached for the things you’ve harmlessly bickered about before, such as underwear outside of the hamper, smudges of toothpaste on the bathroom mirror after a deep clean, crumbs on the island. 
You don’t mean to let your emotions get the best of you but your eyes well and your throat tightens, your chest constricts something fierce. 
The sob that erupts out of your chest can’t be disguised by the noise of the water hitting the floor at your feet or the soft groans of Joel, not the breathless whines from yourself either. 
It’s a raw noise, jagged at the edges so much that it hurts leaving your throat. 
“Honey?” Immediately Joel has stopped moving and withdrawn, spinning you around to cup your cheeks. “Why are you cryin’?” He presses insistently, thumbs trying to swipe away your tears. Your cheeks are aflame, embarrassed to have spoilt such an intimate moment after so long. 
“I just - I just missed you.” You whimper, tucking your nose into his bicep. He cradles you to him softly beneath the spray, hushing you gently. This makes you cry more, thinking about how he’s held your babies like this; tenderly like they’re the most fragile  beings made entirely of glass. “Everything feels wrong! And… and…” You sniffle wetly. “And I can’t sleep properly without you and your dumb old man snoring!” 
“Oh, baby.” He chuckles into your hair. 
“I don’t like the whole limited contact stuff either.” You mumble. 
“Neither do I but it’s what was suggested and I think we need to try it, if we don’t like it then that’s a good sign.” He tries to pick your mood up, you pout and nod, leaning into his touch. 
“I’m scared we won’t fix this and I’ll have to watch you start dating someone else.” 
“I’m not gonna date anyone else, lady. I only want you, I’ve only ever wanted you.” He tells you. 
“That’s not true.” You hiccup. “Brandi Neil wanted you and you were going to go to Homecoming with her.” 
“Fuckin’ - that was literally over twenty somethin’ years ago and I went with you in the end!” He huffs indignantly. “Come on, let’s get dry and we can talk some more.” Joel guides you out of the shower with a gentle hand, turning off the water and handing you a towel. He leans over on more than one occasion to peck your lips, he smooths his thumbs beneath your eyes to wipe away the mascara that’s ran in the shower from the steam. 
Once you’re both relatively dry, there’s an awkward shift in the air as you’re both naked still and Joel looks very much aroused, half hard cock swaying as he moves. 
You saunter back to the bed, peering over your shoulder to see that you’ve captured his attention intently and he gulps as you climb onto the mattress, briefly resting on all fours for a split second, wet pussy drooling and exposed before turning onto your back. 
You stretch out against the sheets not dissimilar to a renaissance painting, skin dewy with a look on your face that Joel wants to savour. 
He climbs atop the mattress with you, pushing your thighs apart to settle between them. His warm mouth finds your nipples, sucking them and biting gently, you stretch and arch into him like a puppet on strings, the weight of your breasts fitting in each of his roughened palms. You feel the brush of his cock sway against your inner thigh and you buck against it, trying to encourage him closer, you huff when he ignores you in favour of worshiping your breasts. 
“Calm down.” He murmurs. “We’ll get there.” He promises in that deep baritone which makes your purr. Joel shimmies down your body, palm dragging along your sternum and settling on your stomach where your fingers find his in a desperate squeeze. 
The broadness of him fits between your thighs, one tossed over his shoulder to open you up. It’s erotic how he looks with his mouth on you, silver streaked hair visible and it’s not long before you’re clutching at it, writhing and moaning something pretty. 
He parts your labia and licks slowly, using only the tip of his tongue, flicking over your clit and coaxing it from beneath the hood, sucking it between his lips and running his tongue repeatedly over it as you gasp and pull his hair, he suckles and there’s a lewd slurp thrown in there. 
You purr like a kitten when his fingers enter you, moving steadily and brushing your G spot with such expertise that your eyes water. He knows what you like, having learnt your body and its responses for the better part of twenty years. A gush of slick aids the smooth movement of his ring and middle finger, stroking you from the inside until it proves too much to feel so far from him. 
“Up, Joel.” You whine, tugging his tresses with more force than necessary which causes him to bite your inner thigh in retaliation but he allows himself to be malleable at the hands of you, kneeling between your legs and wiping the slick of you from his moustache and beard. 
Rocking back onto his haunches, he fists his cock at the sight of you looking wrecked, that deep possessive part of him that’s smug because it’s him that makes you look like that; flushed and desperate. 
“I won’t last long, honey.” He warns as he gets into position, wrapping both legs around his waist. 
“Don’t care.” You state, reaching down to grab hold of him and guiding the blunt head of him through your lips, teasing yourself before you notch him just right. He eases himself in gentler than before in the shower, savouring that slow stretch as he feeds you himself until the wiry coarse hairs at the base are dampened by your wetness. 
He drops onto his forearms beside your head, caging you in as he begins to move, the pendant from his St Christopher bumps your chin. You make pretty noises, clawing at his back in a way that leaves diagonal lines in various shades of pink and red. Chests pressed together, heart to heart, a rhythmic beat perfectly in sync. 
“Tell me you love me.” You gasp.
Sitting up, Joel guides your leg over his shoulder, kissing your ankle bone, toying with the dainty gold anklet there that was an anniversary present some years ago. Your back arches against the sheets and you whimper sweetly at the new sensation of his hips fitting snuggly between your thighs and the weeping head of him nudging against the sponged wall of your cervix. 
“I love you.” He groans, hands grappling your hip bones, forcing you closer like he can’t get enough, he looms over you. “I love you so fuckin’ much.” 
“I love you.” You pant back. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” His nose nudges yours, lips hungrily searching to slot against yours, puffy and wet. “You remember night one of our honeymoon?” You press, exhaling hot and tone wanting. 
“Fuck yeah I do, fuck - “ His hips snap harder and you keen. “Pretty as a fuckin picture, still in your weddin’ dress on the floor.” 
“Fuck.” You sigh, fisting at his biceps with slippery fingers. “Barely made it through the motel door.” 
“You looked so fuckin good, honey. Havin’ my baby and ridin’ me on the floor.” His mouth slackens and his eyes slip closed, clearly deep in thought. 
“I wanna do it again, Joel.” You gasp, fingers shakily circling your clit, hard and slippery. 
“Yeah, baby. We’ll have another honeymoon, renew our vows first and everythin’.” He grunts. 
“Baby.” You whimper in his ear. “I’m cumming, fuck me harder.” You say it breathlessly and all his carnal instincts take over, he fucks you that hard the headboard slams into the wall and takes a layer of sage green paint off. You’re loud through your climax, hips jumping and blood rushing through every vein like accelerant and fire. 
“Jesus, I’m gonna cum. Fuck!” He groans, fingers moulding into the mattress, orgasm hitting so hard it makes the edges of his vision blacken. “Fuckin’ Christ.” You kiss his throat from your place beneath him, licking his jugular like the fucking minx you are, biting a tendon. 
The white of his teeth is blinding as his lip curls into a near snarl, the pulse of warmth as he orgasms spreads within you and you pant, flushed from head to toe. 
You kiss him as he grunts to completion, teeth clashing. 
“You’re so good - so good.” You murmur into his mouth, frantically pushing his hair from his damp forehead. “You’re perfect.” You hum, enraptured. 
“That’s you.” He smiles, lip curving against yours. “My pretty little wife.” 
He strokes your hair and traces your features, eyes searching yours for something; hope maybe and you smile gently at him, pulling him down beside you once he’s withdrawn from the warmth of your body. 
You rest against him, cheek to his chest to listen to the thrum below. You count his freckles and you trace his knuckles, you kiss his exposed skin over and over, you absorb as much of him as you can, feeling fulfilled for the first time in weeks. 
Joel quietly observes you, you lean up on your elbow, dragging your manicured nails down the centre of his chest, he watches you with his arm behind his head. You pause and lean down to rest your chin on his sternum, blinking with those fluttery lashes that cast a shadow high on your cheekbones. 
“Thank you for my flowers.” You say, he smiles softly and reaches down to stroke your cheek with his thumb. 
“You’re welcome.” He whispers. “Wanted to do somethin’ nice for you, Ellie messaged me and said you’d had a tough week at work before that dumb fucking argument we had.” His long fingers comb through your hair, you rest easily on his stomach now, letting your eyes slip shut. “Wanna talk about it, baby?” 
“Not really.” You huff. “I don’t want to unload my problems on you.” Joel sighs in exasperation at your vague answer. 
“You can tell me anythin’, you know that.” 
“We’re supposed to be taking time apart to stop the fighting, me unloading everything onto you isn’t going to help that.” You tell him. 
“I think communication is exactly what we need.” He disagrees. 
“You’re starting an argument now.” You chuckle with an eye roll, resting your cheek against his warm skin. He rolls his eyes back but doesn’t reply, continuing to stroke your hair, twirling some around his finger. “Joel?” You ask quietly. 
“Hmm?” 
“What if we can’t fix this?” 
“We can.” He replies determinedly. “Nearly twenty years together and two kids later, I’m still so in love with you, whether we’re fighting or not.” 
“I love you.” You murmur. 
“I love you more.” He replies. “And I love our girls.” Joel adds. 
“Me too.” You shift and snuggle into him, resting your head beneath his chin. 
He holds you quietly, his touch a major comfort. You think back over the almost month it’s been since the marriage counsellor had suggested Joel move out of the martial house for awhile and stay with his brother, just so you could see if distance would be beneficial after the amalgamation of late working nights, the stress of parenting two teenage girls and life itself along with naturally getting older, you already dancing that line of perimenopause. 
The space had made you realise you didn’t want to be without him and you’d both seemed to realise that you didn’t want to split up, you just needed to figure out a way to make things work. 
“I think we should trial the time apart for another week and keep seeing the counsellor for a few more months.” You begin. “I’m gonna figure something out at work and reduce my hours, no more bringing it home with me.” 
“That sounds good.” Joel murmurs, twisting a piece of your hair. “I’m goin’ to cut my days down to four, I think the finances will be fine and I want to be around here more for you and the girls.” He tells you, you nod slowly and blink away the tears that have suddenly come at the softness of his voice. 
“I don’t care if we have to give up any extra luxuries, I just need you and our kids here happy.” You emphasise. 
“That’s what I want too, baby. No more arguments over stupid shit, I’m sorry for bein’ so fuckin’ horrible lately.” 
“I was horrible too, Joel.” You say. “We just need to keep working on things and if we feel an argument brewing then we should take a step back and reassess what’s caused it and find a solution just like the therapist says.” You advise. “Also we should make time for a date night every week.” 
“Sounds good to me, baby.” Joel agrees, tugging you forward. “Kiss me, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He murmurs sweetly and you go easily, moulding yourself over him to meet him for a deep kiss that speaks a thousand words and apologies. 
“Hey.” You say suddenly, eyes flitting over to the vanity where multiple photo frames sit. “You remember that trip we took to Seattle when the kids were little?” Joel follows your line of sight where they’re focused on one of the smaller frames holding two polaroids, one of Sarah and Ellie when they were eight and four, then another you’d taken of Joel on the pier with the wheel behind him you’d taken. 
“Yeah.” He says fondly. “That was a great trip, the kids loved it.” 
“What was that girl called that Ellie made friends with at the aquarium?” You smile as you think of a rambunctious Ellie, stomping around holding her Daddy’s hand in her tiny overalls, pointing at every fish she saw swimming ahead in the glass tunnels. 
“Oh er… fuck. What was it? Little blonde girl with a braid.” He recites, thinking back almost a decade. “Abby!” He suddenly exclaims and you hum, nodding. 
“That was it, they were so cute together watching the sea lion show, remember how jealous Sarah was that she thought all Ellie’s love was being stolen away.” You giggle, nuzzling his shoulder. “We should go again now they’re grown up.” 
There’s a comfortable silence as you bask in the evening sun coming through the window behind the bed, coating you in warmth while you lazily make out with your husband like you used to as teenagers in his beat up truck. 
You moan into his mouth when a hand sneakily skims your back and moulds to the fleshiest part of your backside. Sitting back to take a breath, you begin to kiss at his stubbled jaw, focusing intently on the grey patches and working yourself down his throat, to his clavicle and down his chest where he has yours, Sarah’s and Ellie’s name tattooed over his heart. 
He props himself up in interest on his elbows when you make it to his sternum, nipping near his navel and dragging your nails through the smattering of hair below it until you reach his groin. 
“You think you can go again?” You smirk at him, nipping his hip, sucking a small bruise into the skin above his pubic area.
“Keep doin’ that and I’ll be rarin’ to go.” He huffs, cradling the back of your head when you lick above his pubic area.
You move lower and his cock begins to swell against his thigh, his thighs tense when your hot breath drifts over his length. 
Just as you’re about to drag your tongue over the flushed head of him, you hear a car skim across the gravel driveway and you both freeze. 
“Shit, that’s the kids.” You panic, sitting up and swinging your legs off the bed to gather up something to wear. “Quick!” You urge Joel who looks equally as panicked as he yanks up his boxers. You find a long floral dress to throw on from the corner and manage to yank up the panties you were wearing earlier, the crotch becomes sodden with the semen but you ignore the uncomfortable wet feeling and try to fan away the flush on your cheeks as you watch your husband get dressed. 
You’re both barrelling down the stairs just as the front door opens and you bump into Joel as you skid on foyer tiles, he steadies you as your kids stare back. 
You and Joel try to act casual despite the feral things you’ve just done.
“You’re back early.” You squeak, very aware of your damp hair and smudged makeup. 
It’s a mere second before your daughter’s come barrelling full force towards the apple of their eyes, pregnancy and labour be damned. 
“Dad!” The girls squeal in unison, rushing to hug him. He wraps an arm around each of them, eyes slipping shut with contentment. 
“Hi, my girls.” He sighs happily, nosing Ellie’s hairline and then Sarah’s. 
“Missed you.” You hear Ellie tell him. 
“Hi, mom.” You mock unseriously, crossing your arms. 
“Hey, mom.” Ellie mocks devilishly, tilting her head back with the same teasing look her father possesses more often than not. She’s her father’s daughter, a carbon copy of him whereas Sarah is more like you. 
“You have a good afternoon?” You ask when Sarah meanders her way into your orbit, wrapping her arms around your waist. She nods against you and you tuck some hair out of her face, she nuzzles into you. 
“The movie was packed so we got frozen yoghurt and walked around Target instead, we got you some candy.” She says sweetly, rubbing her cheek into your collar whilst Ellie is resting her chin against Joel’s chest with her arms wound around his waist, whispering something that makes him chuckle and sway her from side to side tenderly. 
She stares up at him like he’s hung the stars and the moon just for you, you’re certain she’d crawl into his rib cage and stay there if she could and you don’t blame her.
“Thank you, sweet girls.” You beam. “Hey, are you both in for dinner tonight?” You suddenly wonder. 
“Yes, sir.” Ellie replies. 
“I’ve got no plans.” Sarah shrugs. 
“How about we Doordash something? Could eat it on the patio?” You suggest and Ellie cheers, Joel chuckles into her hair. 
“Even Dad?” Sarah hesitates as she asks, looking at you hopefully. Your heart breaks, Joel staying away had some serious effects in the first week even though they knew you weren’t going through a divorce and trying to fix things. Ellie acted out at school and Sarah shut herself away, both missing their father’s presence at home even though they saw him most days after school and on weekends if they weren’t out with friends. 
You’d never stopped them seeing him and wouldn’t dare to even if things were irreparable between you. 
“Of course.” You answer Sarah, Ellie looks between you and Joel curiously, her eyes narrow when she sees him smiling softly at you and clocks you blushing. 
“Whatcha both been doing?” Ellie asks slyly. 
“Hanging out, your Dad fixed the shelf for me.” You tell her nonchalantly over Sarah’s head. “So uh.. which one of you ratted on me for breaking it?” 
“Dunno what you’re talking about, man.” Ellie sniffs, you tug the end of her ponytail.
“Mmm.” You murmur, unconvinced. “Go get changed into something comfy and have a think about what you fancy for dinner.” You order, nodding towards the stairs. 
“Race ya!” Ellie bellows suddenly, pushing Sarah into you to get a head start. 
“Hey!” Her older sister shouts, barrelling after her while you sigh and head towards the kitchen, the peace and quiet officially gone. 
Joel gives you a flirtatious look and your heart jumps, your chest warms as do your cheeks. 
“Stop looking at me like that.” You demand, pushing his face away in the opposite direction. He chuckles and grabs your wrist, using it as leverage to pull you to him.  
“What? Like I want to eat you?” He murmurs lowly, you hum affirmatively. “Maybe I do.” 
“That could be arranged.” You whisper, he takes you back into his arms, walking with you until you hit the edge of the kitchen island. You pull him into a kiss, dragging your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck. 
He growls lowly and hoists you up onto the surface, stepping between your legs, running his hands up and down your parted thighs. 
“The kids are listenin’ to us.” Joel whispers into your ear when he pulls away, nodding outside of the kitchen entryway where you realise you didn’t hear them run all the way to the top of the stairs. 
“No, we’re not!” Sarah has the audacity to yell with offence, you giggle into Joel’s t-shirt.
“Get changed before I make your Dad cook his famous spaghetti surprise dinner tonight instead of getting take out!” You holler back. 
“That was one time.” Joel complains under his breath. 
“Make us a sister.” Ellie shouts from halfway upstairs. 
“No chance! Dad got snipped after you anyway, he said you were more than enough trouble and you were barely out the womb!” You shout back, cackling when you hear both her and Sarah gag fiercely. 
“It’s true!” Joel adds. “I had frozen peas on my crotch for days!”
“Gross!” They both exclaim. 
That night, you sit on the patio furniture, with your husband and children, your feet cradled in his lap with glasses of wine and takeout with quiet music playing from Alexa, giggling and telling them stories of your teenage years and some of a time they’re too young to remember, planning a trip to Seattle they’re ecstatic over. 
You’re certain that everything will be okay. 
510 notes · View notes
alexiroflife · 2 months
Text
"five more minutes?"
part 2.
college au, grungy!choso, fluffff, beginnings of mutual pining
choso kamo x writing tutor!reader
Synopsis: your last tutoring session of the day catches you off guard when the hottest guy you've ever seen in your life walks into the writing center
to sum it up: you and choso didn't expect to enjoy each other's company so much and your giddy awkwardness shows it
WC: 3,700
Warning(s): none, just you and choso being cute as hell
-> guys i am speechless thank you so much for +2,000 followers y'all are amazing i love you so much
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You, in truth, never wanted to be a writing tutor.
Your English professor had recommended you to do so, seeing that you had a tendency to excel in your creative and academic writing courses. Your major in english and the years prior you spent scribbling away the fantasies of your mind in middle and high school certainly were to commend for you exceptional writing skills now, but you find that any time you’re actually forced to put pen to paper instead of doing so on your own will dulls the experience entirely. 
You can’t necessarily complain too much because you are getting paid (certainly not enough as a junior in university), but you don’t exactly enjoy the tediousness of having to sit down with freshmen who are crawling their way through their introductory writing courses, fighting to keep their engagement as they try to rush you through your hour and a half appointment- despite how badly they need it.
Writing is an art, and should be treated as such, but god, the way the intro courses are treating it and how the students treat it accordingly truly hurts your soul. Especially because they’re required classes, and people never fare well in classes they’re forced to take. You have first hand experience with that.
You’re almost done for the day when you double check your schedule to see that you have one more slot filled before you can call it a day.
Sighing, you lean back in your desk chair and click on the profile of the boy you’re meant to be meeting with. Apparently he’s in a grade above you working on a seminar. You raise your brow, curiosity striking you. You don’t typically find many upperclassmen coming to your services since they normally already have the writing training that they need and have been crafting enough essays to get the hang of things, or are simply too lazy to be bothered with visiting the writing center.
You don’t have much time to ponder it before there’s a knock on your office door frame, signifying the arrival of the person you are to be mentoring. You look up, and the breath almost flies from your lungs when you see a tall brunette clad in heavy, dark cargo pants, a tattered band tee, and a puffy jacket. His heavily lined, violet eyes meet yours tiredly, though after a few moments, a sprinkle of light flickers its way into his irises upon registering the sight of you. 
“I’m… uh, here for my 3:30?” his remarkably deep voice mumbles out as he stares at you pensively, ringed fingers clutching the strap of his beaten satchel book bag. “You’re (Y/n)?”
You blink. “Oh, y-yeah. Sorry,” you clear your throat, hastily throwing on a friendly smile. “Come in. You can take a seat right here.”
You gesture to the chair before you at your desk, and he approaches, slinging his bag from his shoulder to the floor and seating himself in the cushioned seat. 
You scroll through your computer mindlessly to relocate his profile and exactly what he is here for, but you can’t deny the fact that your mind is immensely distracted by the presence of the man sitting in front of you. You can feel his pretty eyes wandering over the room, bouncing over you then to his lap. You clench your jaw to prevent yourself from practically screaming, for this kid is insanely attractive in a grungy, silent loner kind of way, and you’re unsure of how you’ll even be able to focus throughout the session.
“It’s Choso, right?” you ask, turning from your monitor to meet his diamond eyes.
He nods, pressing his lips together. “Yeah.”
“Okay, cool. Nice to meet you. Why don’t you walk me a bit through what you need help with?”
He releases a heavy sigh, scratching the back of his head and averting his gaze. “I don’t know, my senior sem professor said I needed to work on my paragraph structure for the essay part of the project,” he explains almost disinterestedly. “I don’t really know what she means, so I figured I’d just come here.”
“Okay,” you nod. “Do you have a draft that you can show me?”
Choso reluctantly nods once more, leaning over to collect his bag and pull out a thin stack of papers. He gathers them in his hands and as if embarrassed, slides them across the wood table toward you. You take it from him and briefly skim over the words, the title catching your eye.
“You’re a bio major?” you ask, interest piqued.
“…Um, yeah. I’m writing about blood coagulation… it’s kinda boring stuff I guess.”
“No way, I think that’s sick,” you say casually, flipping through the other pages. “I could never begin to understand that stuff.”
You miss the way Choso’s gaze lingers on your face in momentary, subtle surprise. Your eyes fly up from the page to him again, and he immediately looks away. 
You place the papers back down. “I can kinda see what your professor means just by first glance,” you tell him, reaching over to grab a red pen from your pencil holder.
“That fast?” Choso asks, raising a brow.
You chuckle slightly. “I mean, I didn’t get to see everything obviously. I was just browsing, but I do this a lot. I notice you tend to jump from one thing to another without a solid transition.”
“Oh.”
“That’s okay, though. And was it just paragraph structure…? Was there anything else you specifically wanted to look at?”
He shrugs stiffly. “I don’t really know,” he admits. “I’m… less of a writer and more of a researcher. I don’t really- I’m not too good with this kind of stuff in general. I just do the work.”
“That’s no problem. You’ve got the important parts down,” you assure him. “Here, why don’t we move to the center next door? It’ll be easier for me to help you with your paper when I’m next to you instead of sitting across.”
“Sure.”
You believe that you have sabotaged yourself in suggesting so, though moving to a less cramped room is something you always do with your clients. Even so, the second you and Choso seat yourselves beside each other at a rounded table in the next room, with another appointment taking place across the room and rather distant from you, his scent of woody cologne consumes your senses the moment his breeze blows past you with his settlement into his chair. 
Your eyes go slightly wide, his arm inches away from brushing yours when he throws his bag over the back of the chair. While he pulls out his computer and gets his papers and notes situated, you sneak a glance at him out of the corner of your eye.
He beholds the facial structure of a model, a rather bored, tired energy capturing his eyes but emphasizing his beauty nonetheless. His hair, you think, is styled uniquely into two ponytails, but it somehow complements his aura perfectly. Tendrils of chocolate brown sweep over his forehead and behind his ear, and that is when you catch a peak of a tattoo creeping up his neck from behind his jacket collar. 
This guy is too gorgeous for his own good. Part of you doesn’t believe that he is aware of his beauty himself, for he carries himself as though he wishes not to be seen, or more accurately, hardly pays any attention or care to how he is perceived by the surrounding world. He’s reserved, calm, and oh, the way his Adam's apple bops when he clears his throat softly is criminal.
You’re prepared to ask him about his tattoo when you recall that you are supposed to be maintaining a professional, yet amiable environment. To make it obvious that he’s captured your attention and then some would interfere with the entire purpose of his appointment, which he scheduled for academic assistance with you, a tutor. 
You immediately avert your gaze when reality smacks you in the face and you shift your focus back to his paper, sliding it under your palm and ripping the cap of your pen rather harshly. Just as you turn away, Choso finds himself peering over at you, but far less sneakily. 
He had come here expecting to despise the entire process, for his pride is slightly wounded that he even has to visit a writing tutor, but he refuses to allow his lacking skill in essay craft to debunk his grade in something he is so passionate about, and something that he desperately needs to graduate. Besides, he has come for help early enough in the process for it not to have much of a strain on the final product overall, but when he found you in your office, he hadn’t expected to be working with someone like… you.
He was expecting a stuck up hermit who was prepared to tear apart every single piece of his rough draft that he had thrown together, sneering down at him through round framed glasses and frowning at his sheer inferiority within the English department. Instead, he’s greeted with you; a fresh, friendly and drop dead gorgeous face that welcomes him in with no judgment. Aesthetically, and likely spiritually, the two of you can’t appear more different, but you don’t seem at all moved by his dark presence. You smile at him, and you compliment his work though no one has ever taken him as a guy interested in or withholding the brains of one who desires to study the inner workings of the human body. He half thinks you’re just being nice because it’s your job, but he can’t help but take a liking to you immediately solely because of how pretty he deems you to be.
Not only that, but you guide him through each and every one of his stand points within his draft, circling words, marking down sentences, scribbling little notes in the corner summarizing the main point he wishes to get across and how he intends to prove so with his research. You listen to him after asking him to explain something you don’t quite understand, and your eyes search his honestly as he mutters through his intentions that are yet to be properly conveyed on the page. You then nod along with him and tell him that he makes perfect sense when he talks, then you freely provide suggestions about how he can improve this portrayal of understanding in a different way.
And everything you tell him, he understands effortlessly. You have a way with your words and how you transcribe them into something that can be put into paper. You know absolutely nothing about what Choso does academically, but somehow, you magically transform that unknown into what you do know. You tell him that literacy is universal, so it’s easy for you to take any topic and help him construct it properly for literary intake. 
Choso finds himself enraptured by your tutoring. He’s agreeing with you, humming in interest and pointing at the things you write for him, typing away at his notes to record everything he’s hearing. He’s taken by the way your lips move when you speak passionately, intelligently; how your hands swirl animatedly with your speech as you paint physical pictures in the air of what you are verbalizing; how you grin widely when Choso adds onto your suggestions, proving that he is getting a hang of what you are telling him. And above all, Choso can see the joy in your eyes as you help him, how entranced you are by the chance to hold an intelligent conversation about what you have mastered doing and what Choso has mastered doing.
You actually like tutoring him, and Choso can tell because he has come to enjoy being tutored by you within the hour and a half block that you are given.
The two of you only make it through about eight of twenty pages before you somehow get off topic, minutes past your block has ended.
“How long have you been a tutor?” the purple eyed man beside you questions suddenly. You look up, closing the cap of your pen with a gentle smile. You don’t even notice the other appointment in the room leaving, the two of you now completely alone.
“Just for a little over a year,” you say. “I started at the beginning of sophomore year last year.”
“So, you’re only a junior,” Choso observes.
“Didn’t you know that when you clicked my profile on the tutoring site?” you tilt your head.
Choso shakes his head, looking down as he reaches his hand to his keyboard and bouncing his leg. “I… wasn’t paying attention,” he mutters and you laugh slightly.
“You could have picked anybody to help you, then.”
“Yeah, apparently,” he hums. “I’m glad I got you though.”
A certain giddiness captures you as your light smile brightens. “Really?”
“I- just mean, you’re a good teacher,” he adds quickly, brows drawing together. His jumping knee leans over the slightest in his manspreading position beneath the table, leading it to bump against yours clumsily. The two of you look down at the same time, and he brings his leg back in hastily. “Sorry.”
“You’re good,” you bring your shoulders up as you crowd your hands in your lap, his brief contact having startled your nerves. “And thanks. I try my best. I actually had fun during our session.”
He turns to look at you. “You had fun trying to fix my awful writing?”
“No, no,” you chuckle. “Usually I help a lot of freshmen and they don’t really care what they’re writing about, but you really seem to.”
He hums. “I get it.”
“So… why biology? Why blood function?”
“I don’t know. It’s always been cool to me, how much stuff happens inside the body that we can’t see,” he says lowly. “I also… got money to come here in high school for science and all that. It’s kinda always been something I’m good at.”
“You say that like it’s not a big deal,” you raise your brows, turning in your chair to face him completely. He glances at you momentarily from the side, but keeps himself awkwardly forward as he clicks randomly away at the keys on his computer. You can see a dust of pink creeping over his pale skin as he eyes his screen. 
“It’s not really. Plenty of people have scholarships and stuff.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t make yours any less impressive,” you say, and his blush brightens. He’s so cute. “What would you wanna do with that when you graduate? This is your last year, right?”
“Oh, uh,” he tilts his head back. “I’m looking for work now… but I don’t know, not a lot of jobs in my field would really…” he tries to find a way to explain. His lips tug to the side and his brows angle, hand finding his locks. “...approve of the way I present. I could probably get away with being a lab tech, but if not, I’d do something behind the scenes. Maybe get another job in retail, too.”
You hum, looking over him. “Is it because of your…” you stop to point to his neck. He looks at you quizzically, reaching his hand to where you point. His face relaxes in realization.
“Yeah,” he breathes out a light laugh, and you shiver. “Didn’t know you could see that.”
“Only a little…” you grin. “What is it?”
He takes in a deep breath, looping his fingers over his jack and pulling it down from the skin by his ear. His face is still lit with a pinch of color as he averts his gaze, tilting his chin so that you can see the sharp lines of ink swerving from behind his ear down to his collarbone, a cyber sigilism design. 
You gulp, your own face growing warm with heat as you examine the way his muscles ripple beneath the tattoo, his face bored though leg still jittery with nerves. 
“I like it,” you say as he releases his jacket and lets it rise to conceal his neck once more. “It suits you.”
He looks at you, pursing his lips. “Thanks. I have a lot more.”
“Yeah?” your eyes dash over his frame out of curiosity.
“You won’t be able to see them,” he tells you, and you snap your eyes right back up to his face. A small smile plays on his lips.
“O-Oh. Right,” you stammer. “How many do you have?”
“At least, like, twenty by now.”
“Really?!” you gasp, rather impressed. “Did they hurt?”
“Only a few, but you get used to it after a while.”
“Hmm. You’re making me think I should get a tattoo.”
Choso’s lips curl into a full fledged grin as he examines you, seemingly amused by the idea. You falter slightly when his teeth reveal from behind his soft lips, a dimple prodding in the corner of his cheek with his smile. “You’d get one?”
You pick up on his slightly playful tone and raise a brow. “Why? I don’t look like I would?”
He shakes his head. “I mean- well, no, but-” he paused. “I guess I don’t look like I’d want to be a medical professional, so.”
You can feel your smile widening, your heart brimming with excitement as he opens himself up to bantering with you. And his smile… you would have never expected such an angelic sight on someone like him. You knew he was handsome before, but now with his eyes shining with humor, his cheeks flushed, and a tumble of shy laughter spilling from his throat, you’re willing to risk everything for a chance to hear him laugh again.
“See?” you muse as he finally closes his laptop.
“Where would you get one?”
“Uhhhh,” you try to think. “Maybe… on my shoulder?”
“Yeah?” he pokes out his bottom lip and nods. “I think you’d pull it off,” he goes to tuck his papers back into his bag, keeping his eyes down as the next phrase falls from his mouth. “Maybe I should take you to get one.”
Your brows jump at his suggestion, unsure of whether he is joking or being serious. He catches your eye when he pulls himself back up, heliotrope pools simmering with that hint of bashfulness as he looks at you through his long lashes. 
“Y-You know,” he starts once more. “After you finish helping me with the rest of my essay.”
Your mind clicks when the topic at hand shifts back to the reason why you are sitting with him in the first place. You turn to look at the clock on the other side of the room and widen your eyes when you find that it is half an hour past when you were meant to be finished. “Speaking of,” you start. “We ran really late.”
Choso perks up, following your gaze. “Oh… shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to… keep you.”
“No, it’s okay! Really. I didn’t even notice what time it was,” you say. Choso stalls with his hand on his computer, having prepared to put it away, but something in his mind is making him hesitate.
“So-”
“Did you-”
You both stop, having talked over each other, and you laugh nervously. “Sorry, you first,” you tell him.
“No, you go.”
You oblige. “Well… when are you free next? We can keep working on your draft. Maybe in the library soon if you want a change of scenery? Or not, we could just stay here.”
You don’t know why you’re all of a sudden acting like a child struggling to speak before him. You are meant to be scheduling a follow-up, as you do with everyone you tutor, but somehow it feels as though you’re asking Choso out on a date.
Before you can say anything more, the brunette is nodding before he even comprehends what you’re asking. “Yes. The library is good. Let’s do that.”
You grin, relieved. “Okay. Cool. Great. When-?”
“Whenever,” he rushes. You blink, and he reels in upon noticing how quickly he answered. He turns away. “I mean- whenever you’re free.”
“Next week? Same time?”
He hums. “Yeah. That’s- that’s perfect.”
You go to stand as Choso reaches for his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. The two of you stand before each other, silence taking you as you find yourselves unsure of what else to say. 
You look to the side and notice that Choso’s computer is still sitting on the table. You reach out for it, gathering it safely in your hands and presenting it to him. “Here. Don’t forget this.”
He looks down at the device and his brows lift. “Oh, yeah. Right,” he takes the computer from your hands, brushing his fingers accidentally with yours, before pulling it into his grasp and tucking it into his bag, lowering his head to hide his flustered expression. “Thank you. And thanks for the… the help.”
You nod, smiling. “Anytime.”
You remain before each other for a moment more, neither of you desiring to leave just yet. 
“Should I, you know, give you my contact?” Choso suggests, and you perk up. “For next week, and I guess in the future when we schedule other appointments…”
“Oh, yeah! Sure, here.”
You pull out your phone and let him hover over you, his scent invading your senses once more as he types his number into an empty contact. You call it once he is finished so that your number can pop up on his phone, and he leans away. “Got it.”
“Great,” you smile at him. “I’ll see you next week?”
“Yeah. See you then.”
You watch his tall figure trudge away, out of the doorway and down the hall with his face into his phone as he works to save your contact. The moment he leaves, you heave out and press your hand to your chest, excitement fluttering through you in the form of butterflies. 
Hell. What you would have given to get just another five minutes alone with that beautiful stranger. Maybe he would have asked you to hang out sometime properly. 
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cipheress-to-k-pop · 6 months
Text
academic rivals d.g.
Pairing: Dick Grayson as Robin x Reader
Warnings: Some injuries.
Word Count: 4.3K
A/N: Full discretion this idea was given to me by an anon and even though I said I wasn't taking requests I just couldn't resist.
Also @writing2sirvive I hope you find this offer acceptable after not writing for our baby for so long 😭😭
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There was always a slight pinch of anxiety when your teacher went around the class, handing back your test papers after grading them and you waited with slightly bated breath, a fist clutching the fabric of your uniform.
Even though you knew you had done well on the exam, you were particularly unnerved by her declaration before distributing the stack of papers that only one person had managed to get a perfect score.
You kept your eyes trained on your desk, waiting for someone behind you to exclaim that they had gotten a 100% but it never came. Not until your teacher had placed your paper in front of you with a soft 'Good job'.
You beamed, barely able to contain your excitement as you waited for the bell to ring.
Of course, you were over the moon that you got a 100. And that you were the only person in the entire class that managed to get one.
But secretly, you were more elated by the fact that someone else didn't.
"Aw, what's wrong Grayson? Your daddy finally run out of money to bribe your teachers with?" You snarked as soon as you caught a glance of the 93 written in red at the top of his paper.
"Sub-par insult, (L/N)." He said flatly.
"I disagree, nothing about me is sub-par, as you can clearly see." A sly grin on your face as you waved your paper with '100' in his face. He rolled his eyes so far back you couldn't resist making a comment, "Roll your eyes as hard as you want, Grayson, you won't be able to find a brain back there."
His friend, Barbara, who was sitting beside him chuckled at this and he turned to her with an irritated glare, "Can I help you?"
She gave him a teasing smile, unnerved by his annoyance toward her, "Oh, nothing, I'm just eagerly waiting for the day you both stop pretending you hate each other and start dating."
It seemed like her comment had just the effect she had wanted when Dick choked on his spit in his haste to argue that even if you were the last person on Earth, he wouldn't go near you with a 10-foot-pole.
"I'm not too happy to agree with you, Grayson but I, very fortunately, have a boyfriend."
His face twisted, "Gross, who'd wanna date you?"
You gave him a fake smile, "Hopefully, not you."
***
"Recognized: Domino, B-08."
You squealed in joy the second the light faded from your eyes, gaze landing on your boyfriend who stood right outside the zeta tube with a giant smile on his face.
You threw your arms around Robin's neck with a giggle, peppering his lips with smiley kisses that he so enthusiastically returned, his arms snug around your waist.
"Do you guys have to do this every time?" Came Conner's unimpressed voice as he shuffled uncomfortably around the two of you making out, "Can you at least stop doing it in the middle of the entrance? People are trying to get places."
You pulled away with a soft blush, smiling at the sight of your sparkly lip gloss on Robin's mouth and his slightly dazed expression. There was nothing like your kisses that was able to knock the vigilante's world off its axis and it had been this way ever since you started dating 10 months ago.
The pair of you were still very much in the honeymoon phase, much to the chagrin of your teammates, who have walked in on you many times while your lips were practically glued to each other.
"How was your day?" Robin finally asked when you had each gotten your fair share of kisses, leading you to the kitchen for a snack before the mission briefing and you beamed, "Amazing! I got a perfect score on that test from last week!"
He raised a brow, "The one that you skipped a date to study for?"
Smiling, you nodded, "The very one."
He sighed, taking a box out of the fridge, "See? I told you that you'd do great! You probably didn't even need to skip our date."
You rolled your eyes, giggling at his pout that you were all too quick to kiss away, "Hey now, I made it up to you, didn't I?"
Nodding, he pushed the box further toward you with a smile, "You did. Which is why I got you this, but I guess it could be for a job well done too."
You gasped when you saw the squiggles of the familiar logo of your favourite bakery on the top of the box and eagerly opened it up, completely missing the fact that it had been sealed with tape and nearly ripping the carboard to shreds in order to get to the treats inside.
The smell of the strawberry shortcake and red velvet cupcake had you salivating, and you wasted to time before digging in.
"Ugh, I love you." You moaned, nearly dissolving into the symphony of flavours and Robin chuckled swiping some of the cream cheese frosting off your cheek before licking it off his thumb, "Are you talking to me or the cupcake?"
You paused, glancing up at him from the cupcake wrapper, "I can love more than one thing."
His affectionate gaze had you melting, forgetting the delicious treat for a second, "Thank you for the gift, I really love it."
Robin happily accepted the sugary kiss you had given him, "Well, I figured, since it had been a while since we had a date in Gotham, you'd be craving it."
You only took another bite of the cupcake to hide your guilty wince. While the list of details you didn't know about your boyfriend was limitless, starting with his name and ending with literally anything else, you felt guilty that he somehow knew even less about you.
At least you knew what city he lived in while he was under the impression that you lived in Star City with Dinah, your mentor. You really thought he wouldn't buy it, especially after he didn't believe Artemis the first time.
But nearly a year after joining the team it would seem that he was still blissfully unaware, and you were planning to reveal your identity to him soon enough. You were firm that you wouldn't be celebrating your one-year anniversary without knowing each other's names at least.
At least once he found out you were living in the same city, you'd be able to have more frequent dates.
"Team to mission room." You heard over the PA, and you grabbed the box with you to the meet Batman and Canary along with the team, unwilling to leave your precious strawberry shortcake at the hands of Wally. This way you'd be able to dislocate his shoulder the second he put his hands on your things.
When you entered the room to find a face that you recognized on the holoscreen, you paused and glanced at Artemis who shrugged in response.
"Leo 'The Lion' Stark, the leader of the cult that was kidnapping young girls was officially incarcerated this morning."
Cheers erupted around the room, and you passed the box in your hands to your boyfriend to high-five Artemis and bring her into a hug. Black Canary patted the both of you on the shoulder, "Job well done on this mission, you two."
The mission that led to his arrest had been an undercover op with both you and Artemis posing as the girls from the private school that was being targeted. Eventually, you were able to find the leader and put a stop to his entire organization.
You had never seen Robin more fearful for your life than during this mission and it was after it that you had said your first I love you's.
"Today's mission is a covert op. For stealth, I will only be sending two members of the team: Robin and Domino."
Robin sent you a smile and you squeezed your interlocked fingers underneath the table.
"If they can stop kissing long enough to actually get the mission done." Conner grumbled underneath his breath and was rewarded with a swift kick to the knee.
***
It happened too quickly.
Everything was going fine. The mission was well underway, and you had observed them long enough to know where they were keeping their illegal servers. All that was left was to input your program that would upload all their data wirelessly so it could be accessed by the league.
Then it all went wrong, all at once.
You don't even remember much of what happened. All you knew is that when you had least expected it, someone had snuck up on you and you had felt your stomach squeeze with a painful terror that you hadn't experienced in a long time upon being caught off-guard.
"The Lion sends his greetings."
What followed was a series of excruciating shocks up your body that had your heartbeat ceasing in your chest and the movement of every single muscle came to a standstill such that you couldn't even make a sound come out of your throat.
You didn't even have the time to think about anything before you lost consciousness, the last thought flashing through your head being your worry for Robin.
And then every single pulse in your head came to an abrupt end.
“Come on hero, come on!” Robin panted as he continued to pump his hands against your chest, counting down the beats in his head to the compressions, “Baby please, please wake up!”
He was in tears, even though he tried to control them, but he had been looking at your unconscious face for the last 30 minutes as he continuously tried to revive you. His stomach was in knots and his chest felt like it was on fire, but he still didn’t quit, he wouldn’t until he passed out himself.
Before he could even stop himself, he was sobbing and the wails he let out erased the count he was keeping in his head, “Someone please help! Please help.”
His communicator lay discarded only a couple of feet beside him, but he couldn’t take his hands off you for a second, he couldn’t mess up the beat, he couldn’t stop the chest compressions because you’d die; and he’d die right alongside you.
“Robin, come in. Robin, can you hear me?”
His chest collapsed in a fit of sobs as soon as he heard the sound of his mentor come through from the communicator. The device beeped with the sound that alerted him of an override indicating that his mentor could now listen in.
“Batman help! She’s not breathing! I don't think she has a pulse! I’m trying to do CPR but she’s not awaking up! Please help!”
“Hang in there, Robin. Someone will be there in five.”
***
"She's alive but her brain was deprived of oxygen for a while so we can't accurately put a time frame on when she could wake up." Batman explained, his voice as stiff as concrete like always but the hand he placed on his ward's shoulder was warm and comforting.
There were so many questions rushing through Robin's head, but he kept silent because a part of him already knew the answer. This wasn't the first time he had seen something like this, while being Robin he had seen countless families, parents, spouses, receive the same news.
The distraught questions would usually follow: would take months? years? is there a chance that she could never wake up? is there anything he could do?
He wanted to ask Batman anyway, he wanted Batman to lie and say that everything would be okay, that the girl he loved would wake up soon and he just had to wait but he knew better than anyone that was all it would be. Lies.
There were those that were fortunate enough for their loved one to eventually wake up. Others would be forced to watch life go by while their loved ones were imprisoned to a bed with the empty hope that one day they'd wake up.
So, he swallowed down all his questions, Adam's apple bobbing painfully in his throat, "Can I see her?"
His father nodded, leading him to the med-bay with one hand on his back. Robin felt his stomach sink with every step he took, staring sullenly at his sock-clad feet. In his rush to change after the mission so he could get to you as soon as possible, he had thrown on anything he could find.
Which resulted in him being dressed in your sweatpants and his hoodie that you had stolen so often it smelt like you; a combination that both comforted him and broke his heart all at once.
When he saw you from the door, a rush of epiphanies struck through him like lightning to a metal rod. Although, first and foremost, he was just relieved to see you. Even though it hurt him to see you unconscious, and he knew that there was a chance he'd never get to see you awake again, a part of him forgot all about that as soon as he saw you.
He took quick steps toward you, wanting nothing more than to feel your skin against his when he stopped in his tracks once again with wide eyes, realizing you were without your mask.
"Robin?"
"I-I know her. (Y/N) (L/N), s-she's in my class." He stammered, staring at your relaxed features with his mouth hanging open. As odd as it sounded, this was the first time he had ever seen you, as (Y/N), so relaxed.
Whether it was a scowl or even just a grimace, you always seemed to be frowning at him and he never bothered to pay any attention to you outside of classes, when you were talking with your friends. He was sure you'd have a mesmerizing grin, one that would reach your beautiful eyes.
Batman stayed silent behind him, and Dick wondered just how many times Bruce had heard him talking shit about the love of his life, having to keep silent to respect your privacy. His cheeks coloured, remembering the conversation from this morning, where he had claimed that he would never touch you even with a 10-foot pole.
If only he had known that he had been pressed against the same girl so many nights prior.
"Does it matter?" Batman asked, snapping him out of his mortified state where he remembered every single insult he had ever directed at you, either to your face or behind your back.
To anyone else, it would have sounded like a shallow question, but Dick knew his father was concerned about whether his feelings would have changed, whether your identity did matter to him more than your relationship or his love for you.
He swallowed, walking up to your bedside, and gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face and for the first time in his life, he took in all your features. It was startling how quickly his worst enemy became the most beautiful person in the world.
"No, it doesn't."
***
You could see the bright light even though your eyes were shut. There was nothing more you wanted than to slip back into your deep slumber but for some reason your consciousness began trickling back into your head in a gentle stream.
You squirmed, brows pinching together in a frown as you murmured something unintelligible, features twitching until finally your eyes began to flutter open.
"(Y/N)?" You heard and your hand was squeezed by someone you couldn't quite place. Your vision was still quite blurry, and you were extremely disoriented. Still, you tried to blink through the hazy shapes in your sight and you managed to recognize a familiar head of black hair.
"Baby?" You breathed out, sighing in relief when he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, "Thank goodness you're okay."
Right before you had lost consciousness, a thought had flashed into your head. Robin would never abandon you there, no matter what had happened to you, if you had died or just lost consciousness.
You worried that in his effort to stick by you, he'd be hurt or worse.
"Me? (Y/N), you were unconscious for two days! Do you have any idea how worried I've been?!"
If you had been any more conscious, you probably would've been concerned over the way his voice broke in grief and his heartbroken words but in your exhaustion, all you could do was give him a silly smile, wishing your eyes could focus long enough for you to see his beautiful face.
"I'm okay now, I'm okay."
"I didn't think you would be." He confessed, pressing another kiss to your fingertips, holding your hand gingerly but still in a firm grip in between both of his. Like he was scared you'd evaporate and disappear before his eyes.
"I'm okay, baby. Just a little sleepy." You told him, feeling your consciousness slip further and further away as your blinks began to get longer and longer and your strength began to disappear, "You'll be here when I wake up, right?"
He nodded, voice thick with unshed tears even though you couldn't see him, "Yeah. I'll be right here."
***
This time when you woke, you felt much more refreshed than you had before. Your head didn't feel like it was nailed to the pillow anymore, but it felt like you had lead in your veins which was expected considering you had been unconscious for days.
Despite his promise, Robin was nowhere to be found when you finally sat up, stretching your arms as much as you could, careful of the IV in your hand. Your eyes darted around the familiar med-bay, trying to catch a glance of the clock by craning your neck but was ultimately unsuccessful.
Was it a weekday? Was it school hours? Was that why Robin wasn't at your side like you had asked him? What about you? What excuse had Batman given the school to explain your sudden absence? Were your parents aware that you had been injured?
The endless barrage of questions was silenced to a mum when you heard the door slide open and you sighed in relief, noticing the head of black hair first, "I believe you promised to be here when I wo—!"
Dick Grayson was beaming at you and in certain angles of the light, his blue eyes almost looked glossy with tears, but you shook your head unconsciously. Why would he be crying at the sight of you?
'Because you're so ugly the sight is making my eyes water.' Would have been his classic response and you practically rolled your eyes at the thought.
"(Y/N), you're awake!" He took a step closer, and you flinched.
"Stop right there!" He quite literally froze in his steps, he might as well have been encased in ice at the receiving end of your cold glare, "What the hell are you doing here, Grayson?"
He paused and somehow you were annoyed by the dumbfounded look on his face while multiple scenarios ran through your head. A concussion, brain injury or something along that likeness. Perhaps the part of your brain responsible for recognizing faces was damaged and this wasn't actually Dick Grayson. Amnesia, possibly? Maybe you were actually good friends with him but managed to forget it all? Of course, there was always the possibility this was a dream.
Your brow twitched at his lack of response, "I asked you a question."
At your terse tone, it seemed like he was finally able to snap himself out of his stupor, "(Y/N), baby, it's me."
You scowled, "Don't call me that and speak clearly; the hell do you mean by 'me'?"
"Baby," He said again, so firmly that you were silenced in your effort to snap at him again, "It's me."
Dick watched as your face melted from an expression of disgruntled bewilderment to the smallest sliver of recognition. Your eyes raked over his body, only now noticing that he was in short sleeves, and you were able to see the familiar scar on his forearm that belonged to your boyfriend. The little patch of freckles near his elbow that you had traced with your finger so many times before.
Your voice was small when you called him again, "Rob?"
He nodded and your eyes went wide, not quite able to believe it. Your boyfriend stood stiffly, berating himself for not handling this better. He had very quickly gotten over the fact that his girlfriend was his greatest rival in high school while he watched your unconscious face for the past couple of days, waiting for you to wake up.
It had completely slipped his mind that you were still unaware of his identity, and he swallowed nervously. Sure, it was something he could easily put past him but were you the same?
Robin knew you inside and out, he knew how much you loved him, but he didn't know how just much you hated Dick Grayson. Was that hate enough to overpower your love for him?
You stared at him in surprise for only a minute, but it felt like hours to him before you closed your eyes and leaned your head back, "Wow."
"This-This doesn't change anything right?" He began, feeling the lump in his throat grow three sizes larger when you turned to him with an expression that was not a reassuring smile like he had wanted.
"Are you kidding? This changes everything! Barbara is never going to let us hear the end of this. And my friends? Oh, they've hated you ever since that incident during our group presentations." You exclaimed, fingers twitching, and Dick knew it was because you wanted to flail your arms around but couldn't because of the IV.
He bit his lip. You weren't outright rejecting him or anything, but he needed to hear you say it and he needed to hear it as soon as possible.
"No—(Y/N), does this change anything between us?"
You paused, stopping in the middle of your tangent to give him a confused glance, "Between us? No. Why would it?"
And just like that, the tension in his muscles evaporated away and he relaxed, approaching to your side like he wanted to and interlacing your fingers, "I love you."
You finally smiled at him, leaning to kiss his lips, "I love you more, even though you said I was gross and that no one would ever want to date me."
"Well, to be fair you said you'd hope I never did, so I guess we're even."
***
"Hey, stranger." It really didn't make sense that after almost a year of dating, your boyfriend's voice still managed to send shivers down your spine. You closed your locker shut before turning to meet the beautiful blue eyes that you grew to love.
It was scary how quickly you completely rewired your brain into loving every single feature belonging to Dick Grayson.
"Hi, Grayson."
His eyes dipped to your lips for a second, mentally scolding himself for turning to putty the second you said his last name. It was weird how the last time you both were in school together, he thought that the sound of his name coming from your mouth was like nails on a chalkboard.
Now, he felt like he had been blessed just by being in your presence.
"I have all the assignments and notes that you missed the past week." You had been ordered bed rest and some physiotherapy to regain complete mobility after being unconscious for a couple of days. Under your boyfriend's watchful care, he had dutifully nursed you back to health.
You smiled when he handed you the stack of papers even though the heft of it made you want to cry. All this work from just a week? All the AP classes you had been taking in order to compete with your own boyfriend had come back to bite you in the ass.
"Thank you. Can I come over later so you can help me out with it?"
It was really a formality that you were asking because you both knew he was obviously going to say yes. But you figured you'd do the polite thing and ask the first time. After today though his room would practically be yours, just as your room would now be his personal hideout.
"Of course, baby. I've been dying to introduce you to Alfred. We can go back to mine together after school."
You nodded, starting when you heard the bell, "I have Physics." You bemoaned, it being the only class Dick didn't take with you. He had opted for a language instead, which you were beginning to think was more useful than whatever you learnt anyway.
He gave you a smile, eyes twinkling when he slanted his lips over yours in a soft kiss and you had to pull away quickly before you forgot just where you were.
His disappointed pout was all too quick to disappear when you reminded him that you'd be going home with him that day, "I'll see you later."
The two of you parted ways with delirious smiles, feeling too much like you were wafting on cloud nine, completely unbeknownst to the small crowd of people that watching your entire interaction with wide eyes.
Barbara, who was stood at the centre of the flock, smirked, and held out her hand, "Pay up bitches."
***
Bonus:
"I'm surprised you didn't figure out her identity earlier, Dick. Aren't you supposed to be a great detective?" Wally teased and your boyfriend rolled his eyes.
"It's not that I couldn't find out, I just didn't try."
"How come?"
He spared you a glance and shrugged, "She asked me not to."
"I don't remember you offering me the same consideration." Artemis sniped but he knew it was all in good nature.
"You aren't nearly as pretty." He replied coolly, making you blush.
***
Forever Taglist:
@simonsbluee
@notslaybabes
@superheroesaremyjam113263
@writers-whirlwind
DC Taglist:
@emmacata
@p--e--a--c--h--e--s
@sometimeseverythingsucks
@sokkas-honour
@unstable1902
@lostgirlheart
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@uxavity
@battlenix
@capricorn-stark
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@dumbbitchgalore
@fuckingjinkies
@some-lovely-day
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skyahri · 6 months
Text
So..? |Kakashi Hatake X Civilian! Reader| HC
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Summary: Kakashi finally musters up the courage to ask you out.
Warnings: Nothing, really. Pretty tame. Civilian reader.
- - - - -
You worked in the hospital. It was nothing spectacular; the shifts are long, it can get a bit over crowded, and sometimes you don't even have time for a meal, but it's honest work.
You were decent with medical ninjutsu. You could heal cuts and bruises, but anything more was outside your skill set.
You have your fair share of regulars, Kakashi being one of them.
Sometimes, he's in and out - just there for a few stitches or a mandatory check-up after a long mission. Sometimes it's longer, like after his battle with Itachi or the Kazekage's retrieval.
You scold him every time for being reckless.
"Kakashi, you know what happens when you overuse your sharingan. Can't you at least try to be a bit more careful?"
He always dismisses you, promising that everything he does it put of 100% necessity.
You roll your eyes and fix him up regardless.
Its a lucky thing that you always end up taking care of him, or at least you think it is.
He's actually using his social pull to end up wherever you are. Kakashi Hatake, the copy cat ninja, is very well known and has earned more favors than he could ever cash in.
He remembers the first time he met you - it was several years ago, in this very hospital. He'd been injured during one of his Anbu missions and needed some critical care.
The hospital was swamped that day, and you were new. He could tell by how anxious you were. It was lucky that you had ended up with him, someone who wasn't picky about his treatment and wasn't bothered by nerves.
There was something about you, though he wasn't sure what. Yes, you're pretty, but he's seen lots of pretty girls. Maybe it was the confidence you emitted despite the cluster of the environment. Maybe it was the gentle way you touched him as yo wrapped his arm or the feeling of your chakra on his skin.
Either way, it stuck with him, and all the feelings he felt have only intensified over time.
Which is where we are now.
Eventually, he sees you outside of the hospital. A rare sight, really. He's perfectly healthy, between missions, and not being dragged around by his students for once.
Your last shift of the week just ended. You're carrying home your weekly grocery haul when he spots you and basically demands to carry some most of your bags.
He tries to chat you up, along about work, hobbies... potential partners?
"So what have you been doing outside of work, hm? Interesting... I see. And you do all of this by yourself, or..?"
You laugh, knowing he's fishing for specific information. He already knows you pretty well after seeing him so often at work. Maybe he forgot that fact in his stupor.
However, slick Kakashi thinks he's been all this time, knock it down by 60%.
You may not be a shinobi like him, but you're very well aware of people.
"No, Kakashi, I don't have a boyfriend."
He plays it off. Shoving his hands in his pockets and pretends not to be borderline giddy at this newfound information.
Once you reach your apartment, you have no problem allowing him entry so he can set your groceries down on your counter.
He looks around while you put things away. Everything embodied you perfectly. The plants, the color scheme, the decor. It was perfect.
Once you're finished, he becomes nervous again.
"So..."
"So?" You ask expectantly.
"Would you wanna meet up with me sometime? As a thank you for all you've done for me over the years, of course."
"Of course," you mock him lightly, crinkling your nose.
"I'd love to."
He let's out an animated breath.
"I'll pick you up tonight at 6? We can head to..."
The plans are set. Now, it's just a matter of patience before this long-awaited date.
Although you've been looking forward to this day for so many years, the anxiety is still there, and you're wondering how it'll go and if he likes you.
Little did you know he's having the same thoughts.
What if you didn't like him? What if he just damaged your friendship (could it even be called that considering how confined they had been to the hospital?) and now he's lost someone else because he's stupid?
Only time will tell, so may as well just shove down the nerves and prepare for what could be the beginning of something great.
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hidden-poet · 8 months
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Commander Snow
Summary; Under the advice of Dr Gaul Coriolanus returns back to district 12 where without blinding light of lucy-grey he could see you.
Warnings; dead dove to do not eat, stalking, unrequited love, breeding kink, violence, possessive!Snow, unco/dubco, sexual content, she/her pronouns.
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Chapter 2
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The next day you move yourself and your mother to a friends house. Where you both sleep on the floor in the living room. It costs you half a panem a night but it was still a better living arrangement then laying awake until the yearly hours of the morning wondering if a peacekeeper would knock down your door.
You keep your head down. Going straight from work to the house. It seemed to pay off. Your neighbor had reported that the parcels had stopped after a peacekeeper had noticed it was the community and not the intended taking it.
You don't hear from Commander Snow. There was no summons or arrest order made for you.
It leads you to relax bit. He had probably moved on to another after realizing that you would not sell yourself for a pardon and a weekly box of food. You knew many others would, and you wished them the best of luck with their endeavor with Commander Snow. But your nature pushed away such opportunities. You couldn't even tell him you weren't interested to his face. Fear only played a part in that decision.
It was late now as you walked home from you job. Later then usual as your boss had offered you overtime to clean and organize the cold room. You gladly accepted with the added cost of your stay at your friends house.
Four shiny coins had been placed in your hand before you had even done the job. You couldn't believe she was willing to pay this much for such a simple job. You wondered if it was repayment for all your years of hard work for her.
You were never late, always made sure your jobs were done to a standard of excellence, you even stayed back to help train the new people.
All your hard work was finally being rewarded. You made sure to leave the space the best it had ever been.
The money was at least a month's work.
You hadn't written to your brother in so long due to the cost of the paper and shipping fees but now with your extra cash you could reach out.
You make the journey to the stationary store, getting in just before close and go around the back of the building. Using the flat wall as a writing pad.
Your brother had gone to district 8 after influenza swept through killing half their work force. They had asked for volunteers to relocate. Many young men offered. The pay was higher in district 8 as the Capital had a great need for the fabrics and manufacture that it produced. Your brother was picked being effortlessly strong and healthy.
The day he left was the worst day of your life. You miss him terribly, only communicating through letters which were expensive and took ages to find its way to its destination.
You tell him how much you miss him, and worry about him over at district 8. That your mother is well, and prays for him every night before bed. You thank him for the money he sends when he can. Telling him of your own good fortune with the coins, and how he was to spend his half on a cold drink if he could get one, and a night out on the town.
Your pen stills as your thoughts turn to Commander Snow. Should you tell your brother of the strange officer. He was always protective. Would he try and come back to district 12 for you. would they even let him.
You decide not to. It would only worry him, and in his worry he would make rash decisions. You would not be responisble for his harm.
Instead you reiterate how much you miss him, and warn him to write back soon.
You drop two of the coins and the pencil back into the envelope, sealing it shut and stuffing it in your pocket. It was too late to ship it off. You would have to wait until tomorrow.
You felt scared walking back to the house with the money as if people could sense it in your pocket.
You remind yourself your being silly as you walk through the road dividing the streets. There was no one else out at this time. Only you, and you were nearly to the safety of the house.
There was no street lamps in the districts. The only light coming from the houses you pass. You try to remain in the light but sway slightly into the shadows as you reach the steps of your accommodation.
You scream as you feel hands upon your skin. One going around your mouth to quiet you and the other pulling you back against the house.
"Sh sh, Its just me. It's just me. You're safe".
You feel your kness tremble as you pin the voice to a face. Commander snow stood before you, using his body to press you up against the side of the house. His chest pushed against your shoulders, his leg pushed between yours and melded to the wall behind. He kept his left hand on your right shoulder to keep you still and only removed his right hand from your mouth when you went mute. Who would you scream for that could do anything any way.
With his body pressed against yours in such a tight manner, he had free use of his hands.
You weren't getting out from under him, even you realized that. You looked for guns or knife on him but found nothing in the light the moon and surrounding houses offered. He didn't wear his official Capital issued Commander uniform. Instead he dressed down in high waisted black pants, and a long sleeved cotton shirt. He still wore his dog tags and army boots.
'So this is were you've been hiding, hm?". He ran his knuckles along your cheek bone, and you shuddered from his touch.
"No, Sir".
"yes, Sir. I left boxes at your house like a fool".
You could tell he was upset with you.
"It's fine. You'll be back there tomorrow to take the food in. Did you go through my first box i sent?"
You nod your head and a smile appears on his lips.
'What did you have first?". He pushes back a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
"My mother had a apple" You torn it from her after her first bite.
"i asked what you had first". He pressed his body harder against you.
"We haven't touched the box otherwise, Sir. We can give it back to you. We can compensate for the veggies and the fru-"
He was not happy with your answer, cutting you off.
"Ungrateful brat".
"Sir, we never asked you for it and we don't have money to pay for it"
"You're welcome" his pointer runs along your nose, "I can't have my partner in crime going hungry. Now can I".
You shiver from the familiar way of speaking. You did not want the Commander of district 12 to have a nic-name for you.
"I ought to go inside. They are waiting for me".
You try and move away, thinking he would release you. His cover would be blown if they take to looking for you.
He does not, choosing to place his hands around your neck. Not showcasing his great strength but resting in warning. His thumbs press gently into your throat.
"i think they can wait a few more minutes. Don't you?".
You nod as much as his hold would allow you to. You felt as if he was all around you. With his body wedging you flat against the wall, you felt as if you were sharing the same breath.
"you're ok" He repeats, "i am not going to hurt you".
"Perhaps it would put me at ease if you stepped back a bit, sir"
He shakes his head, "You have a habit of running away".
"You have a habit of appearing out of no where".
You can see him grin under the dim light. That was intentional, He always wanted you to feel as if he was always watching and could turn up at any moment.
"Can you make me some more of those oat bars?"
"Ye-yes" you stutter.
"Do you have the ingredients?"
"yes" you repeat.
"Good. Bring them to my office the day after next".
"Yes, Sir. Can I go now?"
"I haven't seen you for nearly two weeks and you're so quick to run away?"
"'Sir, please I Have to get inside". away from you.
"Why were you so late getting home?" he ignored your plea completely.
His thumbs circles on your throat.
"I had to work back" you admit.
"And then?". He already knew that wasn't the full story so you confess you brought some paper and took some time to write a letter.
"A letter?" he asks, "A letter to who?".
"My brother. He went to district 8 for work".
You gasp as he releases you. Giving you a least two feet of space.
"Lets see it" he demands.
With shaky hands you pull the crumpled letter from your pocket. He grabs it before you could hold it out to him.
He rips it open, and pours the two silver coins into his hand, tossing them around.
"My coins".
"My coins" you state, taking a step forward, "For my over time"
Surely he wouldn't find it appealing to take your coins from you. He was commander Snow he didn't need any money in district 12. He could just take. There would be no one to stop him.
"And where do you think your boss got the coins to give you for your over time. Where's the rest of them".
It was a set up. Not hard work and luck that gave you a few extra coins. But an odd infatuation from the officer.
You pull the rest from your pocket showing them to him.
He scoffs, "i gave her eight , she gives you four. I expected her to take two, but four. Does your district know no limits to their greed".
He mentally leaves his sweet girl out of the picture. She had received four and was willingly giving 2 away. He was sure you would also give your mother one and spend the rest wisely. Tigress always brought him new clothes with her overtime. Using old curtains to fashion her own.
You hold out your hand for him to take the coins back.
Much like his tigress, You were giving what you had to him.
"If I had known" you start.
"The point was that you didn't know". He snaps.
You still hold out your hand for him to retrieve the coins.
"Keep them. You earnt them".
You pocket the change. You had really earnt them.
He balls your brothers coins in his fist and moves out more into the light to read your letter. You were so glad you decided to leave Commander Snow out of it.
he reads fast, flipping the page and going on to the next in a matter of seconds.
He nods satisfied that it was in fact a letter to your brother and not a lost lover, before he folds the letter back up and places the coins back in the envelop.
"I'll mail it for you" he offers but you protest at the thought.
'I'd prefer to do it, Commander".
"You don't trust me? After everything we've been through, and the secrets we share".
"No-I-" you were thankful he interrupted you again, unsure of your own sentence.
"We're friends, right?"
You nod having the feeling it wasn't truly a question.
"Friends do things for each other. Let me to this for you".
"It's too big of an ask" you try again. You reach for the letter but he pulls it back.
"You could", a step forward had you going back, " do something for me to ease your conscious".
He moves towards you again until you were once again pressed up against the wall.
"What?" you breathe.
His hand cups your face, and his body braces itself against yours before his lushes lips capture yours.
The kiss is deep and hard, Barely moving off before coming back for more. His tongue licks at the bottom of your lip, sucking gently when you don't let him in.
He repositions his head to a tilt, keeping his top lip pressed against your bottom as he does. He comes back with full force, your head knocking softly against the wall from the force.
"that" another small kiss presses against your lips. A quick peck to your sealed lips.
You turn your head in case of another one, and his hand on the side of your face follows.
He digs into his pocket, pulling out two coins and pressing them into your hand.
"Take the coins. Buy yourself a new dress"
"I don't want-"
He sh's you.
"take the coins, buy the dress and stop avoiding me".
"Thursday" you remind him, the day after next.
"Yes, Thursday. Don't forget. Tomorrow if you can".
The house across the track opens its door and an middle aged women appears throwing a bucket of dirty water over the terrace. Coriolanus shrinks into the shadows until she return back inside.
"Go inside" He demands, stepping back. You rush away from him not looking back as you run into the house. But you feel his stare upon your back.
The next morning two peacekeepers knocked on the door to drive you and your mother back to your house, leaving you with a large basket of food.
'What have you done?" Your mother asks you behind closed doors.
"I am not sure" you reply honestly.
-----------
You make the worst batch of oat meal bars you've ever made and deliver them to the compound.
You were almost sure you were going to be shot as you approached the gate but they must have been expecting you, opening the gate as you neared.
You had tried to just give the basket to the Peacekeeper but he demanded that you go inside with him. You follow him through the large estate.
Peacekeepers old and new were everywhere. Some without their uniform giving them an almost human look. They eyed you as you passed.
They thinned as you reached a stunning white building made of stone. Everything else was structured out of metal so you knew that the building only housed the most important people.
It wasn't any less busy as people ran about you with stacks of paper. It was loud inside the walls. People talking to each other as they walked, some yelling down a telephone. None of them even glance at you or the peacekeeper you followed.
He leads you to a large oak door, twice the length of you, and he knocks three times.
"Come in" you hear Commander Snow call.
The peacekeeper opens the door but makes no attempt to enter the threshold. You do, and the door is immediately closed behind you.
"You couldn't make it yesterday?" he asked crossing his desk to join you in the center. You hold your basket like a protective shield.
It kept you distanced as places his hands on your shoulders.
'i had to go to work" You explain and you push the basket to his chest, attempting to rid his hands from you.
He does take the basket with a small hmm before returning to his desk. He places the basket down and digs for a oat bar. As he bites down you could tell he could taste your lack of effort.
Still he eats it without complaint as he pours coffee from a tray into two mugs. He motions for you to sit down but you were itching to go.
"I should go" you state.
"Sit" his mouth was full with the oat bar.
You do sit but don't drink the coffee offered. You notice that he had better looking biscuits on his tray.
He leans against the desk next to you and takes another big bite of the bar. His eyes wonder down to you where you sat anxious twisting your ring.
"What's that?" he points with the oat bar down.
It was only a small metal ring. Thin pieces of twisted metal in a circle. So small most people never even noticed it.
Your brother had given it to you on your nineteenth birthday as a congratulations for not being selected for the hunger games.
He obviously knew it was a ring, and you obviously knew he was really asking who gave you that.
"A gift from my brother before he left". You stop twisting it to draw attention off it but it was too late.
He finished his oat bar, dusting his hands clean from the crumbs before standing up to full height.
"Give it to me".
You shake your head no. It was the last thing you had of him.
Still Coriolanus held his hand out expecting.
"It's very dear to me, Sir".
"I'll take very good care of it".
You look up at him with pleading eyes, his softens but he doesn't relent.
"You can give it to me or I can take it", he warns.
You almost cry as you twist it off your pointer finger and place it in his palm.
He flips it around his pinky finger, and wedges both hands between his knees.
"There's sugar there if you want it".
You stand up angry.
"I don't want it. I have to get to work".
You attempt to storm off but he catches you with a firm hold on your upper arm and a hand wrapped around the side of your face.
Under his strong fingers you remember your anger could get you killed.
"Don't be upset with me" he pleads.
"I ain't upset" you remark although you eyes brim with tears, "They dock my pay half if i am even a minute late. I have to go".
"I'll walk you to the gate". You wait for him to take the lead.
You find the walk back less busy as people avoid the Commanding officer. He twists the ring in the same anxious manner that you did. He wanted to say something. Offer something in return but could think of nothing that would compensate.
It's too late by the time the journey ends. He pulls open the gate and the Peacekeepers facing forward don't turn.
You could feel his hand on your back and it shoots you forward. He remains at the gate watching you flea from him.
No one asks you why you're crying at work. So long as you are doing your tasks they don't care.
----------
On Saturdays you have a stall in the markets selling your baked goods. Your friend helps you when she has the day off for a portion of the profits.
Today it was sunny. Hot but with a nice cool breeze. People flooded through the stalls. Your cakes sold great, even better with the fresher ingredients from Coriolanus box.
You could sell the oat bars with chocolate on top for nearly double. Chocolate was rare in the districts. Most people had never even tasted it before.
Coriolanus was doing his rounds letting a younger officer with great potential shadow him for the day. He freezes when he saw you.
He had walked these markets two or three times before, Had you always been there? He must have walked past you and your stall and never even noticed. Fate has a mysterious way of working. He was now certain that it pushed you into the compound due to his ignorance while on duty.
You looked beautiful in a white top and tight blue jeans. You had your hair covered in a bandana again and wore your normal work boots.
He put his helmet back on in case you looked over and saw him. He was sure you were still upset about Thursday, and he didn't want to spoil your good mood.
The young solider followed suit. Hiding from sight without question. He might survive district 12.
You laughed with your friend who sat on a milk crate to eat her apple. At her feet lay a brown sack filled food. She quickly closed it to avoid being robbed but Coriolanus had already seen it.
He tightened his hold on his rifle. No doubt it had come from you. from Coriolanus to be more correct. He agreed to feed you, even if that meant feeding your mother too, but he did not agree to feed your friends.
Your next box would be smaller.
A school group blocks his view of you as they pass, and Coriolanus refocus to his surroundings. He sees a young boy, no more then 6, dilly dallying behind the rest of the group. He goes up to each stall looking at what they had to offer before slowly making his way to his class.
He was going to be left behind at his current rate.
"you see the young boy in the red shirt?'' Coriolanus asks his soilder.
"Yes, Sir". The boy flexes his shoulders as if the child poses a threat.
''When he reaches that cake stand, I want you to push him over".
He pats the boys shoulder urging him to go. He looked confused but followed command going over to a nearby stall to yours and pretending to look at something.
The young boy skips two stalls to come directly over to yours. His eyes go round at the sight of the chocolate oat bar.
Your smile gets wipped off as the boy is knocked to the ground. You glare instead at the Peacekeeper who made a lap back to Coriolanus.
The boy screams and crys at his scrapped knee. Coriolanus ducks behind a large pillar as you round your table to pick him up.
You were talking to him, soothing him as you rocked side to side. He reacted positively wrapping his little arms around your neck.
Coriolanus bangs his head against the piler. That was the reaction he was hopping for. To see you in a nurturing state as you consoled the boy.
"is that what you wanted sir?" his solider stood in front of him, and he pushes the boy out of the way. He had blocked the view of you carrying the child and setting him on your table.
You reach behind the crying boy and offer him a chocolate oat bar. His crying almost immediately stops.
"yes. Good. Go back to base and have the rest of the afternoon off solider".
The solider is ecstatic at the news, and with a "thank you, sir" he was pushing himself back through the crowd.
You were talking but he wasn't sure if it was to the boy or to your friend. He wished he knew what you were saying.
You had taken off your bandana and wet it with you water bottle to wipe the blood off his knee.
It was so natural for you, he thought, to care for others. Once you got comfortable enough, how would you care for him, he wondered.
Would you baby him as you babied this child if he got hurt.
he shuffles back realsing that he had itched forwarrd as you picked up the child again. You gave him another bar to eat. He was certain you were talking to your friend this time, looking squarely at her before you took off after the school.
The primary school was located at top of a large hill. Away from the noise and violence of the district.
The young boy clung to you as you walked. His chocolate hands getting over your white top as he licked the icing off.
Coriolanus followed you out of the markets. he waits until you were away from the crowd before picking up his pace to you.
The young boy catches Coriolanus' eye and begins to struggle in your grip, pointing at him. The big scary peacekeeper was coming your way.
You tighten your hold and spin to face him.
You looked shocked to see him.
"Commander Snow, sir"
A formal greeting to someone who had you pinned to the side of a wall four night ago.
He smiles at you. Trying to distract you so he can move closer to you.
"I saw" he says, "and I've come to help you return the lost boy"
"I'll be fine on my own, sir"
"I insist. You never know who lurking around. My job to keep you safe".
Coriolanus was not speaking from his station as commander.
"Do you want me to carry him?" Coriolanus offered looking at the large hill.
"No, no" the boy begs, but Coriolanus reaches for him anyway.
You turn away, curling your body around the child.
"No. It's ok. I've got him".
Coriolanus was sure you were going to struggle getting up the hill with the extra weight. If the boy was only a sack of potatoes, he would have just yanked it from your grip. But you looked so good with a child on your hip.
You could always swap half way if you wanted.
"It's ok, darlin'" you rub soothing circles on the boys back, making Coriolanus jealous, "we're gonna get you back to class".
We're. we. us. The partners in crime.
He bucks his chest out with confidence.
You begin your journey up the hill, and Coriolanus was right. Not even half way up and you had to shift the child around to your front to distribute the weight. Coriolanus goes to take him but you reject his offer once again.
"He's alright" you insist.
The child rests his head on your chest, his eyes staring at Coriolanus as if to say ha ha.
He was about to suggest you perhaps just let the boy walk, but you beat him through the silence.
"Are you following me?"
"i was showing a new candidate the patrol routes. I just happened to have seen you with the boy, and wanted to help you get him back to class as per my duty".
Close enough to the truth.
"And lydia's? how did you know i was staying there?"
His unclips his helmet and attaches it to his rifle.
"I asked around". Threated your neighbors.
You fall into silence again and this time it was Coriolanus who brecks it,
"Are you going to share everything I give you with others?"
You scoff at his words, ''saw me with the child, hey?'".
He grabs your arm to turn you causing the boy to wail again.
'You might find I am a lot more closed fisted if I can't be certain it's actually going to you".
You tear free and bounce the boy in your arms.
"shhh baby. It's all ok'' You smooth his hair back, cradling him to you.
You step away from the scary peacekeeper as you and the boy talk. You soon compliance him back to a settled temperament, and Coriolanus steps back over to you.
He doesn't mention the sharing again. He would wait for the journey back. He found himself childishly annoyed when your attention went all to the small boy.
You huff as the boy gets heavier in your arms but Coriolanus doesn't offer to take him again. He'll let you struggle.
"Why do you feed people you don't know?" the boy sucks on the remainder of the oat bar, slopper getting all over your shoulder.
You don't answer. He calks it up to the physical labor.
"The prisoners, the boy" he pushes. He leaves himself out of the list. You both feed each other because you innately knew each other. You were partners in crime and partners in crime look after one another.
"Who's to say I don't know em".
"I assure you after I was done if the prisoners knew you they would have given you up. They didn't know".
He half regretted his sentence seeing you tense up. But he was sure he left a impression of a strong, powerful man. You just needed to get over your guilt first to see it.
"We look after each other in District 12. It may not seem like it to you but these are good people here".
You looked after people here, he wasn't so sure that they had the same loyalty back.
He had seen enough flips and crumbles to know that for the right price they would feed you to him.
He wanted to tell you this. To set you straight, and show that he was the only one looking out for you. But he knew the information would upset you and he had already done that once this week. He would save it for another time.
You struggle up the hill, puffing out gratefully as the small school house came into view. A large tree marked the boundary, upholding a wire fence around the small metal huts.
You turn to Coriolanus, "I think the gun might scare them".
He take his large rifle off his shoulder and leans it against the tree. Your face still read of your displeasure.
"it might just be best if i go on with him".
He looks to you and then back to the school. He could still see you if he stayed underneath the shade of the tree.
'' I'll wait for you here then''. The gun is slung over his shoulder and he takes its place against the tree.
The boy watches Coriolanus over your shoulder as you walk with him.
You call out to the teacher frantically recounting her children.
"hey, I think you're missing one!". You place the small boy on the ground and wave goodbye to him as he runs over to his teacher, complaints of his sore knee spilling from his mouth.
Turning back to Coriolanus, your smile disappears and your pace that was slow with the child picked up to a near sprint.
He straightened up as you came near but you walked straight past him without looking.
"Do you want children?" He matches your pace
"No" you spat, "never".
Maybe if you met the right man, he wanted to say. A man who could protect them.
But he swallowed the words. This situation was new to him too. He didn't want to make promises he would later not plan to keep.
"You should reconsider" he says instead, "I think you would make a good mother".
You were naturally a very warm and loving person. While others walked around the crying boy you picked him up and nurtured him.
Coriolanus remembered a time in the war he had gone out alone in search of food. He found only hungry dogs, who chased him through the ruined city.
"Help!" he cried, looking back at the fast approaching beasts.
His foot catches a large pothole in the ground and he is thrown upon his face. Sure he was going to get eaten he calls out for Tigress but it is a large man that appears at name.
He bangs the lids of trash cans together and shouts angrily at the dogs, scaring them off.
A savior, he thought. But dropping the lids and turning to Coriolanus, the man didn't cradle the boy to his chest as you had but reached for his axe under his coat and swung it down.
He had managed to roll out of its path and get to his feet just in time.
The man was slower than the dogs, overcome with starvation. Coriolanus could disappear between the buildings. He remembered as he hid in rubble while waiting for the man to pass, how sacred he was.
It was one of the core memories that haunted him to this day.
oh how he wished that someone like you had found him instead, but he wasn't sure people could be like that anymore. He wasn't sure how through all the misery and pain you could remain so soft. He wanted to sink his teeth into your flesh and have a taste.
"What would be the point. Loving someone only to watch them get killed in the hunger games".
You feet come down hard, channeling the anger you couldn't express.
"The chances are small. There are over 300 families in district 12".
He just wanted to hear you say you would like children. The picture of you big and round while rocking a boy the same age as the lost child seemed to be getting hazer as you resisted.
"You should ask Milly May, or Harrison Flint if their chances seemed small".
This years tributes to the Hunger Games. They both died the first day. Milly May the first hour.
"Motherhood looks good on you. Natural" he tries again.
You stop in your tracks, turning to face him.
“I can’t give you what you want. No matter how much you try and sweet talk me or buy me. It won’t be given”.
It didn't matter, was the first thought that appeared in his head.
"I don't want anything from you. In fact, it's been me that's been giving. Food. Protection. All to have it spat back in my face".
Your eyes float down the hill. The beginning of Town was still a little while away.
"I understand, sir. Perhaps your efforts would be appreciated more else where".
It was a gentle let down but resulted in a harsh strike.
His hand came down upon your cheek, almost knocking you to the ground. You stumble off balance, looking up at him.
The anger on his face morphs into disappointment. Before he could reach out for you, you take off running down the hill.
You might be beaten for your rejection.
You feel his hand brush against your shoulder as he tries to grab you but you avoid it.
Pushing yourself down the hill as fast as you could go. But it wasn't fast enough.
He tackles you to the ground, crawling on top of you and securing both your wrists with one hand.
"I am sorry, I am sorry" he holds the side of the face he stuck, smoothing it over, "I shouldn't have done that".
You trash under him, screaming.
His soft hand retracts from your face to take off the rifle from his shoulder, he sets it down next to you.
His dog tags had made their way from under his shirt and now dangle over your face. You can see he had added your ring to the chain.
''Let me see" his hand returns to your jaw, forcing it to the ground on the other side so he could inspect your cheek, "only a little bruise".
He lets your head go back to its normal position, and you're left looking in his eyes.
"What I do, I do for you. Okay? not your friends, and not for anyone else. Do you understand?".
His hand reaches up going to your palm and enclosing your curled hand with his. He held himself up with his hold on your wrists, and with the other now pressed over yours, all his weight bore down on you.
The weight upon your hands hurt.
"Yes, Sir".
"If I find out you've been sharing again. I'll hang them for thievery".
You give two little nods.
"I understand, Sir. It won't happen again. Please, let me get up".
He hops off you. choosing to crouch at your feet as you sit up. He notices your shoe lace untied and begins to pull the laces tight and loop the knot back up.
You sit there stunned as he picks up his gun and rises. Offering you a hand you take it and he pulls you up.
The journey down the hill begins again. His hand reaches out to keep you in pace with him when he feels you propelling down.
You reach the bottom in a comfortable silence and stop at the foot of the hill.
"We can't be seen going back together. It will put a target on my back".
You were right. The district scum might harm you if they thought it would get back at Coriolanus.
He nods in understanding.
"You go ahead. I'll follow". He gestures forward.
You go quickly back to your stall. He tries to keep focus on you but your short stature gets momentarily lost in the crowd.
You reach your stall and go straight back behind it. Your friend is standing next to you talking in a worried hush tone when Coriolanus reaches the table.
You don't look at him as he takes one of the chocolate oat bars and continues walking back to the compound.
It tasted dry in his mouth, he didn't like that you were still baking for others, you were going to have to shut down your stall.
-----------
Coriolanus stood upon the platform at the hanging tree, having it checked for bombs twice.
The gate was swung open for the public, and every available peacekeeper was present and armed.
The convicted all formed a line. Being hung one by one for dramatic effect. The families of the dead being forced to stand at the front of the audience so they could grab their sons/brothers/ cousins shoes as Peacekeepers dropped him and restrung the rope.
Coriolanus forbid traditional burial for traitors of the country. Families would have to settle for burying the shoes of their deceased love one while their bodies are cremated and sent to Dr Gaul's office as decoration.
"Phineas Hightower. Sentenced to death for consorting with rebels and making plans of an attack. Disturbing the peace of the district".
Coriolanus read into a microphone that fed through the town.
A young man approaches. 30 at the most. He didn't look scared as the others did. No tears or pleas of innocence. Coriolanus almost respected him.
The man kicks off his shoes as he steps upon the box, and a loud cry of grief overtook the space. The mockingjays echoed it out.
Peacekeepers were on the old women, presumably his mother, fast. Focus must be kept on the fate of the traitor, and not on the cries of mothers.
The old women reaches for her sons shoes but is shoved before she could reach them. She pleas with the officers taking her to the back, but they are like statues as they manhandle her away.
Coriolanus could now see tears spring in the eyes of the young man. A befitting end for a capital traitor.
He gives the order to continue the show. They ready the man for execution.
More commotion is heard as the crowd readjusts to let someone through. He looks to see you making your way through the crowd to the front.
Had you come to see him. Watch him as he took life. Does the power fill your belly with excitement to know that the same hands that caressed you now commanded death of another.
You wanted to make yourself known to him. To let him know he had a friend in the crowd. You had dressed pretty for him back in your clothes you wore for your vaccination. A nod to your secret bond.
You left the bandana off, letting your loose hair fall around your shoulders.
But no. You don't come to his side of the stage. You rush to the soon to be dead man.
You grab the shoes, just as the box is kicked. You squeeze your eyes shut and bring them to your chest.
Coriolanus steps back to the guards behind him.
He nods in your direction, "Take that girl to my study. Make sure she doesn't leave".
Coriolanus hears the body drop, and the Guard move to catch you.
You hadn't moved since the rope stretched. You stood there eyes closed and shoes to your chest until you felt hands upon you telling you to move.
You look back at Coriolanus on the stage to see him looking down at you.
The rage in your eyes matches his.
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Coriolanus makes a trip to the bathroom to wash his face and make himself more presentable. He takes off his official hat, and unbuttons the top of his jacket.
You had been waiting for him for nearly an hour and a half. Having to wait for the rest of the hangings to finish, the crowd to go home, the peacekeepers to sweep the area and the final report from all leaders to Coriolanus before he dismisses them for the night.
He untucks his chain from his neck and holds your ring in his hand.
You were still his girl. Just unshaped still.
Placing the hat under his arm he makes his way to you in his study. The Peacekeeper stood guard at the door.
"You can leave" he tells the man, before entering.
He sees you shoot up from the chair as he closes the door behind him.
You had been crying. He could see the tear lines still wet on your face.
"What were you doing at the hanging?". He storms over to you. He was giving you an opportunity to satisfy him.
I was there to see you but the women upset me. He wanted you to say.
"Leave me alone. i have to get these shoes home" You try and push past him but he shoves you down into the chair. Resting his weight upon the arms of it as he leaves over you.
"I've told you once, associating with rebels will get you hanged".
"his mother won't have a body to burry. She will have his shoes".
It was the first time you hadn't called him Sir in a conversation.
He wanted to slap you until you did.
But his hands were busy taking the shoes from you.
"Now she won't have shoes either. She can burry a memory".
You push the chair back to escape him. He could tell you wanted to hit him. Your fists balled and your stance was ready to swing.
"Come here" he demanded. It gnawed at him that you were upset with him. He was only doing his job.
"Give me the shoes" you demanded.
He drops the shoes to the ground.
"come and get them" he taunts.
You seem hesitant but you do, bending down at his feet to retrieve the shoes.
He grabs your jaw once your knee height and you struggle against him.
"Tell me I am taking good care of you" He pushes down as you try and get up. "Tell me how handsome I am".
You weren't truly mad at him, only overcome with emotion, he assured himself. But he too felt heavy after hanging days.
he had wanted to rest in your arms, similar to the boy with the scraped knee. But you offered him no comfort.
This time you do strike him across the face. He shoves you away and you scramble far, taking one shoe with you.
He begins to laugh, would every comfort be denied to him. No, not you.
"Don't you ever touch me again. You stay away from me from now on".
He was going to make you regret ever saying those words to him. You were going to give him every drop of kindness you held even if he had to wring it from your body. he deserved it after everything he had been through. You were his reward for it all, and by god he was going to have it.
But not now. Now he opened the door for your freedom, watching you run out.
He would make sure you came crawling back. Telling him you wanted his great care again. Telling him how handsome he was.
He would have you all. How much pain you wanted to go through first was entirely up to you.
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girlofthesunxoxo · 2 months
Text
porn star dancing | james wilson
synopsis: y/n is a neuro-oncologist in wilson’s department and whenever she gets out of work, she works at a strip club. tonight is masquerade night which works in her favor when she sees her boss and his friend.
note: i have no medical knowledge or dancing knowledge so im flying blind here 😭 so if anything seems a little off, its because of that LMAO. also y/n is in her mid to late twenties while james is in his mid to late thirties.
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y/n was just finishing up with a patient, making sure they were feeling fine after their surgery when she got a call from her friend, sheila. she excused herself from the room and went into a random hallway.
“oh hey, sheila ! whats up ?”
“hey, y/n ! im sorry to ask but can you take over my shift today ? my mom has come down with a really bad cold and i have to take care of her.” her apologetic tone evident in her voice.
“oooh um yeah im already finishing up here so i’ll be on my way over there in about thirty minutes !”
“oh my gosh, thank you thank you thank yoooou. i owe you big time !”
y/n lightly chuckled, “okay okay, ill call you later ! i need to talk to my boss really quickly.”
“okay bye !! also in case you forgot, tonight’s theme is masquerade.”
“yes yes, i remember the theme, i think i saw my costume there a few days ago. okay we’ll talk later, bye bye !”
she hung up before making her way towards her dr. wilson’s office. she knocked on the door and went inside after hearing a quiet, “come in.” she stood in front of his desk with her hands clasped in front of her, nervous about what she was about to ask.
“hello dr. l/n, what do you need ?” he asked with a polite smile on his face.
“hi dr. wilson, um i was wondering if i could leave a bit early today, i am already finished with our brain surgery patient and i think i have all my clinic hours done for this week !” she nervously rambled which james took notice to.
he quietly laughed and shook his head, “yes you can but if i may ask, what is the reason you need to leave early for ? you never leave early. are you feeling okay ?” his casual expression slightly changing to a more concerned look.
“oh no im feeling alright !” she knew she couldnt tell him the truth. how many people have gone to their very attractive boss and told them they couldnt work because they had to go to their second job which is a strip club. not a lot, she assumed.
“i just have to babysit m-my sister’s kids, shes not feeling the best !” her lie came out with little struggle.
“oh well i hope she is feeling better soon but yes you can go for the rest of the night.”
“okay thank you so much, dr. wilson !”
she quickly turned and walked out of the room with fast beating heart and blushed cheeks. there were times she hated how she had a slight crush on her boss. this was one of those times and it didnt help that his friend, dr. house was standing outside his door staring at her with a smirk. she tried to move past him but he put his cane in front of her stomach which stopped her movements.
“what do you need, dr. house ?” she tried to ask politely but she was in a little of a rush.
“yeah, why are you coming out of wilson’s office looking like you just finished riding him into oblivion ? oh im sure you would like that, right ?” his words made her blush as the thought of her on top of james has been a recurring dream of hers.
“u-um well im - im sorry, im in a r-rush to be-“ she was interrupted by the door opening and james’s annoyed voice filling her ears.
“house ! let her leave, please.” he rolled his eyes while shoving his cane away from y/n’s stomach. she smiled thankfully while rushing to the front doors to leave seeing as she had a few minutes before her shift started. as she was leaving, she heard dr. house’s fading words, “you know she has a-“ she didnt know what else he was going to say.
she drove to the club and quickly greeted all the other dancers while getting into her clothes which was black fishnets with very short red shorts that looked like underwear with little sparkly fringe that flowed every time she moved and a matching bra with the same fringe. (think of the girls from “but its better if you do” music video 😉).
she picked up some random black high heels that were covered in black glitter and she heard the crowd cheering as it was almost time for the dancers to come out .
she hurriedly did her makeup which was just more eyeliner and eyeshadow than she used for her day job.
sheila let her know on the drive that she was going to be in the spotlight which meant she could pick the song and be right in the center of the stage.
y/n was very anxious, she had only been in the center stage maybe two times despite being told by everyone that she was awesome but having that many eyes on her was very nervewrecking. that says a lot considering she literally works as a doctor and has to perform surgeries sometimes.
she picked the song “porn star dancing” considering she practiced at home days prior, just in case somebody needed her to take on their shift.
the microphone crackled before a loud voice came on, “lets give a biiiig round of applause for our dancers !” two girls gave y/n a “goodluck” before heading out to their poles which were on either side of the center pole.
“and let us let our main dancer for the night know how much we looove her, welcome to the stage, mrs. vibraaaant vixen !”
y/n quickly put on her red, glittering mask with tall feathers which only covered her eyes. she let out a big breath to calm her nerves and strutted out the curtain, the song she chose began playing in the background.
kelly wont kiss my friend kassandra
jessica wont play ball
y/n slowly strutted to the pole and grabbed it with one hand as she circled it making sure to sway her hips.
mandy wont share her friend, miranda
doesnt anybody live at all
amanda wont leave me empty handed
got her number from a bathroom stall
she squatted behind the pole before slowly getting up with her ass up first and slowly moving her body up. the cheers made her feel confident and her nervousness slowly went away.
brandy just got way too much baggage
and that shit just gets old (hey)
she rolled her hips in a circle while her hands wandered up her body then behind her neck to flip her hair to the side.
but i got a girl who can put on a show
the dollar decides how far you can go with her
she wraps those hands around that pole
her movements followed the lyrics as she wrapped her hands around the pole then crouched down while rolling her hips to every beat.
she licks those lips and off we go
she takes it off nice and slow cause thats porn star dancing (hey)
she slowly pick herself up with the pole and pushing her chest flush against it before she circled it and stopped right in front of it, giving the audience a full view of her ass. she turned around and started looking at the crowd while she circled her hips.
she dont play nice, she makes me beg
and she drops that dress around her legs
and im sitting right by the stage for this porn star dancing
as she looked over the crowd of men and the occasional woman, she spotted one familiar face and her heart almost stopped. it was her boss, dr. james wilson. at her strip club. with dr. house who was grinning as if he won the lottery. they were both cheering before dr. house muttered something in james’s ear before he turned wide eyed towards her on the pole.
she quickly circled the pole and stopped behind it keeping her head down slightly, her hands roaming her body and rolling her hips as she turned around, her ass on display as she crouched while rolling her hips. she felt mortified knowing her boss was more than likely watching her ass.
your body’s lighting up the room
now i want a naughty girl like you
theres nothing hotter than that
she turned around on her knees and flipped her hair to the side, her eyes catching james’s eyes. he mouthed “y/n ?!” she averted her eyes as she got up, ass first.
stacy’s gonna save herself for marriage but thats just not my style
shes got a pair thats nice to stare at
but i want girls gone wild (hey)
groping her boobs (😭) at that one lyric, she felt her body go hot, the thought finally registered that her boss/little crush was seeing her half naked body while she should be helping people. shame gnawed at her as she kept her head slightly down.
but i know a place where theres always a show
the dollar decides how far you can go with her
she wraps those hands around that pole
she picked herself up onto the pole and swung herself around it a few times. the cheers got even louder and people tossed some dollars on the stage.
she licks those lips and off we go
she takes it off nice and slow cause thats porn star dancing (hey)
she dont play nice, she makes me beg
she drops that dress around her legs
the pole and the swinging was making her muscles ache but she kept on going. her back flushed against the front of the pole, she picked herself up until her legs wrapped around the pole and her upper body was spinning around. she took her hands off the pole, waved and blew kisses at the crowd which caused them to cheer harder.
she could see james clapping with his mouth open and smiling while house was cheering louder than anybody there, she smiled at the sight.
and im sitting right by the stage for this porn star dancing (hey)
your body’s lighting up the room
i want a naughty girl like you
lets throw a party just for two
you know those normal girls wont do
as she slowly descended down the pole, she put her hands on the floor and unwrapped her legs from it so she can kick her legs away and landed upright like a half cartwheel.
the part of the song where no lyrics are on is her favorite because she can do some random dance on the pole and the crowd will go wild. she swings herself on the pole, holding it with her ankles before climbing and wrapping her inner leg/knee around the pole while her other leg is standing on the pole. still spinning, she straightens her leg so it is poking outwards.
then she bends both legs, one on the outside of the pole and one inside holding her and takes her hands off to let go of the pole so she can clasp them behind her while spinning so shes spinning sideways.
she can hear people cheering and whooping and some just plain yelling.
she wraps those hands around that pole
she licks those lips and off we go
and she takes it off nice and slow
cause thats porn star dancing (hey)
as the spinning slows down, she grabbed the pole and unwrapped her legs while positioning herself upright again. now that shes upright, she tries to gauge everyone’s reactions, some of the dancers not performing were clapping and yelling as were a lot of the men. some had their mouths slightly open and others were just cheering.
but only one had her interested, james had a full blush on his cheeks and he stood there in disbelief while house tapped his shoulder to telling him that shes looking at him. he waves and she let one hand let go to wave back.
she dont play nice, she makes me beg
she drops that dress around her legs
and im sitting right by the stage
for this porn star dancing (hey)
she hopped down from the pole and rolled her hips like she did when the song first started. she was completely out of breath while her body was covered in a light sheen of sweat. her muscles ached when she walked back towards the curtain but not before turning around and looking james straight in the eye and blew a kiss while the crowd started cheering and whooping.
she passed the curtains and let out a deep breath. her whole body ached and she knew she would be a little sore the next day but it was worth it. seeing everybody’s expressions, especially james’s expression made the whole thing worth it.
all the girls came up to her and hugged her while telling her how much they loved the dance and how beautiful she did. all the compliments made her blush as she changed into her regular clothes which just consisted of jeans and a black long sleeve.
y/n made her way out the dressing room and managed to avoid seeing her boss and house. she still felt shame and embarrassment that her own boss, the person who signs her paychecks, saw her half naked body sensually dancing on a pole. she’s had nightmares about that. she was already half way out the front door before a cane stopped her from walking.
she only closed her eyes and sighed, “what do you need, dr. house ?”
“woah how did you know that was me ?!” his childlike glee was a little annoying to y/n, any other day she wouldve indulged in his jokes but her entire body ached and she just wanted to sleep.
“hm i dont know, maybe the fact that i saw you earli-“
he interrupted, “while you were sexy dancing and getting all the guys turned on, i swear i saw all of them with tents in their pants !” he rolled his eyes and lets out a little grunt, “ugh men.”
she sarcastically smiled, “ugh men indeed, including the one that is wasting my precious time right now.”
“what, are you taking one of those greasy little guys home ? you know im sure you’ll have a lot more fun with me.” his smirk is enough to tell her that he’s joking and he reached out to touch her arm before the front door creaked open and another hand gripped his wrist.
“house.” wilson’s slightly irritated voice cuts in.
house let out a big gasp before whipping his head around to face her, “daddy caught us ! i wonder how he’s going to punish us.”
y/n didnt let her eyes travel to james, still embarrassed by what he saw. she chuckled at house’s words before she stood on her tippy toes and leaned close to house’s face, “hm i dont think i’ll have fun with you, i actually like it when a man is below me and you seem like the type that cant handle that.” she leaned back down and pushed his cane away from her, walking back to her car while hearing james’s laugh.
she waved her hand and said, “goodnight guys, hope to see you here another day !” she heard house say “i hope so too !” she shook her head and laughed.
“wait, y/n !” james shouted while jogging towards her.
oh god, this is where she gets fired or he suspends her. she braced herself for bad news and turned to face her boss.
james had a wide smile, “y/n, you were incredible !”
she blushed and looked at her feet which were starting to hurt from standing and dancing all day.
“thank you, dr. wilson.”
“james, call me james.”
“okay well thank you, james !” she said softly.
he still had a soft smile on his face, “why didnt you tell me you worked here ?”
“i thought it wasnt appropriate, imagine telling your boss that you work at a strip club. how embarrassing ! i mean, im embarrassed right now !” she laughed.
he laughed with her, “i guess that’s true but i wouldve preferred that over finding out from house and losing twenty bucks.”
“you lost twenty bucks to house ?”
“he said that you worked at a club and i didnt believe him so we bet on it. imagine my surprise when i see my prettiest employee dancing on stage.” he rolled his eyes as he glanced at y/n, noticing her biting her lip to contain a smile and her blushed cheeks.
“well i guess i owe you twenty bucks, huh ?” she teased. his eyes creased as he chuckled and rubbed a hand over his face.
“well i wouldnt object.”
“okay how about i get us both muffins in the morning ! my treat, obviously.” she mused while tapping a finger to her chin in thought.
he grinned at her as they stopped in front of her car, “i would love that.”
“i would love to continue this conversation but i need to sleep because my body is killing me.” she tiredly groaned. he lightly smiled and waited for her to get into her car before saying goodnight and walking back to the strip club.
“also !” she yelled from her car window.
he turned around.
“tell house that i meant what i said. him and his leg wont be able to handle me on top.” she winked and rolled up her window, finally making her way home.
his eyes twinkled as he laughed, “i will keep that in mind.” he muttered with a flushed face.
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blingblong55 · 11 months
Text
Dear Father -John Price x F!Reader x Simon 'Ghost' Riley NSFW
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A/N: If you're super religions and/or catholic...look away
Based on a request:
I am too sinning on this app so Ik that it isn't part of the list but what about a priest au? price and ghost having a threesome with a nun or sister (yk what I mean) its all innocent at first she helps around during mass and since both men cant break celibacy they try and stop the 'sinful' thoughts of sister/nun y/n one time they saw her curves and from then on after talking w the other they decided to corner her and fuck her ____ F!Reader, smut, MDNI, 18+, dub-con, hierophilia, threesome, priest!Price, priest!Ghost, spit roast, some degrading, nun/sister!reader unprotected!sex, oral!sex, P-in-V, priest au, nun/sister au ____
A/N: personally, I love the idea of getting fucked by a priest...especially by these two. Also inspired by many of the band Ghost songs
You walked the halls of the holy temple, rosemary in hand as you made your way to mass. "Sister," Father John greeted. "Hello Father, having a great evening?" You and him walk the hall together. "It has been a delightful one, sister. And how is your evening this fine day?" The Bible by his hand. "Oh mine has been pleasant," you smile a little. "Have you spoken with Father Simon?" You nod, "I have, he seems excited for this evening, I heard we will have a larger group this holy day." You comment. As you walk inside you see the children help set up the mantle on the altar, the bible and wine carefully set up as well. You sit in one of the chairs by the altar, Father Simon comes out to make sure the temple looks well for when the townspeople arrive. "Ah..sister R/N, how are you today?" the holy man spoke. "I'm fine father, and yourself?"
"Couldn't be happier, now remember sister, you must make sure not to let that little head of yours get lost when I give the sermon." He pats your head and makes his merry way upstairs where he changes into his attire. You walk towards the door, helping the townspeople in, all in their best attire for this day. The sign of the cross is all done by them as they walk into the temple. The rosemary in hand as mass began. You sat neatly by the altar, praying and listening to Simon. He gave a couple of jokes to the people attending, much of which people laughed. It was communion when you were in line and his finger touched your lip, and you opened it. "The body of Christ," the way he said it, so alluring to the thoughts you once had as a young woman of the church. "Amen," you respond and eat the bread. You go back to your seat and pray.
After mass, all the people left, the cleaning crew and townspeople, it was just Father John and Simon with you. You stayed on your knees, praying for all the people that attended. In the candle-lit room, the two priests joining you. Kneeling beside you and letting you stay between them. They held your hand, praying with you. Once it was over, they returned to their room. "Amen," you whisper and try and forget about the sinful thoughts both priests gave you. You walked back to your room until you heard some moans. It had to be some of the people you let sleep for shelter but as you were about to knock on the door of Father Price, Simon walked into the hallway. "Sister?" his voice like a whisper. "Father, I think I heard a noise-"
"Go to bed, R/N, we'll discuss this in the morning, good night," he walked back into his room and as you walked past Father John's room, the moans continued. Could he be sick? No, that can't be, he is a very healthy man. Once in your room, you prayed and got into your nightgown. By morning, you walked the halls again and made sure the kitchen and offices were clean and ready for the day. It was a Monday, meaning a few people would show up to confess. "Father John will do confessionals today," you informed. People of all backgrounds nodded in delight, ready to have their sins forgiven.
By the evening, you were approached by Simon. "Are you confessing today?" an innocent question with ulterior motives. "Yes, father." A simple and short response, one that began the entire evening. As the doors to the public closed and you walked into the confessional booth, you sat down. "What are your sins, child," Johns's voice so soft. A confession that was meant to stay in between the walls. "I've been having unholy thoughts," your voice so small and full of embarrassment. "About what or who, child?" He knew who this was, and an excited smirk appeared on his face. "About the priests in this church, I don't know how it got to this point, I'm sorry, Father." You look down, the rosemary on your hands, playing with the beads out of nerves. He knew what the evening had planned for the three of them.
"On your knees child, pray to be forgiven." Words that would later be repeated during the night. You did so, prayed and prayed, hoping for forgiveness. To break celibacy, something the church penalised their holy men. The oath to be devoted to the man up above was now broken to worship the temptress that roamed the halls, dressed as a holy woman. A succubus that knew she was their weakness, clothed in holy clothes, to be undressed and fucked like the whore she is and wants to be.
You in Simon's ear, crying and confessing to him too. "I'm sorry Father, I know this is wrong, I'm sorry I didn't mean to think of this." He shakes his head, a lying motion to be proven soon. John walks in, holy water in a bowl in his hand, rosemary on the other. He and Simon look at each other, their plan to work. "Get on your knees and beg for forgiveness," Simon demands. Your teary eyes are now filled with confusion but you don't question this, you get on your knees, and begin to pray until he stops you. Thumb under your chin, making you look up. "Not like that, sister, open your mouth, be a good girl," John says. You open your mouth, and a sense of newfound arousal finds its way to you. If the heavens spoke, this would be the beginning of a long overdue sin. Two priests, three sinners and a saint, all in one room, ready to corrupt the one thing that began to crack under the very same roof they spoke holy words. Both men spit in your mouth, "Swallow," Simon commands this time and you nod. Their zippers undone, their hair pulled, their cocks ready to be pleased by the mouth of a saint.
Your mouth and body are about to become their temple. John is the first to begin to stroke his cock in front of your face. Simon followed right after. Worshipping the very thing they had sworn to never do, a woman and the sexual desire they so have needed. Let me have you, the devils spoke in a whisper. Your mouth being teased by John's tip, all red and swollen, letting the innocent nun look up with such a good girl stare, it melted their hearts. "Suck on it," he tells you, your lips wrapped around his thick shaft. His hand is on your hair, pushing your head further in. You gag and cry, trying to hold in all the noise the room could not listen to. Simon can't take it any longer. "Pray for us, R/N," the young priest says. A prayer that will send you three over the edge on a bed made for one holy man. Simon pulled you away from John, placing you on the bed on all fours, Simon massaging your ass before taking your clothes off. The a need to have this, already leaving your panties soaked. It was true what they said, to worship is to be devoted and in this moment, they are devoted to your body and you to theirs.
You mewl when you feel Simon slap your now bare ass, your shirt ripped from you as John teases your face with kisses. Your tits slapped before he cups your face with aggression, "You're nothing but a fucking slut, you know that, R/N?" Before you could even respond he slaps your face and smirks. Simon's thick and veiny cock, blessed your walls, and as your cunt was already dripping from just the thought of getting fucked he chuckled. "Our little nun here seems to be eager for this," he tells John. The moans you let out as he hungrily fucked himself into you, were too sinful for such holy men to listen to. It was food in ways no one could understand. John's cock in your mouth, your throat trying its best to accommodate a man his size. Their trousers on the floor, your body the temple for such noises and sins. Your cunt spread open for Simon's size.
You begin to let out whimpers, something so small that you get punished for your pleasure is not of importance in this Your body, like it was possessed by fools gold, making these hungry men fight for every part of it. Their breathing is heavy as your body gets used over and over again. "Just like that, fucking take it," Simon stuttered as he has found pleasure he was forbidden to feel. John touched your body only when the holy water was on his hands as if he were to burn if he didn't touch the water before touching the devil herself. "You're nothing but a slut, aren't you, hm…say it…say it you bitch," John slapped your face and pulled his cock out to let you breathe. Between heavy panting, you responded, "I'm…a slut, Father." Your voice is hoarse, barely above a loud whisper.
"That's fucking right," he forces your mouth open and spits on it again. His cock back in your mouth that thins at his size. Simon can't help but slap your ass, wanting to mark it as his. If this was how you received forgiveness, then the more sins you must commit. The devil grins this night, for he has made this night turn from holy to his own little game. To taunt all believers and worshippers. It was a night of ritual, one to commence when all-powerful and mythical mysteries went to roam the earth. Some call it adultery, some call it fun. You played with black magic, getting daddied by men who were never dad. Giving you things you never once had. Simon's cock twitching, begging for release. You kept swallowing the pre-cum that leaked from Johns cock. John's breathing escapes in short ones, not being able to contain his orgasm for any longer. You know he is close, his cock twitches and you can feel how it is pulsating in your mouth.
He groans, head thrown back as he fills your mouth with his cum. His movements were desperate, your face flushed as he held you in place. Simon let his cock sink into your greedy body, his hands holding you as in his head, he too asked for forgivenes. Your walls clench around Simon, your breathing getting heavier. And although it was never intended, he knew that with each thrust he was getting you closer to heaven as well. John pulls out, forces you to swallow his cum and he grins when your mascara stained face looks up at him as his mate continues to fuck you. "You like that, don't you?" he whispers and kisses you as he bends. His face cupping yours. Wet kisses and groans filled the room. No longer sacred by definition.
Simon filled you with his sticky seed, his groans turned to moans when he felt your cunt pulsating, your walls milking him for all he is worth. It was perfect, he turned you into his personal fleshlight. You let out whimpers as he pulls out, your cunt abused and leaking the seed of a holy man. What a great use for a whore that desguises herself as a nun. You clit sensitive, the men laid you on your back and between them. A secret amongst three people, to be repeated but never spoken of. A sin that will carry for as long as time. The holy water John brought it, used to clean your sweat, tears and the cum that displayed on your body. The rosemary, used to hang from your neck as they kissed it all night long. Two priests, three sinners and one former saint, a corruption well done.
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Tags: @ghostslillady @mothcelestial @greatstormcat @pippylaune @liyanahelena @anonymuslydumb @kit-kats06 @quaritchscupquake @lisa-takeshi @ash-tarte @arithestrawberry @agent-oaklahoma @murarl @downbadformaskedmen @iamnotfinedaddy @woncloudie @lilahbunny
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Note
hi ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡
i want to say that i really like your work and would like to try to make a request with douma, where s/o is very random
for example, they just hang out and then s/o gives out a random strange fact like: "did you know that dolphins can fall in love very much and build relationships the same way as people?" or she can run up, pet him and run away, etc
feel free to ignore it! hope you having a wonderful day, love you
and forgive me for my english, it's quite crooked
Hello \(≧▽≦.)/ Thank you so much for saying that anon, that truly makes me happy to hear, also don't worry, your request has been heard loud and clear! And I love it!
I hope I've done your request justice (^ω^.) and please know that your always welcome back to browse and request something from me again.
Your English is great by the way,so don't worry!
Douma/Doma with an S/O who does random things - [Headcannons]:
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There where many things that Douma/Doma found boring, in life and with entertainment, but you weren't boring - you were anything but boring
Each day you did (or said) something that tickled his funny bone
Each day you had a new fact, hobby, skill/talent and object that you had to share with him that genuinely had his brain working overtime at how you knew or did that
Douma/Doma finally found something to look forward too each day and it was you and your randomness
Your randomness was cute - adorable even - and it definitely saved you from scenario's that would have ended up with your death (and a rather pissed off and sad spouse) or at least hurt
Douma/Doma enjoys your random fact of the day - that you randomly drop on him at a random point in the day
When you first started your random fact dropping you'd started with facts about the human body during a tea ceremony
"Did you know that the average tongue is about three inches long" You said simply, taking a sip of your tea before continuing "and that the human body can shed about 40 pounds of skin?" - its safe to say that Douma/Doma was so dumbfounded by those facts he over-poured his tea with a rather star-struck expression
Although he does quite like the cute random facts that you tell him too - "Did you know that trees can make friends and talk to each other? Isn't that sweet"
You also had the habit of coming up to him randomly - at different points in the day - and inspecting his hands and tapping three times on his wrist (directly on where his pulse point would be) before leaving without a word
And bopping his nose
And sometimes knocking gently on his forehead
Also you like tracing shapes through his clothes on his back, arms and legs - making him guess the shapes and words you form with your nails
You also liked stealing his fans to use them for something random and/or weird - he once found you using them to cut fruit...
Once you baked a 10 tier cake and brought it in mid sermon with his followers with plates and water
Food was another thing that you made randomly, you baked and cooked new and weird things and brought in for him to try - as well as his followers....
When he sleeps in, it's always a 60/40 that you'll have done something to his hair - You like to fiddle with and decorate his hair and you have once perfectly styled his hair into a plaited mohawk
You've painted his nails - "Oh paint them pink next time love" He'd whined once into your neck "I want them to match the colour of your love~" + "Oh! Like the colour of my organs too?" followed by a blank stare from Douma/Doma
As you both where about to sleep you turned to him, perfect smile on your face and sleep hazing your eyes and said, "I wanna eat you! Just take a chunk cause your too perfect and beautiful for this world" before promptly falling asleep
He has found you trying to do cartwheels down the hall
You've always got something up your sleeve and it honestly brings Douma/Doma so much joy to live through each day, finding out what you had in store
.....you've made a finger puppet version of him before as well as a doll and you have used both as advisors - "And what do you think Wackus Bonkus?" "Kill him" "Oh! You Naughty Wackus Bonkus!"
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cyberkitty1 · 1 year
Text
pt 2/2 of the crybaby reader x earth42 Miles Morales
MAJOR MAJOR spoilers!! read with caution.
i said tomorrow night but I worked my butt off to get it done today!!
Aaron makes his way to Miles and room not even bothering to knock, I mean why would he? He just watched his nephew make his own girlfriend who would do anything for him cry. He was beyond furious.
“So now we are just going around making people cry?” Miles smirks at him “man I am literally the prowler? all i make people do is cry and beg for their life” he says almost laughing.
Aaron sighs pinching the bridge of his nose.” you are not supposed to let your job interfere with your normal life, you know that. Now you’re chasing your girl, the girl your supposed to love away? are you serious?”
Miles looks at him annoyed “ why wouls you care all she ever does is cry, shes happy she cries, shes mad she cries, shes sad she cries, man even when shes bored she cries. its annoying” he says holding his face in his hands.
Aaron walks to the bed and sits next to him. He’s never been put in this situation so he doesn’t know what to say. “ you’re dad was a lot better doing this than i ever was.” Miles visibly stiffens, this was the first time he’s brought up his dad since his funeral.
“ Miles I know you have been through a lot, more then i ever will but that doesn’t give you a reason to act that way towards her, she only wants whats best for you and she loves you with everything shes got. I would kill for a person like that to be in my life. I know you reacted like this because you feel you don’t have anyone to talk to but i’m always here man you know this.”
He wrapped an arm around his shoulder.” So don’t be taken your anger out on your girl she just loves you ok?” Miles sighs realizing, he was way to harsh in you you shouldn’t have been ignoring you and now he feels like a fool.
“ Yea, ill talk to her tomorrow” Aaron smiles, “ good I don’t need the only person who can get you to open up gone, now do i?” he says laughing a bit.
* Next Morning *
You didnt get a wink of sleep that night you where thinking about all the things you could have done to upset him that much. You werent mad just confused, confused as to why he would react that way. Of course you will still love him but this still hurt.
You were lost in thought when you realize someone texted you, it was Miles? You wasted no time to open it.
miles. can you come over later today?
you. yea
miles. dress comfortable
you were nervous, was he breaking up with you? You had no idea what to expect with how you guys left everything yesterday there was many directions this could go.
Hours later ( im lazy )
You got ready and made your way over to his place. Knocking on the door he answered “hola cariño ven conmigo” he helped you in with a warm smile taking your hand. Shutting the door behind you he led you into his bedroom sitting you down on his bed. He stood looking at you kind of nervous? he started:
“Voy a decir esto en español para que todo salga bien. Te amo mucho y siento mucho haberte tratado de una manera que nunca te mereces. Lamento haberte hecho llorar y haberte hecho sentir que hiciste algo mal. Todo lo que haces es amarme y tratarme bien, pero yo te traté como si no me importara. Y por eso lo siento mucho y espero que lo encuentres en tu corazón para perdonarme.”
(I'm going to say this in Spanish so that everything goes well. I love you very much and I am so sorry that I treated you in a way that you never deserve. I'm sorry I made you cry and made you feel like you did something wrong. All you do is love me and treat me right, but I treated you like I didn't care. And for that I am very sorry and I hope that you find it in your heart to forgive me.)
You waited and listened to him through and through and when he was done you spoke. “ Miles I will forever love you, you know that. I know that you are going through something but why didn’t you tell me? why don’t you talk to me? why wont you let me in?” you said holding his hands.
“No quería que pensaras menos en mí, que me consideraras débil.” You look at him sympathetically “ Miles I would never, never ever think of you as weak ok? Whenever you need me I will be there with you, I love you miles so much.” and with that, you were crying.
(“I didn't want you to think less of me, to consider me weak.”)
“mi princesa por favor no llores odio cuando lloras” he said wiping your tears away “ I know and i’m sorry that i’m always crying about everything i know it annoys you” you say sniffling. He feeling you pulling at his heart strings, feeling the worse he has felt since his father’s passing.
("My princess please don't cry I hate when you cry"’)
“ahora me tienes a punto de llorar mami, te quiero mucho y me arrepiento de haberte dicho que te encontré una llorona. Nunca debí haberte dicho eso, eres mi todo, ¿lo sabías? Debería disculparme contigo, lamento haberte tratado de esa manera, ¿me perdonarías?” He said with tears in his eyes.
(“Now you have me about to cry mommy, I love you very much and I regret having told you that I found you a crybaby. I never should have told you that, you are my everything, you know that? I should apologize to you, I'm sorry I treated you that way, would you forgive me?")
You held his face looking into his eyes with so much adoration. “ Miles I will forever love you, I forgive you, I will forgive you ten times over.” You said resting your head on his. After a few minutes he wipes his tears saying “ I forgot I wanted you to watch a movie with me if you forgave me.” You smile at him giving him a kiss.
“ Thank you Miles,i appreciate it all.” he sighs “ Ma, stop saying stuff like that I need to be saying sorry to you” he says looking you in your eyes.
And with that he sits on his bed back against the headboard with you tucked into his side, eating snacks and watching your favorite movies.
( this or this )
He suddenly turns to you and says “te amo mas que la cantidad de estrellas en el cielo” he says looking into your eyes. You turn to him resting your hand ok his face, hearing your voice that sounds like honey.
("I love you more than the number of stars in the sky")
“yo tambien te amo mi principe”
( "I love you too my prince")
Part 3 of the earth 42 Miles spoiling you will be done as soon as I can 🙏🏾
A/n: overlook the fact that i spelt honey as hunny 😔 ( its changed now)
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tiredfox64 · 5 months
Note
Part three of Go for the Kill? But its based ok the ending where reason is with all three of the brothers? She soon gets knocked up and the threee fight over whose it is? >:3
The Soil was Tilled Enough
Prior notes: I knew somebody would ask for this. Had a That’s so Raven moment when I was writing that last part.
Pairings: Lin Kuei Bros x Afab reader
Warnings ‼️: You’re gonna have a stroke with my reasoning.
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You are faced with a light pink stick in your hands. You were growing tired and sick just days before which worried the brothers a lot. The last thing they want is for their vicious woman to grow horribly ill. Oh but this is no illness. This is the miracle of life.
Yeah this is a strange situation. Truly a spectacle that has some people, or more like someone, disappointed. Liu Kang ain’t too happy that his paid assassin would be out of commission for at least a year. What he also doesn’t like is hearing that the brothers are fighting over who is the father. The yelling is really getting annoying.
“It can’t possibly be your child! I slept with her first!” Bi-Han yelled directly in Tomas’ face.
“We all slept with her first! You are just jealous that the baby is possibly mine!” Tomas yelled right back.
The only one staying calm was Kuai Liang. He stayed right next to you, rubbing your belly as you contemplated the same thing. Who is the father?
Alright, so you put too much faith into Plan B. Guess it wasn’t made to handle loads upon loads of baby-making liquid from men who probably never allowed themselves to feel relief in quite a while. Plus the fact that they love you a lot made the chances of you getting pregnant much higher. I think they were aiming for that goal but I’m not a mind reader.
“What are we gonna do? Are we ready enough to handle having a baby and raising it?” You questioned, concerned about way too many things.
“Of course can handle it. The baby will be in safe hands. Even if the baby is not mine I promise to take care of them as if they were my own.” Kuai Liang made that promise to you.
Kuai Liang really loves you and just wants the best for you. He doesn’t want you to worry too much especially now that’s you are pregnant. His commitment to you made you feel a little better, knowing he won’t be mad about whose baby it is. The other two…yeah that’s gonna take some time.
At this point Bi-Han had Tomas in a headlock which made Tomas start punching Bi-Han’s arms in defense. Kuai Liang ran in to split the two apart.
“Enough of this! This fighting won’t solve anything.” He yelled at them both.
“I do not understand why you are not threatened by the fact that Tomas might have impregnated her. What good will that baby do coming from a man like him?” Bi-Han was being harsh again which made Tomas punch him.
“It does not matter. She is pregnant and she wants to keep it. We must support her no matter what.”
Kuai Liang was right and all the brothers had to agree with his statement. Though Bi-Han was still being as stubborn as ever. If he just keeps the mindset that it’s his baby in there he will be fine.
“Well, do you know how far along you are?” Tomas asked.
“Considering the last time we did it was a couple of weeks ago and I’m getting sick, it might be four to six weeks.”
Oof, if it’s six it can only get worse when it comes to the symptoms. Get ready to start taking bathroom breaks and getting sick from smells.
“It will still be a few weeks before we can get a paternity test done.” You added on.
“We should do that. Settle this debate early on whose child this is.” Bi-Han was on board with doing a paternity test even though he didn’t know you can test that while still pregnant. It’s that old mindset don’t worry.
“I want to the know the gender first. I wanna see if we are having a baby boy or a baby girl.” Tomas gushed at the idea.
“No you don’t, Tomas! We will not wait to find out the gender first.”
“Yes we will, brother. It will teach you to have some patience. It will also test if you still love her enough to take care of her while she is going through this.”
Kuai Liang was shutting Bi-Han down at every opportunity. How dare his little brother accuse him of not loving you. Fine, he’ll wait. They’ll all wait. And as that goes on they will start preparing things for you like a nursery. They gonna spoil the hell out of you.
A woman who is pregnant is a strong woman indeed. They will make sure to take good care of you. They will do their parts as the possible fathers.
══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══
Finally! Week thirteen! You can expect your results to be one hundred percent accurate when it comes to the gender. Now here’s the interesting part—
“WHAT!” You, Tomas, Bi-Han, and Kuai Liang all yelled at the doctor in shock.
…I didn’t get to finish. Let me speak up. Damn…
As I was saying the interesting part was that as time went on you noticed your belly was getting quite big. It was a little too early but you didn’t think it was anything much. This was your first time being pregnant so you thought it was normal.
Not necessarily.
“T-twins? We are having twins? And they are all ours?” Tomas was questioning the doctor on how accurate it was.
The ultrasounds did show two little babies. Two little nuggets growing inside you. And they are both boys, congratudolences!
“It’s called Heteropaternal superfecundation. It’s incredibly rare but it can happen. Especially to someone with three partners.” That doctor was throwing shade at you. She was just jealous.
“So one of those boys is definitely mine,” Tomas was all smiles, “But what about the other one?”
Yeah, what about the other one? Still got the other two. They are blood related so this might be harder.
If it’s Kuai Liang’s this might not end well for him since Bi-Han was staring him down with a death glare. Luckily the doctor had something to say about that.
“That’s the thing, we can’t tell. Because they are related there is some difficulties. So as far as any of you know, they are both the father of that other little boy.”
Kuai Liang is content with that. He is just happy to start a family and have a child with you. Bi-Han…ah he gives up. There is no point in being upset about this. There is nothing anyone can do. He’ll be happy to have a son of his own that he can train and possibly be the next grandmaster to the Lin Kuei.
All the brothers are happy to be fathers to a wonderful set of twins, dizygotic twins to be exact. Tomas is already imagining having the twins play together and teaching them to take care of one another. Kuai Liang is imagining caring for them both and teaching them to be good brother. Bi-Han already preparing in his mind a plan to train his son. That’s his responsibility.
The tension between the brothers dissipated. There was no reason to fight and stress you out even more. Looks like they better get more things ready for the babies. The nursery has to be big enough to accommodate two of them.
You have a good support system going on here. I hope you are happy with your multiple lovers and your set of twins.
Oh don’t tell me, you want to know who the father actually is. Alright so the clinic didn’t actually have the advanced technology to figure out who the father was when it came to Kuai Liang and Bi-Han. They were only certain on Tomas.
The true father is…I don’t know. What? Did you think I knew all? No! Even I don’t know. And do you even wanna know? Just let be happy that they are happy. Now get some rest, mama. You have a long journey ahead of you and it’s called motherhood.
After notes: Why do I keep doing twins? I’m scaring myself. Here’s a fact about me I have a high chance of having twins if I were to get pregnant. Yeah, I know, crazy. Please tell me I haven’t manifested this for myself my period still hasn’t come oh gosh 😭. I would have done triplets for this fic but nature doesn’t work like that. Well since I’m done I get to eat. Adiós! (Pls make my period show up y’all)
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ode2rin · 1 year
Text
your tequila lips is my idea of luxury
pairing. mikage reo x gn!reader
genre. fluff & university/college rom :D 
warnings/content. 4.1k+ wc | soccer team captain!reo (giggles) | mentions of alcohol, drinking, and drunken state | public kissing (don’t ask) | minimal proofread | me and my poor attempt of banter
in which: last night left you with three hazy memories — a dare, a kiss, and the name reo mikage
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If college has managed to drill one thing into your head, it’s the gospel of abstaining from weekday drinking. After all, who in their right mind willingly marches to class with a pounding headache? Certainly not you.
But if there’s also one thing college didn't prepare you for, that is ignoring that one advice it drilled into you, and the golden rule of never, ever going against your own wisdom. 
If it did, then maybe you wouldn’t find yourself seated at the table of your kitchen dorm, your elbows resting heavily on its surface and your hands cradling your throbbing head, with your fingers pressed against your temples in a feeble attempt to alleviate the pounding sensation that is making you feel like it’s your last day on earth.
And to add a splash of more chaos to the mix, you feel like your headache intensified by tenfold at the absurdity of what your roommate just told you.
“I did fucking what now?”
“You kissed Reo at the party last night! Reo freaking Mikage!”
Yup, it’s definitely your last day on earth.
“ —and we squealed so loud! We never thought you had it in you to pull shit like that!” 
Well, you didn’t either.
“Hold on, talk slowly! I kissed him?!” 
Furrowing your brows, you attempt to process the bombshell your roommate just dropped on you. 
“Don’t tell me you forgot what happened last night!”
To say that your roommate did a poor job of filling you in on what atrocity happened last night is an understatement. The only thing you managed to register from the weirdly sequenced story were two things: kiss and Reo. 
And from there, the memories of last night came rushing back to you. 
Fucking hell.
You are damned, no doubt. Of all people, it had to be Reo Mikage. Are you even allowed to say that name so casually, even in your mind? That name drips gold and glory in every letter. He’s probably the richest guy on campus, the most famous (for sure), and on top of that, he’s the captain of the goddamn soccer team. Talk about a boring and plain college life he’s living. 
And to kiss that said man in a party for a dare? You’re doomed. You’re done for. You did the worst thing imaginable. 
You should’ve known better that nothing good comes out of college parties and dumb drinking games.
You made a lot of questionable decisions in your life, that you admit. But this one probably takes the top spot.
And it all started innocently enough – with a dare. 
The kind of dare that only seems like a great idea after a few too many shots. You had been the reigning champion of beer pong for as long as you could remember, and your friends decided it was high time to knock you down a peg. The stakes were set: a dare for a dare, and you were handed the ultimatum. Win the game or face the consequences.
But as fate would have it, your well-practiced skills crumbled under the pressure, and you found yourself facing the ultimate punishment—eight shots of tequila, back-to-back, in quick succession. 
Under typical circumstances, you could easily handle that quantity, but regular situations don't account for having a crucial presentation the following day. Eight shots? It's a nightmare, considering you've reached your limit.
And so, you found yourself stumbling through the crowd with only one goal in mind: redemption.
Or maybe it was the tequila that whispered that goal into your ear, urging you to prove yourself. It was hard to tell. 
And in that hazy state, your eyes had locked onto a figure that seemed to glow amidst the dim lights of the party. Reo Mikage, a name that resonated through campus like a melody, stood there, his presence magnetic and his smile dangerously alluring.
Without much thought, you approached the poseur table he was located at.
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“Are you single?” you asked him the second you got close enough for him to hear. Fortunately, he wasn't surrounded by his usual crowd.
Now, what happened to ‘hello’? To ‘are you having fun?’ That question is too straightforward for a conversation starter, isn't it? 
“Yeah? Yes, I mean.” Reo replied, confusion evident in his tone.
“Okay good, listen.” Stepping closer, you caught him off guard, and he instinctively took a step back. His movement prompted a questioning look from you, tinged with a hint of concern because it was one step, yet he backed away for three. Little did you know, your proximity was affecting him more than the alcohol he'd consumed.
Undeterred and tequila-fueled, you continued. “I really don't want to drink those abominations in liquid form my friends dared me, so may you find it in your good heart to let me kiss the shit out of you so I’m saved.”
What the hell did he just hear? “Kiss the shit out of me…?”
“Yeah.” So, he heard you right. He’s not making it up. Good, he thinks.
“What do I get in return?”
“Lunch? My treat.” 
Did you just offer a multimillionaire heir a lunch and promise it's on you? At this point, you're not drunk — you're certifiably crazy.
“Hmm, sounds good. Alright, please do show me how the shit out of me can be kissed by you.”
In the face of his agreement, you rolled your eyes at his mocking tone. But there was no time for second-guessing; this was your moment.
Grasping the front of his shirt, you tugged him closer. You saw how his eyes widened at what you did before it broke out to a boyish grin. A breath passed, and then — the two of you collided.
In the electrified space between heartbeats, your lips found each other hungrily. His breath mingled with yours, a shared exchange of anticipation as your mouths moved in sync, exploring each other with an urgency that defied logic.
The taste of tequila still lingered, a faint reminder of the daring choice that had led you here. But it was the heat, the fervor, that consumed you both. Your bodies pressed together, the proximity sparking flames of need that danced through your veins.
His fingers found purchase at your waist, the touch igniting a trail of sensation that sent shivers down your spine. Your fingers were tangled in his hair, and a moan rose out of your throat as he drew your bottom lip between his teeth, a delicious tug that blurred the lines between who was kissing whom.
You pulled back from the kiss first, and a protest almost climbed Reo’s throat. But he knew better than to step in unwarranted, instead, he settled with savoring the image of your flushed state. Even in these neon blaring lights, Reo could discern your state with your heavy panting. Was it because of the alcohol? Or him? He hopes it’s the latter.
“That was… fuck. Thank your friends for the dare for me, yeah?”
And that’s how it all ended — with a kiss far from innocent.
Now here you are, nursing a splitting headache as you trudged across campus, textbooks clutched to your chest, trying to shake off the remnants of last night's debauchery. The taste of regret was heavy on your tongue—not just from the hangover, but from the events that led up to it.
In your slightly inebriated mind, the plan made sense. Kiss the hottest guy at the party, and you'd show your friends that you were up to the challenge. It was akin to hitting two birds with one stone: escaping the impending liquor onslaught and salvaging your pride. 
At the time, it sounded good – sounded like a winning strategy. But now? You want to bang your head against the wall for even thinking it made sense. And you’d do it if it weren’t for your phone buzzing in your pocket interrupting your self-loathing.
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Last night for Reo was enchanting, to say the least. 
It was like a spark in the darkness, an unexpected surge of joy that he found himself smirking at the memory, reliving the sensation of your lips in his.
Last night might have been the spark, but it wasn't where it all began for Reo. 
Before you approached him at the party, he remembered you from freshman year. It was hard not to—especially when he recalled the exact moment. He perfectly remembers how you looked him dead in the eye and quipped,“Why waste your time on that sport if your aim is as off as a blindfolded archer? The goal's over there, genius. Not me.” after his supposed goal went astray and hit you in the back.
Well, he took that personally— word for word. And within a year, he had risen to become the best player on the team.
Now add that memory to the daring kiss you shared last night? There was no way Reo would be forgetting you anytime soon. He was now on a mission to make sure that you remembered him as vividly as he remembered you.
Good thing you owe him lunch, and an even better thing that he spotted you just now on a bench near the field he was on. He chuckled to himself at the coincidence, he wasn’t expecting to see you so soon. 
Reo, with his pragmatic and business-oriented mindset, was perhaps one of the last people on earth to put faith in notions like fate. But maybe he can make an exception to that philosophy if it’s you. 
Because right now, this whole thing felt like a mischievous wink from the cosmos, giving Reo a shot at something he had only dared to imagine. Wasting no more chances, he pulled out his phone.
[Today, 8:32 AM]
Is this Y/N?  This is Reo, by the way.
From his vantage point, he saw you reach for your phone immediately after he hit send. The widening of your eyes and the hint of surprise as you read his message didn't go unnoticed.
Cute. Peering down to his phone, he snorted with laughter at your response.
y/n: No. You’ve got the wrong number. [8:33 AM] Your friend confirmed it’s yours, though :P [8:33 AM] Also, I can see you typing. [8:34 AM]
Your eyes immediately scanned the whole field in search of the possible source of your college life’s impending doom. After a few seconds of looking with furrowed brows and a crinkled nose, there – you saw him, with his head slightly cocked to the side and his arms crossed over his chest, grinning at your display of reaction to his messages.
Your searching eyes transformed into bewilderment the instant he stood up, making his way toward you. Realizing that the two of you couldn’t be seen together under any circumstances to avoid igniting unnecessary gossip, your fingers danced over the screen of your phone, rapidly firing off messages that inundated his notifications.
y/n: what do you need are you trying to approach me stop right there stop walking!!!! everyone's looking i swear to god [8:37 AM]
Your frantic typing, however, seemed to make no impact. As if on a mission, Reo continued walking closer to you with the most annoyingly confident grin on his lips. His gaze was locked onto you, unwavering and undeterred.
Even from the distance that separates you two, you could make out what he was wearing. And you were damn sure, it was the sluttiest piece of clothing a man could wear.
The divine must really have its favorites, it seems. Because while you looked like hell had taken up residence on your head from last night’s festivities, he looked too sinful for a sunny morning in his compression shirt. 
No one should look that damn good at 8 AM—it's practically criminal and a slap in the face to regular college students like you.
As Reo closed the distance between you, you could practically feel the weight of all those curious eyes fixated on the scene. Were they looking at him? You? Or both? The thought alone made you want to sink into the ground and disappear.
“Hi.” 
Hi? You’re hyperventilating from the attention the two of you are getting and he quips a hi? 
“What do you need?” you hissed, trying to keep your voice steady amid the prying gazes of onlookers.
Reo's grin remained stubbornly intact, seemingly oblivious to the audience around you. “I’m here to collect a favor you owe me!” he declared with an enthusiasm that felt almost out of place in this surreal moment.
He can’t be seriously asking you to buy him lunch, right? What does he even eat? A5 Wagyu steak? There’s no way your student budget can afford that.
“I don’t remember owing you anything.”
“Really? I’ll remind you then, you offered to buy me lunch last night before you grabbed my collar and kissed m–”
“Finish that sentence, and lunch is not the only thing you’ll get from me.”
Your threat hung heavy in the air, your words loaded with a blend of annoyance and embarrassment that had settled on your cheeks.
“Is that a threat or a promise?” and yet, ever undeterred from your hostility, Reo's voice took on a smug, teasing tone that matched the twinkle in his eye.
This guy. “You're a bit annoying, don’t you think?”
“No, I don't think I am,” he countered, “And I also don't think that's how you should speak to someone who, and I quote, found it in their good heart to kiss you and save you from eight shots of tequila, though.”
Reo was on a mission, that much was clear. And quoting your exact words from last night seemed to be one of his tactics to ensure you remembered him and that kiss you shared. 
And lucky him, it looks like it’s working like a charm in which the telltale warmth in your cheeks revealed. Unfortunately for you, your simmering frustration combined with a throbbing headache could either launch you into a one-way ticket to expulsion or earn you a potential criminal record.
May the universe and all the saints grant you patience, because the overwhelming urge to wipe that damn grin off his face is slowly overtaking your senses.
You glanced at your watch, calculating whether you had enough time to wrap up your presentation before considering lunch. “Fine. Text me the location,” you conceded, your tone reluctantly agreeable. “I have a presentation to do first. I'll meet you there before noon.”
It might turn out to be a questionable financial decision to let him choose the lunch spot, but you were sticking to your word. You still owed him, after all.
“Sure. Good luck on your presentation. I’m sure you’ll devour the shit out of it.” 
His playful tone, quoting your own words again back at you, made your eyes roll in a mix of annoyance and flustered embarrassment.
Reo, on the other hand, seems like he’s having the time of his life with your reactions.
Someone can’t wait for lunch time, it seems. And clearly, that’s not you but a certain purple-haired.
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If anyone were to observe Reo in this moment, they might easily mistake his fidgeting for the anxious prelude to a first Tinder meet up. Of course, that would be utterly absurd, considering he was simply awaiting someone's arrival, who happened to owe him a wholesome meal.
The little bell above the restaurant's entrance jingled, drawing Reo's attention like a magnet. 
His heart skipped a beat when he saw you walk in, much to his surprise. Seemingly fresh and put-together now, you appeared quite different from the disarrayed figure he had spotted on the field earlier. 
Your smile, which now adorned your face as you exchanged pleasantries with the hostess, seemed to hint that your presentation had gone well, and perhaps the remnants of last night’s headache were subsiding.
Casually dressed yet carrying an air of understated confidence, you navigated the room with ease. His eyes followed you as you moved, taking in the subtle sway of your hair, the way your lips curved into polite smiles for familiar faces. He observed this scene unfolding before him, almost as if he were watching a scene from one of those romcom movies.
When your gaze finally settled on him, Reo could feel the heat making its way to his neck that he hoped his collar was hiding well.
The moment you settled into your seat, you wasted no time in addressing the metaphorical elephant in the room. “I’m sorry I put you in that position last night,” you blurted out.
Conversation starters were not your strong suit, Reo noted with an inward chuckle. Last night's shameless question was understandable, given the influence of alcohol, but in the clear light of day, your choice of conversation openers left much to be desired.
“It’s fine,” he replied with a sidelong glance, his lips curling into a faint smile of reassurance. He raised his left hand to catch the waiter's attention, subtly signaling for the menu. “Glad it was me, actually,” he mumbled more to himself than to you, his own unfiltered thought taking him by surprise.
“What?”
“What?”
Before you could even attempt to untangle the verbal knot, the waiter arrived with the menus, saving Reo from any further explanations. He observed as the waiter acknowledged you, a smile exchanged between you two. It seemed you were a regular here, and he found himself intrigued by yet another layer of your personality.
“You know him?” Reo inquired, nodding toward the departing waiter.
“Oh, I'm a regular here. It's my favorite place,” you explained with a hint of fondness.
“What are the chances? It's mine too.” 
Your eyes narrowed in playful disbelief, seemingly not buying the idea of someone like Reo enjoying a meal at a diner like this. “You?”
You admit you were surprised when he texted you of this place being his choice of dining. You were totally gearing up for him to suggest some fancy French or Italian joint where you'd need to take out a loan just to cover the bill. After all, people like him should be dining on caviar and foie gras. But then he texted you this choice, and maybe he's more down-to-earth than you thought. Or maybe he just knows where the good food is. It's hard to believe either, though.
Challenged, Reo insisted, “Yes. Me.”
“Alright, what are you having then? I’m ordering their famous pesto pasta—surely you know what that is, right?” you teased, a playful smile tugging at your lips. 
“Of course, I do.” Reo was basically lying through his teeth, at this point. But he couldn’t back down from his claim. And what? Admit that it's his first time here and the only reason he chose this was because he often sees you eating here? Not a chance.
“Why don’t you order for us then?”
With no turning back, he quipped, “Sure thing,” before signaling for a server. He sensed your amused gaze on him, and a hint of a smile tugging at your lips.
“We’ll have two orders of your pesto pasta, please.”
“Uhm sir, we don’t serve pasta here.”
You let out a laugh, and Reo swears he could almost hear the birds chirping in the background.
Maybe a bit of embarrassment was a fair trade for that sound, he mused.
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Lunch, for you, was not so bad and not quite the disaster you initially imagined.
Not until, out of nowhere, Reo brought up your embarrassing escapade from last night, “Was it because of that incident in freshman year that you approached me last night?”
“Freshman year?” you echoed, momentarily thrown off track. “Did we ever have a class together? Because I genuinely can't picture myself willingly signing up for economics or any finance-related course.”
“No, we didn't share any classes. And what's wrong with those courses? They're actually quite enjoyable.”
Yeah, if your idea of fun is spending hours deciphering graphs and balancing budgets. Enjoyable if you think that analyzing the stock market is the pinnacle of excitement.
“I don’t remember you from freshman year, though.” you admitted.
Reo's disbelief was palpable as he leaned back in his chair, a smug grin settling in. “You told me I suck at soccer a couple of years ago. Ring any bells? It was on the field.”
“I did fucking what now again?” You briefly questioned your past choices – or the lack of recollection thereof. Were you perpetually in a tipsy daze during your time at university? How could you miss every brash choice you made? Your brazen mouth could indeed get you into unforeseen trouble one day, that much is very clear.
“And here I was, thinking you kissed me on that dare as payback for me accidentally hitting you with a soccer ball.” Reo chuckled at your surprise, leaning back further.
“No,” you retorted, shaking your head slightly. “I did it because the dare was to kiss someone we found hot at the party.”
Oh. “So you think I’m hot?”
“My drunk self sure did.”
“Well, and what does your sober self think now?”
Clearly, this banter was a game both of you were more than willing to play. With a pointed gaze, you focused on Reo, a slow grin tugging at your lips. The effect on Reo was almost instantaneous—his throat cleared awkwardly, and his confident grin faltering.
“My sober self thinks my drunk self is absolutely right.” 
You infused the word ‘absolutely’ with a nonchalant drawl, noting the flush creeping up Reo’s cheeks. His composure seemed to waver, and he hastily reached for his drink, downing it within seconds. 
Satisfied that you managed to wipe his confident grin, you pressed on, “Are you blushing?”
“No,” Reo responded a bit too quickly, his voice a tad higher than usual. “It’s a bit hot in here.”
“Sure, whatever you say.” You chuckled at his flimsy excuse, your eyes catching the telltale shade of red tinting his ears and neck. Reo is easy to fluster as it is for him to do so, you noted. “Let’s get out of here, let me just pay.” 
Just as you were about to signal a waiter, Reo halted you with his words, “It’s done.”
“Done?”
“I gave them my card before you arrived.”
What the fuck. “But the favor…”
Reo's smirk reappeared, a gleam of triumph in those amethyst orbs. “Looks like you still owe me a date.”
“A lunch,” you corrected him, but Reo shrugged nonchalantly, a playful ‘same thing’ expression on his face.
“Sure, whatever you say,” he mimicked your tone, “Let me walk you to your next class.” He offered, rising from his seat as you did.
“Thank you, but absolutely no.”
“Why not?” 
Reo must be really oblivious to his fame, it seems. “Just because. Also, don’t you have practice?”
“I do, but ten more minutes with you sounds better.” 
You rolled your eyes at his attempt to charm you. “Are you slacking off, captain? Looks like my freshman self was right about your soccer skills after all.”
“I’m not slacking off, I just know my priorities.” and there it was again, that grin and that stare. Whether it was the tequila or just him, Reo really had a way of pulling you into his orbit.
Bashful, and at a loss for better retorts, you looked away. “Next time.”
“So there’s a next time, then?” he innocently asks, clearly fishing for another affirmation.
“Next time, I’m paying.” 
“Got that.” Reo mindlessly agreed. He’s just happy there’s a next time, honestly. “Let me walk you out, at least.”
Both of you left the restaurant, walking side by side in companionable silence. After a few moments, you decided to break the quietude that had settled between you.
“I guess we're parting ways here,” you remarked, your voice carrying a hint of finality.
Reo’s disappointment was evident, though he tried to mask it. “Sure. Thank you for the meal.”
A soft chuckle escaped your lips. “What are you thanking me for? You paid for it.”
“Let me rephrase it then, thank you for introducing me to this place. I’ve clearly been missing out,” he beams.
“You're welcome, Mr. Fine Dining.”
As you walked a few steps ahead of Reo, you turned your head to look back at him, seemingly remembering something to tell him. “Oh, by the way,” you start, a teasing smile making its way to your lips, “I’m glad it was you too.”
With that, you took one last glance at his starstruck expression before parting ways, leaving him with a lingering smile.
Maybe something good does come out of stupid college parties and dumb drinking games – in the form of someone with enchanting smiles and magnetic purple eyes, that is.
And now, for sure, with or without the tequila haze, there’s not a single chance you’re forgetting Reo Mikage anytime soon. 
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note. he makes me ill ( i love him very much and this is purely self-indulgent because i need him like air).
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Spirit Work Basics
You voted, I listened. I meant it. So buckle up as we go through the basics of Spirit Work.
I've touched on this on other posts but I'll make a massive post here. This is not going to explain everything and will still be pretty broad. Cause I do not have the time, the knowledge, nor patience to try and explain EVERYTHING.
But I do hope it helps.
Look under the tags advice, spirit communication, spirit work for more detail.
So hello, I'm Sol. I've been working with spirits since I realized I was speaking with them. I had the gift since I was a young child, first spirit I saw being my grandfather on my father's side shortly after he passed away. He was a pastor, supposedly, I was doing the best I could to repeat his favorite verses despite me being a small little shit. I don't remember the verses, I do remember speaking to him a lot however.
Which is where we'll begin, how to speak to spirits.
Maybe she's born with it? Maybe it's insanity~♪
Well, how do we begin with speaking with spirits? There's a number of ways, actually. Some do have the natural ability, like myself but that shouldn't discourage people who are newly trying and don't have that natural affinity for it. Spirits can and will talk to anyone if you open yourself up. Just takes a bit of work. But Sol, you may ask, how do I do that?
If you've been on witchblr for a bit you know what I'm about to say next: Yup.
Meditate.
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Now listen, meditation is a way to open yourself up to the spirits around you or just at least signal "hey, I'm open to talk to." It gives you a good sense of your own energy and the energy around you. Meditation doesn't have one look either. A lot of people can't just sit still and kept their legs crossed or be on their knees with their eyes closed (I see you ADHD/ADD people). Hell, my lazy ass will meditate lying down.
Literally the definition of Meditation: to engage in mental exercise (such as concentration on one's breathing or repetition of a mantra) for the purpose of reaching a heightened level of spiritual awareness. transitive verb. : to focus one's thoughts on : reflect on or ponder over. (merriam webster)
It's pretty broad, right? Hell, you can even work out and meditate. I do it all the time. Cause I focus on my breathing and the feeling of energy through my body. Basically you can get creative with it.
While you're meditating, make sure you're feeling your own energy. This can come in a number of ways; waves, your heartbeat, a feeling of something cloaking you etc. While you have that feeling down, envision an opening, whether its a door, or just acknowledging you're reaching out to the other side. Whether or not you get an answer back, you are putting yourself out there and that's half the battle done. Just be sure to know how to close yourself and ward your body. Spirit work and opening yourself like that is no joke and I'd like you to be safe.
To do that, just envision whatever you had opened closed or recede back or whatever you used that worked for you.
Signs to Look for
Some of the more common tells of a spirit hearing and trying to communicate are of the following:
Small echos/voices in the back of your head
Random thoughts that may not be your own
Knocks or things shuffling
Strange dreams
Small phantom touches
Feelings of being watched
And Many More!
"But Sol," some of you might say, "that's really fucking vague and could just be explained away."
Yeah...welcome to spirit work. You thought this shit was easy?!
You have to work on your discernment. It is a skill needed for this type of work.
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Seems counterproductive, but it's not! See, if every bump and noise was reported as ghosts or spirits, well...we'd be even less believed than we already are. When doing spirit work, or ghost hunting, you are stuck with the burden of proof and it's a huge burden to have. This is why people ask for repeats of actions, to speak again in recorders and other things. We're asking for repetition, because science is prevalent, especially in spiritualism and occultism. We have to be our own skeptics so when we have something that can't be explained away, we truly have something to celebrate.
Tools on the Job
No one said you had to do this all on vibes. No shame in using tools. I'll more than likely take the time to make specific posts about each tool in the future cause this post is already really long but I'll give you a nice rundown of basic tools.
By the way anyone who tries to shame you for using tools or says "only trainee or baby witches use this or that" are tools themselves (not the good or useful kind) and should not be given the time of day. Tools are fine. Use them for help if you need it because that's what the fuck a tool is for.
Now these aren't all the tools you can use but I'll give you some well known ones. I've seen witches get real creative and it's honestly super cool watching them use strange things that you'd never think about as a witchcraft tool. But that's what makes it so fun.
Tarot cards
Tarot is something I often use. 78 cards all with different meanings. There's many many ways to interpret them and multiple themes that many of them have.
My best advice for these are to just look up the overall meanings both upright and reversed just to have a general consensus of each card. Play around with them a lot, and interpret them the way you would as if you were making a story with them. You can also use them for spirit communication.
Calling forth a spirit allowing them to touch the deck (just leave it for a moment and allow them to influence the deck as it were before doing the spread). Holds a lot of power in your hands but is a little slow.
Pendulum
A pendulum is usually a crystal tied to a string or a chain that can be swung over a board of either yes or no or maybe for its options. Sometimes there is a mock ouija for the pendulum to spell out things as well.
Cool thing about a pendulum is it can be anything that swings if you wish. Some people I've seen take off their necklace and use it as a pendulum just fine. Just have a singular point and you can get to work anywhere with it. Please make sure to ward yourself from invading or malevolent spirits when you do this though.
Lots of pendulum or spirit boards exist and have different templates as well.
This is more of a call and response type of device to use. Especially when you feel a spirit present Still has a fair bit of control in your hands.
Ouija board
The infamous kids game works around the same way a pendulum does, except there is a planchette that slides over the board. This is a call and response based tool much like a pendulum. However, it is a little easier for the ghost to manipulate and control. Which is where all the stupid stories of ghosts completely taking over and fucking up shit takes place. Also, half of the biggest problems are just humans being humans which means victims of groupthink. So... stupidity. Someone freaked so you all freak...the energy gets bad and shit happens. Do your best to remain calm and just work through it.
Also no. ZOZO XOX 2O2O etc does not want your ass. Many spirits claim that shit to get a rise out of you anyway. Guys...no, I swear it does not happen. This is main character energy that none of us have...or want! Even if a demonic entity came in to fuck with you, there are plenty of other ways to do it. Be fucking for real.
Please remain kind and courteous to who you contact. Do not let your paranoia about this tool make you do stupid things. Always say goodbye when you are finished. Try and stay as calm as you can.
Never. Ever leave the planchette on the board unattended. Lest you get an unwanted guest or one that'll overstay their welcome.
Crystal Ball
Crystal Balls are a good way to detect energies. This is normally used in a private setting cause it desires a lot of concentration. Now, I'm admittedly not that knowledgeable in this because I don't use my crystal ball often.
Also, your crystal ball doesn't have to be clear. Mine is obsidian and I love her.
When having your question, focus on it and concentrate. Make sure it is open ended. I mean you can have yes or no, but it's gonna be a bitch to decipher a yes or no answer.
Close your eyes and let the answers come to you in the forms of images and colors and such, examine all you can as just let your intuition work.
Sounds simple but its a rather interesting art form to work on. Symbols and such can confuse you and it's heavy on your interpretation. I'm sure there's books and stuff out there for a general view of this symbol you see might mean this or that but...largely, this is a true test of how you read your intuition.
I'd do it more, if I wasn't closeted and lived with nosy closed-minded people.
C'est la vie.
One important thing though...don't leave your ball uncovered. Especially if it's clear. That's how you end up with burned shit. Those bitches are like mega magnifying glasses. And it happens faster than you think. Science is scary.
Mirror/Water Scrying
Mirror and water scrying is kind of the same as a crystal ball except it's a quicker and often less expensive way to work on your divination.
Some people have a specific mirror that they black out and scry that way. Others have a scrying bowl made for divination alone. It's just as good. You can use any bowl or mirror however. Just be sure to cleanse the area before you start and after you're done.
Some thank the water used for divination before putting it down the sink or in the earth. But that's more of an individual's choice/belief/faith than anything else.
Lots of occultism and spiritualism has a thing with mirrors being portals, openings, etc to the otherside and can bring some unwanted visitors.
And as someone who now sleeps with their mirror facing the wall now, I will say I believe a lot of what people say on that.
I want a goodnights sleep damnit.
Just be sure to cleanse your tools after use. Better safe than sorry.
ETC.
There's a lot of creative ways people can use these tools and magic. So don't think of magic as a recipe for how to be a witch or do witchcraft. That's half the fun of witchcraft.
Discovery.
Finding ways to do things, to hear, to see, to communicate. Yes there are certain tools that work better than others but, we as individual people also work in different ways.
There's a psychic out there who reads asparagus like bones. There's someone who will scry with a puddle on the ground they found. People have their own methods and ways to work their magic and we should learn from them. So if you have some non normal tactic or even something unsual, embrace it to the fullest.
I divine with music. If you ask me it's Apollo's influence. My spirits communicate with music.
When I meet people and get a good vibe on them a song comes to mind, and even if I forget your face, your voice, who you are, that song will remind me what I think of you. Songs pop up in my head when people associated with it are close.
I'm not going to say I'm the only one in the world who does this, cause that would be some bs. But its my tactic and its natural.
Do what is natural for you and not what other witches say you should do.
Even me, I beg you not to try and emulate or follow my advice down to a T if it doesn't work for you. Don't force it to work.
I am just one person, one voice spouting some advice. Take what you can from it, take what helps and work your own path. And then in turn do the same. I'm a path offering person not a director. But that's...just...me...
"But Sol, how do I speak to spirits?"
Talk.
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Yeah, that simple. Talk.
This can be in a lot of forms. Some write and burn letters to ancestors, or past family members. Set up a placement for talking to them. Admittedly, a lot of spirit work and communication is experimental. We just warn you over some things because they've happened enough for us as a collective to go ah, a pattern.
I have urns at home so it's pretty easy to say hello in that case.
I am NOT telling you to go into a graveyard and just go wussap. No. Some spirits don't want your tomfuckery. Also if they're feeling really chatty all at once you might get overwhelmed and you will not have a good time. Read the dead room.
Open yourself up. WARD YOURSELF FIRST! PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF THE GODS. But yeah open yourself up. Learn how to open your pathways and close them first. That comes with meditating. Yes, this is why damn near all of us nag the shit out of y'all about meditating.
Just talk and listen. It won't happen immediately. It takes time and a careful ear. Remember signs to look for. You might spot them before you hear them. Small instances of shadows out the corner of your eye. A touch from nowhere, a shiver down your spine. Other things going off or being moved, etc. Slowly, someone or something will receive your message and try to respond in kind.
When you get these small responses, just keep calm and say hello or acknowledge what they've done.
"Oh, someone's here"
"Hello there"
"Are you still here?"
It'll be awkward (try to remember where you are, don't be a weirdo in public), but overtime you'll get better at it.
Conclusion!
Like any skill, spirit communication takes practice.
There are a vast plethora of ways to communicate with tools that I haven't mentioned as well, like automatic writing which is a pretty good beginner way to jump in.
Just have a pen/pencil on paper, write what comes to mind. Its a good way to practice hearing and catching signs as well.
And something I will never stop saying is you don't have to take this journey alone! Especially if you don't want to. Find someone experienced to start this journey with. Someone who calms you, who can support you. Support and asking for help is good. Last thing any of us want is for you to get hurt or scared out of doing this if this is something you really want to do. So call us, talk to us. Confide in more experienced people.
So many times on this site and other places, we are begging to form this beautiful network so we can help one another, give advice, hang out etc.
We are right here, just reach out for us. You'll get a hand back in kind.
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m1d-45 · 11 days
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mundane extravagance
summary: there’s a dinner tonight, and you’re not leaving looking anything less than your best.
word count: 1.1k
warnings: none :3 petnames dear + darling are used for reader
-> gn!reader (implied to be in formal wear but none is described except a buttoned shirt + one ring)
taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk
< masterlist >
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dating a harbinger had many perks. living in zapolyarny palace was one, kept safe from the howling storms and the many, many people that had a vendetta against your lover. a guard accompanied you whenever you went off on your own in case they’d managed to infiltrate the fatui, though they were rarely called upon. the regrator’s work was not half as violent as, say, tartaglia’s, so you rarely had want or reason to leave his side.
now, however, you were considering making an exception.
you could handle visits to the northland bank, you could sit in his office and listen as he ranted about some business proposal or another and rather enjoyed doing so, but this… by far, the largest downside to dating the ninth harbinger was the socializing.
parties. galas. anniversary dinners and celebration dinners and grand opening dinners and dinners just because the sun had risen that morning. it was, quite frankly, beyond excessive and more than teetering into exorbitant. he explains them all to you, of course, detailing who will be where and why he doesn’t think another will show while carefully attaching another sparkling chain to his glasses, but it doesn’t help to curb the sheer quantity of events.
but with an event comes a dress code, and with a dress code comes actually getting dressed, and with getting dressed comes your current predicament.
fitted clothes. your first thought was that someone had spilled their drink on him when he told you to come with him for measuring, but he’d been too happy for that. he took you by the hand down a winding pathway in his wing of the palace, landing at unfamiliar plain doors. you were led onto a pedestal with a smile to be still, where you’d stay for the next hour.
he was the one that had actually taken your measurements, of course. why he had led you all the way to the actual fitting room was anybody’s guess, though you suspected it had more to do with theatrics than actual need. he didn’t so much as glance at either the chart of required measurements or the notepad beside it, seemingly memorizing everything. he led you down with a kiss on the cheek and a whispered well done, and it’s like it never happened. any further questions about it were met with a knowing smile and deflection.
by the end of the week, he’d presented you with a nondescript black bag with a hanger sticking out of the top, making you promise not to open it. you hadn’t, and now you wished you did if only to practice putting it on.
he—who else?—knocked at your door, the sound slightly dampened by his gloves. “is everything alright, darling? you’ve been in there for quite a while.”
and who’s fault was it, exactly, that you were struggling to button up a shirt with diamond shaped buttons? none other than him, the man inviting himself in without a word, permanent smile wider than usual.
“is there a problem?”
you let your hands fall, not bothering to try and keep your shirt closed. “were these necessary?”
he closes the door, “everything has its purpose, dear.”
you don’t bother asking him to explain, letting him step closer and tug and smooth your shirt until there’s not a single wrinkle. he’s dressed as perfect as always, done up in black and purple. no matter what he wears, he always manages to slip in *purple*, and today is no exception. amethyst dangles from the corner of his glasses, matching the thick ring wrapped around his thumb. your shirt is a similar color, the black buttons melding with his gloves, each slipped through effortlessly.
one finger nudges your chin up, your collar pulled into perfect shape. he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a thin silver band and slipping it on your pinky finger.
“is this necessary?”
he brings your hand up, pressing a kiss to your knuckles with a smile. “any other issues you need my help with?”
ah, if you weren’t in love with him you’d surely have broken his nose by now. “you picked these intentionally.”
“forget already?” he pulls your hand back, your body following, his hand slipping around your waist. “everything has its purpose, whether you know it or not.”
you don’t bother pointing out that he’s definitely introduced new wrinkles into your clothes, or that your perfectly fitted shirt now feels a bit too tight, or a myriad of other symptoms that assuredly make you unpresentable for tonight’s dinner.
you bite your tongue, because he already knows. his nose just barely brushes yours, breath puffing over your lips and making your heart race.
he smiles, and then he’s gone. his hand leaves yours and he doesn’t even fix your shirt as he steps away, leaving back through the same door with a flash of gems and expensive cologne. “now that you’re all in order, i expect to be leaving soon. any objections?”
your head falls back and your hands flex at your sides, trying and somewhat failing to calm your racing thoughts. the knowledge that he does this on purpose doesn’t make it any easier to brush off. arguably, his easy amusement makes it worse.
“none at all, lonnie.”
you do your best to neaten your shirt, fiddling with the cuff as you leave your room. hes put on his coat, and you swear there’s another ring on one of his hands. he turns as you come in and clicks his tongue, taking your coat off its rack and sweeping it around your shoulders. it’s more of a ceremonial cloak than something that actually keeps you warm, but that doesn’t matter. even in snezhnaya, you can count the number of times you’ve been cold while dating him on half of one hand. money can buy just about everything you could possibly ever want or need.
he pulls your shirt down and chin up, smile never once wavering. “look sharp, dear, and stay close. i’d hate to lose you in the crowd.”
you swear he slips something in your pocket when he pulls away, but don’t bother checking. as conniving as the fatui are, and as slippery as his words can be, you trust him with your life.
and if that includes a definitely not at all suspicious item tucked into your coat pocket, then who are you to question the regrator’s judgement?
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beatrixstonehill2 · 1 month
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"Lying in bed fantasizing about how badly I want to detransition. Lose these big soft boobs I've grown, never pass as a girl again.... not that I pass very well now, do I, boys?" Anna reached into her pants, pulling out thick, rock-hard foot-long cock. She shook it for the camera, its swollen foreskin jiggling. "What have I done to myself? My feminine little three-inch cock is monster size now. I already feel like I'll never be a girl again because I did this. My balls are the size of lemons, nice and plump. To think what'll happen to my girly body if I stop taking my testosterone blockers. Those giant balls will flood my body with so much T I won't need injections at all. I'll never be mistaken for a girl ever again.
I'm so happy I stumbled on this community. I was just a happy-go-lucky trans girl walking through life oblivious, wearing sexy outfits, flaunting my growing boobs on social media. A bunch of guys started messaging me telling me how poorly I pass and they're surprised I even bother continue keeping up the act with how masculine I look. For some reason reading these DMs made my cock hard. All the comments were from former trans girls who stopped their silly game of dress up and detransed. They showed me before/after pics of how girly they were, all totally gorgeous with big boobs and fat asses, only to become fat greasy men with balding scalps and beards, huge beer bellies covered in stretch marks and hair.
I could hardly believe it. They kept interacting with my pics, asking when I was going to detrans, telling my followers I was thinking of going on T. I could hardly keep up with it. I made a pretty infamous video, all dolled up in a sexy dress, telling my followers I wasn't detransitioning...... yet. I was just thinking about it a little. This opened the floodgates and my comments and DMs were 100% overrun by people cheering me on to detransition. A lot of them said the best way to know if you should detrans is take Rocket. It does make your balls huge but as long as you stay on blockers it won't detrans you to have them. Apparently any real trans girl will be mortified to have a growing cock, and finally get SRS out of desperation after going on Rocket, fakegirls will become obsessed with gooning their new plaything.
Guess what camp I'm in? Even at six inches I started going outside way less, finding porn more interesting by the day. Now I jerk off the second I wake up until the night. I don't let myself cum. I let it build and build, so my cock is bloated and swollen, covered in painful scratches from my nails from pumping it all day, then if I'm lucky I have a wet dream. When I go out, I don't see girls as the same thing as me anymore, I see them as targets to pounce on or humiliate myself in front of by going up to them and gooning to them. Which I've started to do quite a lot. Especially pregnant girls, I love finding a couple a pretty college girls with big guts full of kids, their tits bouncing in their little tank tops, and I'll walk up jerking with one hand, squeezing my balls with the other, gasping and moaning, telling them I want to break their water and force them to give birth. A few have even taken me up on my horny guy-brained offer.
Now I'm totally obsessed with being a voyeur and gawking at pretty girls as I pump my growing cock. This is going to get even more fun when my voice cracks and I don't sound girly anymore. As it is now when I goon in the girls' room the other girls hear me and just knock on my stall to tell me to masturbate at home. I can't wait until they start kicking me out for being a guy pretending I'm a girl.... surprised they don't now since it's soooo obvious I'm not a girl! I can't wait until my facial hair starts growing and I get hair on my big bouncy boy tits.
Since starting Rocket I've also already put on about 25lbs. Some of that is my big meaty cock but I think it's a good sign for the kind of guy I'm detransing into, like soooo many mtftm detransitioners I've met, I think I can expect to get very, very fat, which perfectly suits the kind of perverted gooner I'm meant to be. Sweaty, hardly bathing, sitting at home all day engaging with pornography, commenting all kinds of gross stuff, subscribing to loads of OnlyFans girls that look hot like I used to and perving on them like a desperate loser, telling them how much I goon to them every day, how much I wish I could knock them up and make them cum. Godddd I can't wait! I should do it, shouldn't I? Go off my blockers today? I need to!" Anna bit her lip, pumping her oversized cock. "I need to become a boy so bad I can't stop! I want these big swollen balls of mine to flood my body with T and totally ruin all the hard work of transitioning so young. I can't wait to get my titties removed and tell my doctors I was just a dumb boy playing pretend, as I get fatter and fatter and more perverted, hitting on my nurses and fondling my cock in front of them. There's this cute brunette who takes my bloodpressure who's been pregnant like four times, her boobs must be an H-Cup! I think next time I see her I'm going to grope her tits just to see what happens, I bet I'll get milk all over her scrubs, it'll be so hot! ❤️"
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prophecyofwinter · 3 months
Text
Se Riña Qilōni Iprattan Se Jēdar | IV
Aemond Targaryen x Reader
Summary | Saera Targaryen daughter of Jaehaerys I ran away from Westeros to escape her fate. 45 years later her daughter Y/N Targaryen, with invitation from King Viserys wishes to go back.
Tags | Slowburn, TargCest, Smut, Standard ASOIAF content, Aemond and Reader are First Cousins Once Removed, tags to be added
Prologue | Chapter III | Chapter V | Masterlist
Chapter IV | First Day of the Rest of your Life
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“Pull yourself together and present yourself properly. This is my mother, the Queen. Do not make anyone regret allowing you here.”
His voice shocked you, the way he gripped your arm shocked you. Nothing like the way he caressed your hand and spoke low compliments into your ear less than half an hour before. You’ve done nothing to offend him and yet he’s holding you like a parent scolding a child. Looking at his expression all you can read is a slight annoyance, otherwise it’s a look of indifference.
Allowed? You were not ‘allowed’ you were asked, if anything you allowed yourself here.
“Release me! Is this how guests are treated in Westeros?” You say through clenched teeth roughly tugging yourself out of Aemonds grasp.
If this is how it shall be, so be it.
Aemond looked shocked by your sudden aggression, a momentary slip of his mask. His jaw tightened and let out a huff like a little boy.
“I am treating you far more kindly than what others will. Heed my advice.” Aemond ends the conversation there by knocking on the carriage door with the back of his hand, not breaking eye contact.
The door opens and Aemond moves to leave first, extending his hand to help you out of the carriage.
You take his hand hesitantly, there is no other choice for the sake of appearances.
You gaze up once you are standing on solid ground and without obstruction you see the Red Keep in all its glory. The red stone and towers that blocked the sun to the point where you were surprised the town didn’t spend most of the day in darkness.
Your mother told you many stories about her nefarious ‘activities’ she got up to while living here. Of course for most of these you spent covering your ears and begging her to stop.
Aemond linked his arm with yours, leading you forward across the dirt floor of the courtyard. You stopped your gawking in favor of looking towards the Queen. You haven’t seen many people with red hair before, it must be common here. She holds herself with impeccable posture, something your mother would imitate to mock Westerosi women for their piousness.
“Welcome to King’s Landing, Y/N, I hope the journey went without trouble. I know the sea can be moody this time of year. I’m glad Aemond got you from the port in one piece.” Alicent greeted you with a soft smile. You could see her eyes glancing over your clothes. It made you feel as though you were standing in front of her naked.
“Thank you Queen Alicent, I am grateful for the invitation. The sea has treated me well, as has Prince Aemond.” You gave a curtsy to her, gripping Aemonds bicep harder. You could feel every function in your body working at full speed, embarrassing yourself is your worst fear right now.
“Thank you, my Queen.” The armored man next to Alicent spoke up. He was clearly a guard of some kind, with black hair, facial hair, and a judging expression directed at you. “You live in Westeros now, she is your Queen.”
A silence fell over after the man’s words, both Alicent and Aemond gave him a short glance of confusion while you froze up.
“Oh, I didn’t mean anything by it I swear-“ You said trying to save yourself.
“Do not worry sweet girl, Ser Criston meant nothing by it. He is just bothered that Aemond is late to his training session. Why don’t I take you while Aemond trains?” Alicent steps forward to rub your upper arm and give a slight tug to signal you to let go of Aemond.
“That would be very lovely, my Queen.” You smile and relinquish your hold on Aemond in favor of standing closer to Alicent. She begins walking expecting you to follow, and you do. While walking you glance back and notice Aemond staring back at you while walking his own way.
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Alicent makes small talk with you about small things like foods from Essos, what Volantis is like, how your mother is fairing and so on.
The halls of the keep are long and filled with many trinkets along the way. You gaze out the windows when you pass by, you can see a rather large forest within the walls and out another you see the ocean with a garden with gazebos and walkways. The scent of fresh flowers passes through your nose making you feel relaxed.
“Excuse me my Queen. As much as I love this tour, I am rather tired from my voyage.” You say trying not to sound rude but you were feeling really tired. Alicent so far has been kind so you thought it would be alright to request to be shown your quarters.
“Of course you are. I don’t mean to keep you for much longer, but first we must get you checked by one of the Maesters.” Alicent said while leading you down a cobblestone staircase deeper into the bowels of the keep.
You hadn’t even realized how far down you were, surely this was the last level of the keep with windows. You knew exactly what she meant. Your face started to heat up and your heart was beating fast just by the premise.
“By getting me checked, do you mean…”
“Checking to make sure you’re still intact. Unless that is an issue…?” Alicent stopped at the bottom of the steps looking at you from the side, her demeanor unchanging.
“No of course not! It just sounds… uncomfortable.” You twiddle with your hands to ease your nerves. You can’t quite think of a word to describe how having an old man look at your most intimate area makes you feel. If there is even a good word to use.
Alicent, seemingly happy with your response, begins walking deeper down the stone hall and you walk fast to catch up.
“Maesters are men of the faith, they have no care for intimacy. They have seen hundreds of women. Our current Maester helped me birth all four of my children and will help you birth yours.” The way Alicent explains it makes sense but, men without desire? Every kind of man everywhere has visited a brothel at least once, no? You shake the thought from your head for your own comfort.
She stops at a wooden door and grabs the handle but doesn’t open the door.
“If it helps I will be in the room with you.” Alicent gives you a small smile and opens the door. You follow her in, trying your best to not let your gaze wander to the floor.
“Maester Mellos. I believe I informed you some time ago I would need you to make sure Aemonds betrothed is intact.”
You saw what you had expected to see, an old man dressed in bland clothing. The shelves lined with all kinds of medical devices and other things you couldn’t even guess the purpose of.
“Ah yes, I do remember. Have no worries I have been doing this for longer than you’ve been alive. I even saw your mother for a time.” The Maester went on for a little too long. You don’t think you needed to know that last part, everyone knows how that went.
You were guided to remove your lower small clothes and lay on the table, resting your head on a pillow. Alicent assured you it would only take a moment. Still, you laid there with your hands clasped together digging your nails into your skin. You began to count the pieces of stone on the ceiling to ignore whatever was happening on the other end of the table.
“All is well on this end, perfectly intact.” The Maester stood up and declared his final result. The second the words left his mouth you instantly got off the table and moved to put yourself back together.
“Fantastic news, thank you once again Maester, that’s all. Come Y/N.” Alicent states bluntly and once again begins to move without waiting. You rushed to finish putting your small clothes back on and chased to catch up.
————-
“Your chamber is fairly close to Aemonds, there should be no trouble navigating between rooms once you are wed. Two handmaidens have been assigned to you, they will wake you in the morning and make sure you’re dressed.” Alicent stood by the door while you wandered around your chambers, checking out every square inch.
“This is more than enough! I don’t even know how to thank you for your kindness, my Queen.” You walked up to Alicent with a big smile on your face. Everything was perfect, you could almost forget the hectic day you’ve had. There was even a wide balcony that looked over the gardens.
“It is just one of the many duties of being Queen. I fear I’ve kept you far too long, get some rest. I will send for you in the morning.” Alicent said before taking her leave, leaving you alone in your chambers.
You fell back first onto your bed and let out a big huff. You pray you made the right decision, who knows when or if you’ll go back to Volantis. You can’t expect to be liked instantly, being legitimized won’t change much if you don’t make the effort. You can already tell Prince Aemond and Queen Alicent aren’t too fond of your origins. Alicent is very good at hiding it which you can at least appreciate.
But, Mental crises can wait until tomorrow, you’re too tired to tackle that beast.
Simply too tired to put on any clothes to sleep in, you strip everything you are wearing and climb into bed. Rolling around in the new found comfort of such a big bed, it even had sheer curtains that made you feel even better. Sleep takes you quick, dreams of food and wine take root in your mind.
The first day of the rest of your life has come and gone.
——————
🏷️: @toodlesxcuddles @blackgirlmagicforever @yourwonkywriter
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alice-angel12x · 7 months
Text
Born of Unknown Stardust
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Ch. 3
summary: The angles formed the world and all mortal life from dust. One day from the unknown the angels came across bizarre dust, that seemed to have a will of its own. It refused to be molded and shaped to the angel's will. So they cast it aside, till a certain angel got his creative hands on it.
(Long post)
(bittersweet story) (platonic) Lucifer x (???) Reader x Sera
<-Part 2/ Part 4-> (additional art here)
____________________________
"Lucifer... What Have you Done!" The elders shot in horror as the roots of Evil seeped into the earth.
The Apple of Knowledge of good and evil is eaten into rolls on the ground as the knowledge that Eve was not ready for rushes into her head. It was painful and overwhelming.
Lucifer stands before the court of the heavenly elders. Lilith stood not far behind Lucifer as she watched in worried anticipation.
"Not only have you gotten too involved with a human, but You let evil taint our creation. We told you your Ideas were too dangerous, and you have only proven our point," One of the elders glared.
Lucifer stood resolute as he tried to put on a bold face for Lilith Even if the angelic metal chains and cuffs were tight on his wrist and neck.
"We will look past this and forgive you if you apologize. And Leave the mortals alone," Another elder spoke up. "That also means leaving that mortal alone too."
They said as they pointed to Lilith who was cowering in front of some arch-angels keeping an eye on her. Lucifer looked at her with concern, all this happened so suddenly. As their eyes met, Lucifer made his decision.
"I... I do not regret what I have done," He said with a slight glare, even as the chain chafed at his skin.
The Elders gasped in Horror at Lucifer's answer, the elders quickly discussing amongst each other.
"Lucifer has not only let evil leak into the earth, but it seems to have taken him too. Fallling into the chains of lust," One elder said.
"We made it clear to him when we told him not to interfere. He only has himself to blame," Other scoffed.
As the Elders chatted, one was not paying attention to the conversation. The high seraphim Sera. Her mind was elsewhere, on the one who everyone seemed to have forgotten, Yuu. Her heart could only wonder what would happen to little Yuu now, one of the many victims of this. She started to think back when she noticed Lucifer sneaking off for days at a time.
___________________________
Sera flew up to the door and gave a light knock. The Door opened quickly, but instead of Lucifer, it was Little Yuu treating her.
"Hello Miss Sera," Yuu greeted happily.
"Hello Yuu, is your father home?" She asked as she knelt to Yuu's level
"Da? No, haven't seen him," Yuu shrugged.
"How long ago did you see him, I might be able to catch up with him," Sera asked.
"Umm... 5 days ago I think," Yuu said as they thought back.
"5 Days?! How often is this?" Sera asked in concern.
"Umm, more often know... And longer too... Where is Da going Sera?" Yuu asked her.
" I don't know sweety. Mind if I keep you company for a little bit?" Sera asked.
"Well Da said to not let people inside the house when he's not home," Yuu said as they thought, when. " But he never said anything about the garden!"
Sera chuckled at Yuu's enthusiasm, as Yuu told her to wait in the gardens. In the garden was a simple stone table, the flowers and plants surrounded the small set up. Soon the young tot came outside with Tea and snacks. It looked very childishly slapped together, but Sera appreciated the effort.
Sera just smiled and listened as Yuu childishly rambled on and on anything that came to mind. To hold a conversation with guests. As She listens, she notices one of Yuu's blueprints sticking out from their pocket.
"So what great invention are you working on now?" Sera asks as she points to the paper.
"Oh, this? This is for my dad," Yuu said as they pulled out the blueprints.
Sera looked it over. She was a bit confused to see a simple drawing of a jar. With notes scribbled all over that she really couldn't understand.
"What is it?" She asked with a confused expression on her face.
"A world in a bottle," Yuu smiled excitedly.
"I'm afraid I don't understand," Sera said.
"I'm going to put a world inside the jar. Where my dad can make whatever he wants inside," Yuu explained. " I'm almost done putting everything together."
"Umm, how so?" Sera was beyond confused, how could a world fit in such a small container.
With an excited smile, Yuu opened the jar, and the two were sucked inside. Sera gasped as she closed her eyes, waiting for the worst.
"Miss Sera? You can't see anything with your eyes closed," Yuu said.
She slowly opened an eye, to see an unbelievable sight before her.
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"I managed to finish the ocean, but I like the idea of an underwater house. So I'll add land later, and have a normal house," Yuu explained as they showed off the pocket world.
"Yuu this is beautiful, and this is almost done?" Sera asked in awe.
"Yeah, just want to add some land and mountains," Yuu nodded. "Do you think Da will like it? Then maybe he will spend more time with me?"
"Lucifer will love it," Sera reassured with a gentle smile. “But why did you make this for him?”
“So he can see I’m getting close to making his own earth,” Yuu said proudly.
“His own Earth?” Sera asked curiously
“So he has a place he can put all his ideas, so the elders don’t have to worry about their earth,” Yuu explained.
Sera smiled softly at Yuu’s kind heart. "You know making a world by yourself won't be easy. It could take a very long time," She says.
"I know, but Da promised he would wait for me and stay out of trouble," Yuu smiled, though it was a bit unsure.
"Your heart is so kind little one," Sera smiles as she pattes Yuu's head.
____________________________
"And that creature Yuu should go too. Who knows what that thing will do on its own. It could cause trouble, cast it to hell with its creator," another elder said, snapping Sera out of her thoughts.
"No," She said suddenly.
"What?!" The other elders gasped.
"Yuu is innocent and has nothing to do with this. Lucifer's choices and actions were all his own," She says sternly. " Yuu is a kind-hearted individual, and sending an innocent to hell is too cruel a fate."
"Are you going to Keep an eye on them?" They asked.
"I will. I'll make sure to guide them down the right path," Sera said with certainty.
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The portal to The underworld ripped asunder as the archangels dragged and pushed Lucifer and Lilith closer to the edge.
"Lucifer!" Sera called out.
Lucifer looked at her with a slight glare as the chains held him still.
"I promise to take care of Yuu for you," Sera promised sincerely.
"Wait? What do you mean Sera?!" Lucifer asked, panic quickly filling his voice.
"Oh, know you remember your (Son/Daughter/Child). To put it simply, they will not be going with you Lucifer," Sera said. " They will be staying up here in heaven."
"Yuu? Y-You Can't Do That!" Lucifer shouted as he approached Sera, but the chain slacked short of her. "You Can't just take them from me! I know full well they're not safe in Heaven!"
"So leaving them alone for days on end, in heaven was safe?" Sera challenged. “Or letting them go to Hell with you is safer?”
"You know What I mean Sera. The Elders never accept them then, why know?!" Lucifer shouted back.
“Yuu will be under my care. I promise you they will be kept out of harms way,” Sera promised, as Lucifer continued to fight against his chains.
“Just let me see them. Let me hold them one last time!” Lucifer begged as the chains pulled him closer to the portal.
But before Sera could say anything, Lilith’s screams could be as she fell down into the portal.
“Lilith!!” Lucifer screamed, without hesitation jumped into the portal after her.
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Sera sat nervesly in once’s Lucifer’s garden as Yuu brought tea and treats as they always did. As Yuu chatted on and one, the dreaded question finally arrived.
“Da hasn’t come back in a long while… Miss Sera, where is he?” Yuu asked with a worried smile.
With a deep breath, Sera gently explained to little Yuu what had happened. And what Lucifer had done on earth and how his actions had brought a horrible curse onto the earth.
“Are you Okay Yuu?” Sera asked gently.
“I-I think so. So Da is in time out? I can visit?” Yuu asked.
“I’m afraid not little one,” Sera said sadly.
“Oh, so I can see him again when his time-out is over?” Yuu asked again.
Sera slowly shook her head, as Yuu slowly started to crumble.
"So I'm never going to see him again?" Yuu asked shakily.
"I'm afraid so," Sera nodded.
"He promised me," Yuu whimpered to themselves. "Why would he lie to me. He Promised to stay out of trouble."
Sera looked on with sorrow in her eyes, as she slowly reached out to comfort them.
"Can... Can I be alone a bit?" Yuu sobs as they run back into the house.
Sera worried for the small child, quietly followed after them. Yuu ran into the house as they felt something within them. Something wanted to burst out, but it only intensified as more tears forced themselves to the surface.
This was a foreign feeling they had never felt before, and it was growing. Yuu didn't know what to do with this feeling and knowledge as they stomped about the house.
'Why did he lie? Why didn't he wait for me? Why did he leave me for the Earth?' questions flooded Yuu's mind. "Maybe because I wasn't enough."
With that though Yuu came to a halt. Was it because they couldn't give him the planet he wanted fast enough? They looked at Lucifer's once workbench. To see that the World Jar was still untouched, and most importantly. A framed Photo family of Lucifer and Yuu.
To be continued.
Tag-----------
littleladydemon
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