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star-my · 4 months ago
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Whyyyyy do you write these lil snippets so fluffy and so angsty 😭😭😭😭😭 they're so good but they hurt me 😭😭😭
like that (3tan) (m) | myg
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drabble: like that | chapter: dalo pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: the second time you ask yoongi what else he prefers in the bedroom. and his answer has something to do with his hair. warnings: cursing, dirty talk, slight angst, much fluff lol, hair pulling (yoongi’s lmao), penetration, protected sex, multiple orgasms, choking (with chains😀😀😀), a lot of hair tugging lol, cowgirl, spanking, rough sex, this yoongi is a ha ha x10, sl*t mentions, titty shots<33, reader is so fcking cute :’)), yoongi says smth that made me screeeeam, breast play, cunnilingus, fingering, yoongi is a fcking menace, but so is reader >:)), i love them ok note: this takes place during a timeskip in dalo! if you haven’t read that chapter or any of the three tangerines series yet, i highly recommend reading those first! it will make so much more sense lol note 2: thank you to @sugakookitty​​​ once again for being an angel beta on such short notice! for everyone, this literally happened bc of this post so it’s everyone’s fault lmaooo.. but it was so fun to write. i hope this makes up for the heartbreak we just went through :’))) happy pride and remember what this month is truly for<33  mood: put u on - danileigh word count: 6.5k release date: june 1st, 2022, 9:17pm est
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Huh?
When did you fall asleep?
What time is it? 
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thewritingrowlet · 7 months ago
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The Vacation Trip, ft. tripleS Xinyu, Nakyoung
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tags: creampie, anal, anal creampie, daddy kink, rough
length: almost 8k
author's note: I'm a Seoyeon bias, bro, how did I end up writing so much of others? Anyway, this is the continuation of The Outing Trip. I decided to write a "sequel" that takes place after the events of The Outing Trip because I'm not ready to end it just yet.
p.s. I will be writing the follow-up to The Loving Wife soon; please look forward to it.
“Baby, we need to sleep soon; we’re leaving early in the morning”, you say to Xinyu, who presses you against the wall as soon as you enter the apartment. “I trust you to wake us up”, Xinyu says before pressing her lips on yours. Xinyu sleeps very well after having sex but struggles to wake up in the morning after, so the fact that she wants to have sex tonight is concerning; you need to pick up Nakyoung before 6 am tomorrow morning and head to the bus station after. “Huh? Kim Nakyoung?”, the voice in your head asks. Yes, Nakyoung, your official side girl who’s been an extra by your side ever since you got back from the outing trip―Xinyu approves of this, just so we’re clear.
“Oppa, you’re not cooperating”, Xinyu complains, “give me your tongue”. You comply to Xinyu’s demand and stick your tongue in her mouth. Xinyu fights your tongue with hers, occasionally letting you win. You shake off other thoughts and decide to play along. You clamp your lips on her tongue and squeeze, surprising Xinyu, who lets out a moan as a response. Xinyu finally breaks the tangle to catch her breath. “Oppa, what the fuck was that?”, Xinyu breathes heavily, “that was so fucking hot”.
You carry her in your arms and take her to the bedroom. “If you can’t wake up on time tomorrow morning, I’m locking you in the apartment”, you threaten her. Xinyu scoffs, “oh, please, you don’t know who I am and what I’m capable of”. Well, you know who Xinyu is and what she’s capable of, which is sleeping in and then waking up at the last minute—you’ll be making her pack a backpack after this so that neither of you will have to worry about it tomorrow should she wake up late. “Sure, baby, whatever you say”, you lift your T-shirt over your head, “are we doing this, or no?”.
Xinyu tells you to get naked entirely before she takes off her clothes. “Oppa, look at me, please”, Xinyu steps away from you while making sure you’re looking at her body. As soon as she unbuttons her shirt, you see the white lace bra she has on, and your hand automatically moves towards your erect cock. Xinyu giggles at you, “you haven’t even seen the whole thing yet, oppa”. “You need to be quick, baby; I can’t fucking wait any more”, you say, your hand busy stroking your cock. You can tell that Xinyu also can’t wait to start the action, but her slender fingers struggle to unbutton her jeans. “Fuck, this is embarrassing”, Xinyu pouts, “oppa, help”. You chuckle as you move to help her, “next time just don’t bother buttoning your pants, hm?”.
Now that Xinyu’s free of her restraining jeans, you can see the matching panties that have a wet spot on them. “Aww, you’re wet”, you touch her over the panties, “on a scale of one to ten, how horny are you, babe?”. Xinyu throws her head back, enjoying the warmup, “a-ah—fi-fifteen”. You pull Xinyu into your lap, your cock hovering above her stomach. You’re aware of how long you are, but the image of touching her cervix with the tip of your cock still gets you every time. “If one day we decide to have kids, oppa, you’ll have no trouble getting me pregnant”, Xinyu says, “now fuck me, please”.
You move Xinyu to the middle of the bed and put her legs on your shoulders—one issue, though: her knees and thighs are closed. “Is something wrong, cutie?”, you ask. Xinyu lifts her butt off the bed and spreads her legs, “you see that, oppa?”. You look down and see a shiny round thing between her cheeks, “is that a plug? Where did you get that?”. “I borrowed it from Nakyoung-ie”, Xinyu says, “I’ve been training my ass so that I can give you my cherry since you weren’t my first”. You’ve never asked Xinyu to train her ass, and you’ve told her that you don’t mind not being her first, so you’re not sure why she has decided to do all this. “Where did this come from, hon? Who talked you into this?”, you interrogate her. Xinyu holds your hands, “Nakyoung-ie looked like she was on cloud nine when you fucked her ass, so I’m curious. Would you fuck me in the ass as well, oppa? You’ll be the first and last person to do so”. You take a deep breath, “sure, if you really want to—but remember this: if I see that you’re in pain, I’m pulling out”.
Xinyu agrees to your terms and shows you her wet entrance, “first things first, oppa”. You guide your cock into her pussy, and Xinyu instantly lets out a soft, whiny moan. “Ah, daddy”, she says softly, “always so good, daddy—fuck”. Making Xinyu scream when in bed is nice and all, but having Xinyu speak and moan softly during sex makes you feel full of love. “Baby, fuck”, you let out a low moan, “I love you so much”. Xinyu pulls you towards her, “I love you too, oppa. You’re always so kind to me”. You chuckle slightly, “I can say the same about you, baby”. Xinyu smiles and pulls you into a kiss, breaking it every odd second to let out moans.
You start moving your hips faster, and Xinyu guides your head towards her neck. “Mark me, oppa; I want to show off to Nakyoung-ie tomorrow”, she says, tilting her head slightly to show you the desired area. You wordlessly grant her request, latching your lips on Xinyu’s neck and start planting hickeys. You notice that Xinyu is starting to breathe faster, and you’d like to think that what you’re doing is satisfactory. “Oppa, I love you so much”, Xinyu says, her chest rising and coming back down repeatedly, “mark me, oppa; make people know that I belong to you”. You’re trying your best to multitask, as you can’t let the tempo of your pumps go down while you’re busy marking Xinyu.
It is when Xinyu announces that she’s close that you stop being a neck painter and straighten your posture. “Let’s cum together, baby”, you say to her. You fold Xinyu in half, pressing her legs against her torso, and turn up the pace. You see her lewd aroused face in between her knees: her mouth is wide open, and her tongue is sticking out, as if trying to lick something. You bring a thumb towards her tongue, and Xinyu starts licking it as if it was your cock.
“Fuck, I’m about to bust”, you murmur. Xinyu retreats from your mouth and lets out a scream. Unlike the resort, your bedroom is soundproofed quite well, so Xinyu can scream until her voice disappears if she wants to. The two of you reach your peak at the same time; you send your load deep into Xinyu, while her entire body shakes violently. “You’re always so good, love”, you praise her as you straighten her legs, “I love you so much”. Xinyu doesn’t say anything back as she’s still busy squirming around, basking in her high. “I-I love you too, oppa”, Xinyu weakly rolls onto her stomach, “I’m out of energy, fuck—let’s save the ass-taking for next time, oppa”.
-
You wake up before your alarm has the chance to ring. When you look to your left, you see that Xinyu is still sleeping rather peacefully. “Love you, babe”, you whisper to her before pecking her exposed forehead. After collecting your consciousness and strength, you get off the bed and walk out of the bedroom.
You can tell by the phone light that someone is lying on the sofa. Whoever is lying on the sofa hears you, “oh, you’re awake—good morning, oppa”. You let out a sigh of relief, “oh, it’s you. What are you doing here this early, Nakyoung-ah?”. Nakyoung walks up to you and pecks you on the lips, “just wanted to make sure you don’t leave without me”. You return the favor and peck her on the lips, “can I entertain you with something?”. Nakyoung points at your morning wood, “can I help you with that, oppa?”. Since Nakyoung is your official side chick, you don’t feel like you’re betraying Xinyu the same way you did with Dahyun. “Yeah, sure”, you take Nakyoung’s hand and walk towards the sofa with her.
Before sitting down, you pull your shorts and boxers down to give Nakyoung access to your erect cock. Nakyoung ties her hair in a bun, thus indirectly showing off her perky tits to you, before getting on her knees. “Thanks for the meal”, Nakyoung licks her lips before taking you in her mouth. “Don’t go too hard; this is still very early”, you say to her. Since her mouth is full, Nakyoung can only hum in response.
Nakyoung starts going down on your shaft, taking her time to make sure she doesn’t choke on it. You stroke the side of her head gently, “you’re such a good girl, sweetie”. Nakyoung has expressed her desire to be called by pet names, but she tends to get overexcited when she hears it. “There’s no need to rush, sweetie; we have time”, you remind her, just in time to stifle her excitement.
“Oppa, cum soon, please. I’m getting tired”, Nakyoung says, snapping you out of your blissful reverie. “I’m pretty close, sweetie”, as soon as you say that, you hear the bedroom door swing open; Xinyu has managed to wake up without help. “Good morning, baby”, you greet the partially awake zombie. Xinyu slowly walks towards the sofa and rests her head on your thigh, not bothering with questioning anything. So here you are: your girlfriend is sleeping on your thigh and her best friend is kneeling in front of you with your cock in her mouth.
In order to get out of this, uh, predicament, you first ask Nakyoung to stop sucking you. You then move Xinyu so that she lies flat on the sofa—earning a grunt of annoyance from her—and puts your shorts and boxers back on. Lastly, you return Xinyu to her previous position and have her put her head on your thigh. Since the sofa doesn’t allow for two people to lie on it at the same time, Nakyoung resorts to resting her head against your other leg. “Girls, we have to leave soon”, you hate to break it to them, but it’s true; the bus will leave at 6:45 and you must be there before 6:15 tops. “Tell that to your sleepy girlfriend. I’m already wide awake”, Nakyoung defends herself.
You guess that Xinyu needs help getting ready, so you get up from the sofa and carry her to the bathroom for a shower. You make her sit on the toilet and kneel in front of her. “Babe, wake up, please”, you say in a calm tone. To your surprise, Xinyu opens her eyes right away; “I am fully awake, oppa. I just wanted to make sure you’d take care of me”. Xinyu straightens her posture and asks you to help her undress. You unbutton her pajama from the top, “oh, I almost forgot—I love you, baby”. While Xinyu is looking away to hide her blush, you continue unbuttoning her top until you can free her from it. “Fuck, you’re so hot, babe”, you comment, “shame that we don’t have that much time; we could’ve had some fun”. “My heart will explode if you keep saying these sweet things, oppa”, Xinyu pulls down her pants, thus getting fully naked and ready for shower.
You join her in the shower after getting naked, and that is when Xinyu starts teasing you. She keeps touching your cock every now and then and pretends to apologize for “accidentally” touching you. “Babe, I was serious when I said that we don’t have much time. I promise I will entertain all your antics once we get to the resort”, you remind her. Xinyu leans forward and nibbles the side of your neck, “I can tell you’re horny, oppa”. Well, there’s nowhere to hide now, “yeah, I am pretty damn horny right now—I mean, shit, look at you; you’re so hot”.
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“Remind me where we’re going?”, Nakyoung asks as the three of you walk to find your bus. “The resort where we had our outing trip at”, you see the bus a few meters in front of you, “that’s ours, let’s go”. You approach the bus crew and show him the QR code on your phone. “I know this name”, he says, looking back and forth between you and your name, “you’re from that university, aren’t you?”. You show him a chill face, “that’s true, mister. Now we’re going back there for vacation”. He turns his attention and glances at Xinyu and Nakyoung, “well, it looks like you’re going to have a lot of fun”. “Well, that’s the plan—thanks!”, you say.
You get on the bus after the guy scans your QR code. You tell the girls to sit next to each other and “sacrifice” yourself to sit behind them—most likely with a stranger—since it’ll be safer this way, and obviously they agree. Not long after sitting down, you see more and more people start filling the empty seats behind you. Even after the bus driver has gotten in his seat and started the engine, the seat next to you remains empty. “I guess no one is traveling alone”, you think to yourself. As soon as the bus starts rolling, Xinyu hands you a picture of you and her, “so you don’t forget about me”. You want to laugh but a part of you thinks that this gesture has a deeper meaning, so you simply take the picture and thank her.
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The bus has gotten on the ferry, which means passengers can get off, just like last time. When you check on the girls, you see that Nakyoung is sleeping and leaning against the window, while Xinyu is listening to music on her headphones. When Xinyu sees you, you gesture to her to follow you off the bus.
You walk with her to the top deck to stretch your legs and get some air. “I have a feeling you want to talk about something”, Xinyu says. “That is true”, you say, so Xinyu moves to lean on the railings next to you. “This love triangle happened with your consent, but I want to ask how you’re feeling about us right now”, you start. Xinyu gazes at the blue sea in front of her as she forms her answer. “Honestly, I feel like you’re starting to forget me, oppa”, Xinyu answers, “this morning wasn’t the first time Nakyoung-ie touched you before me, was it? I guess the whole point is that I’m starting to get jealous”. You subconsciously rub your cheek, as if feeling the pain from Xinyu’s slap from that time. “I’m sorry, love; it was never my intention to put Nakyoung-ie before you” are all you can come up with. “I know”, Xinyu sighs deeply, “just… don’t forget about me, please, oppa”.
“Oh, there you are”, you hear Nakyoung’s voice behind you. You turn around with Xinyu and wrap an arm around her before turning your attention to Nakyoung, “did you sleep well?”. Nakyoung stops a few steps in front of you, “are you two okay?”. You peck Xinyu’s temple quickly, “we had something to talk about, and I think we’re now okay”. Xinyu wasn’t satisfied with a quick peck, so she moves in front of you and comes in for a kiss, subtly reminding Nakyoung that you’re hers. “I love you so fucking much, oppa—you have no idea”, Xinyu says to you, serving as a reminder of her feelings for you. You put a palm on the side of Xinyu’s neck, “I’m marking you tonight, babe”.
Xinyu rolls her eyes when she hears Nakyoung clear her throat behind her. “I won’t forget about you, Naky-yah”, Xinyu turns around and shows Nakyoung a smiling face—a simple front that Nakyoung should be able to see through. Deep inside, you’re worried; what if you’re the cause of a ruined friendship? That would be disastrous, wouldn’t it? Wait, it was Xinyu’s idea to share you with her best friend, wasn’t it? You have all these questions but nothing but time can answer them for you.
-
“Welcome to—wait, I know you”, the same reception desk staff recognizes the three of you, “thank you for coming back, guys”. “It’s nice to be back, miss”, you shake her hand over the desk. You proceed to show her the booking info on your phone, and after cross-checking it with her computer, the staff hands you two keycards—you booked two rooms to “hide” the fact that you’ll be sleeping with two girls. “Keep it down when you do it, okay?”, the staff winks at you, and you feel your cheeks start getting red from embarrassment. “Th-thank you”, you timidly grab the keycards from her before walking away with Xinyu and Nakyoung.
“So, what will we do after this?”, Xinyu asks as she walks next to you towards your room. “109, 111—oh, here, 115 and 117!”, you ignore Xinyu momentarily as you read the room numbers, “one second, sweetie”. You hand Nakyoung the extra keycard and tell her to go in her room while you try and get in yours. After hearing the door unlock, you pull Xinyu by her wrist and enter with her. You close the door behind you—you make sure Nakyoung can’t disturb you for now—and lean against it. “Babe”, you turn her face towards you, “I love you so fucking much”. Xinyu giggles as her cheeks start turning red, “that was so random, oppa”.
You lift Xinyu by her thighs and carry her towards the bed for some intimacy. “Fuck, I wish I knew other ways to express love other than sex—I’m sorry for being such a boring person, baby”, you admit your cluelessness. Xinyu puts her hands on either side of your face—her hands feel particularly soft today. “I mean, I’m horny for you 24/7, oppa”, Xinyu giggles cutely. You were about to start undressing when you heard your stomach rumble. “Let’s get something to eat, babe; we can’t have sex on an empty stomach”, you say to Xinyu while pulling her onto her feet. Instead of walking towards the door, however, Xinyu opts to hug you tightly. “Oppa, I love you soooo, soooo much. Please don’t forget that”, she says in a small, soft voice. “I was about to say how could I ever forget but I remembered that I literally cheated on you”, you chuckle, amused by your terrible, cherry-picking memory, “no, babe; I will never forget how much you love me”.
Xinyu pulls away from the hug with a smile on her face, but she hasn’t had enough of you just yet. “Your first load is mine, oppa”, she demands with an alluring lick on the lips. “If we weren’t in college, I wouldn’t bother with the pills”, Xinyu piles on, and admittedly, you’re very tempted. “Babe, let’s not be reckless”, you try to stay solid. “Don’t lie to yourself, oppa”, Xinyu smirks naughtily, “we both know we want it—just say the word and I’m yours”. You shut your eyes tightly; it’s very hard to not waver right now, but you—and Xinyu—know that it’s simply too risky and irresponsible. You take a deep breath as you think that you’ve found the perfect reply for her. “Love, I promise that we’ll talk about this one day—y’know, when we’re in a much more comfortable situation and so on”, you hope that Xinyu accepts this reply, because you’re stumped and can’t come up with anything better than this. Xinyu pecks you once and follows it up with a giggle, “sure, oppa”.
-
You break the kiss when you hear someone knock; “fucking shit timing”. Xinyu pinches your cheek softly, “it was your idea to have food sent here, oppa”. You take a deep breath to calm yourself down, “yeah, I know—come, let’s eat”. You close your eyes and walk around the room a little bit to lull your boner before answering the door. You take the plates from the staff’s hands and put them on the table. “One chicken cordon bleu for you, and one tenderloin steak for me”, you move Xinyu’s plate closer to her and start eating right away.
When you look to the side, you see that Xinyu is already halfway through her meal. “Eat faster, oppa. We have things to do”, she comments on your eating speed. “Fuck this shit”, you put down your utensils and start undressing, unable to hold your horniness back. Seeing you undress makes Xinyu want to follow suit, so she stops eating and takes off her clothes. “Oppa, fuck me—fuck, I want you so fucking bad”, Xinyu begs, as if it’s not clear as day already. You ask her if she wants to suck your cock first, but she firmly declines. “I want you somewhere else”, she says.
Xinyu pushes you onto the bed with all her strength. Sure, she’s not that strong compared to you, but your dramatization is enough to boost her confidence—you’re like a lion and Xinyu is your cub. Xinyu presses down on your wrists that are sitting idle next to your head, “you’ve fucked me countless times, but it’s now my turn to fuck you”. Seeing Xinyu be dominant arouses you beyond help, “fuck me, baby. Show me what you can do”. Xinyu moves her hips around and welcomes you in with ease. “Look, daddy; no hands—ow, fuck”, she yelps, overwhelmed by her own overexcitement.
Xinyu chants your name as she bounces on your cock. “I’m so lucky”, she says with troubled breaths, “you’re so fucking big, daddy”. You’d think that she has gotten used to your size at this point, but you welcome her effort to inflate your ego with open arms nonetheless. You know Xinyu can’t multitask when she’s impaled by your cock, and you can feel her grip on your wrists loosening. You free your wrists easily and pull her down to you, as you’re eager to become a neck painter again. “Yes, yes, fuck—mark me, daddy”, Xinyu eggs you on. Having your lips on her neck excites Xinyu even more, as proven by how she picks up the pace.
“I’m so close already, daddy—how am I so close already, fuck”, she announces to you. You decide to help her cum by matching her pace and meet her in the middle. “Let’s go, baby; let’s cum”, you groan, “fuck, you’re so good at this”. Xinyu removes you from her pussy with a scream, and you feel her juice splashing on your cock and thighs. “Fuck, what a good girl”, you praise her. Xinyu presses her face against your chest and screams more as she rides the high of orgasm until the end. To your surprise, Xinyu plants her teeth into your chest. “Babe, that hurts”, you grit your teeth in pain, “please, babe”. “Sorry, oppa; I just didn’t feel like screaming too loudly”, she says. Xinyu chuckles and points at the teeth mark, “I guess that’s my new mark”.
You don’t bother waiting for Xinyu to calm down and roll over until you’re on top. “You’ve had your fun, haven’t you?”, you move your face close to hers, “my turn now”. Xinyu tries to halt you, but since you’re impatient (and she did not say her safe word), you ignore her. You start thrusting into Xinyu at a high pace, and you see Xinyu’s eyes start rolling towards the back. You want to make sure the stimulation is maximized, so you latch your lips onto one of her tits and play with it. You retaliate against her for biting you in the chest by (lightly) biting her nipple, and Xinyu responds by screaming. “We’re even now”, you chuckle, “fuck, you’re so tight, babe”.
“Babe, babe”, you try to get her attention, “I’m so close”. Xinyu, in her highly stimulated state, weakly sticks out her tongue as if asking for a kiss, so you do as she asks. Now that you’re close to her face, you can hear her quiet moans. “Daddy, please”, she whispers between moans, “in-inside”. That’s as explicit of a consent as it gets, and you don’t bother asking twice. “Oh, fuck”, you let out a low moan as you release your first load of the day deep into Xinyu, granting her wish from earlier. “I love you so much, daddy”, she weakly says. “I love you more, baby girl”, you reply.
You gather your strength and lift Xinyu up while making sure you don’t pull out of her pussy. “W-where are we going?”, Xinyu’s battery is very low right now, and her voice is barely audible. “I don’t want to make a mess on the bed, babe”, you carry her towards the bathroom where she can safely leak out the excess cum. You sit on the toilet and pull Xinyu off your cock, and unsurprisingly, cum starts dripping out. “Let’s shower while we’re here, babe”, you tell her. “I’m going to need some help with that—I can’t feel my legs”, she replies.
You gently put her down on the floor right under the shower and get to her eye level. “Thank you for the cum, oppa”, Xinyu says with a smile, her eyes barely open. “The pleasure is mine, sweetie”, you pet her head, “you’re always so good”. You leave her sitting on the floor to get the soap and shampoo from the cabinet, and that is when you hear Xinyu scream. In a moment of shock, you see that she’s touching herself while squirting hard; her legs are shaking, and her eyes are rolling backwards again. “Yellow, yellow! Daddy, please; yellow!”, Xinyu chants her safe word in panic when she sees you approaching. “Baby, baby, hey”, you soothe her, “we’re done, babe; there’s nothing to worry about”. You pull Xinyu into a hug, “you’re okay, baby—we’re okay. I won’t hurt you”.
You notice that her breathing gradually calms down and returns to its normal pace. “I-I’m sorry, oppa; I just couldn’t take more”, Xinyu says. You reject her apology because there’s nothing to be sorry for to start with; “let’s get cleaned up, hey?”.  You pull Xinyu onto her feet and have her lean against the wall, “I hope your legs are strong enough to support you, babe”. “I hope so too”, she sighs, “how do you do this to me all the time, oppa?”. “Excuse me, babe”, you start running your soapy hands on her body, “yeah, I mean, I’m just me. It’s you that react so well to everything I do”.
-
As you’re walking out of the bathroom with Xinyu in your arms, you hear someone knock at the door. When you look through the peephole, you see that it’s Nakyoung. “One second!”, you yell out. You put Xinyu down on the bed and put on your shorts and boxers before opening the door. “Hi there”, you greet Nakyoung as she enters your room. “Oppa, I’m hungry”, Nakyoung whines, “buy me food, please”. You walk away from Nakyoung to help Xinyu get dressed up. “You can get room service if you want”, you say to Nakyoung as you’re tending to Xinyu. Xinyu then points at Nakyoung while giggling, and when you turn around, you see that she’s eating your and Xinyu’s leftovers. “Are you sure you want to eat that?”, you ask. “Eh, I don’t see why not”, Nakyoung shrugs, and you’re left with no choice but to let her do what she wants.
While Nakyoung is busy finishing your food, you pull Xinyu into your arms for a warm cuddle. “I love you, darling”, you whisper to Xinyu. “I love you more, oppa”, she whispers back with a cute smile on her face. You put a hand on the small of her back and start petting her; “God, you’re so beautiful, baby”. “Xinyu hides her pink cheeks by tucking her head under your chin, “th-thank you, oppa—I swear, you’re so random sometimes”. You quickly glance at Nakyoung and see that she’s still busy eating/being on her phone, so you let her be until she announces that she wants something else.
-
You open your eyes slowly as your soul returns to you. Three of your senses confirm Xinyu’s presence, and it helps put your mind at ease since you have a habit of panicking when you wake up without Xinyu. “Babe?”, you lightly slap her butt to get her attention. Xinyu lets out grunts and hums as she gathers her consciousness. “What?”, she weakly asks. “Let’s wake up, babe; save the sleep for later, hm?”, you point at the clock, “don’t you want to get dinner?”. “Help me wake up”, she says, but instead of letting go of the cuddle, she wraps her limbs more tightly around you.
You try spraying kisses on her head, but Xinyu doesn’t budge. You try offering to have sex after dinner, but Xinyu still doesn’t budge. You resort to your last trick, “okay, fine. I’ll just have dinner with Nakyoung-ie”. Triggered, Xinyu moves to sit on your lap and chokes you with both hands, “the fuck did you just say?”. “I-I’m sorry”, you hold her forearms and try to free yourself from her grip, “ugh—ba-babe, p-please”. Xinyu lets go of your neck and delivers a warning, “do not say such thing again. It’s already hard enough for me to share you with her—I’m not letting her steal you from me”. You close your eyes as you try and control your breathing, “I-I’m sorry, baby. I-I just wanted to ha-have dinner with you—fuck—I-I didn’t mean to offend you”. Xinyu rubs your cheeks gently as a gesture of apology, “I’m sorry, oppa. I didn’t mean to choke you like that—I was triggered, though”.
After getting yourself together, you sit on the edge of the bed and ask Xinyu to sit on your lap. “Baby, were you serious about that? You hate sharing me with Nakyoung-ie?”, you ask. Xinyu nods while looking away, “I thought it would be fun but now I just get jealous more than anything”. “Do you want to talk about this with her?”, you offer her a solution. “What if she leaves us? I don’t want to lose a friend”, she argues. “I think she’ll understand”, you argue, “if she chooses to leave us, then let her—if I were to choose, I’d choose you over her”. Xinyu goes silent as she considers your idea. “Fine”, she sighs, “just not tonight, oppa. We already came all the way here; let’s not ruin the mood for her and ourselves”. You smile and pull her in for a kiss to remind her that she’s your number one. “Let’s have dinner, babe”.
-
Xinyu moves her chair closer to you so that she can lean against your shoulder. “Oppa, I’m so sorry for hurting you”, she whispers while taking your hands in hers. “Hurting me?”, you realize that she’s referring to choking you earlier, “oh, it’s okay. It was wrong of me to say such thing—didn’t know you had it in you like that, though”. Xinyu keeps on spamming you with apologies, and you patiently reply to each one with “it’s okay, baby”. “Babe, look”, you point at the waiter who is on his way to your table, “our food is here”.
Your food is indeed here, and so is Nakyoung, as you see over the waiter’s shoulders that she’s walking towards you. “Hi”, she waves, seemingly in low spirits, “having dinner?”. You invite her to take a seat at your table, “are you okay? You look a bit down”. Nakyoung imitates Xinyu: she moves her chair closer to you and leans against your other shoulder. “I’m not feeling well and you’re ignoring me”, she complains, “can I not have you for a moment? Xinyu-yah, can I be with oppa for a bit?”. You take a quick look at Xinyu and see that she’s giving you a nod of approval. “We’ll go to your room after this, okay? Go order something, sweetie”, you say to Nakyoung, and she walks towards the register with heavy steps to order something for herself.
You and Xinyu start eating first since your food is already on the table. Nakyoung, who hasn’t had enough of you yet, wraps her arms around the lower part of your torso and tucks her head somewhere between your chest and abdomen. You try to guess Xinyu’s feelings by observing her facial expressions, and you see that she has a neutral face on right now; “this should be okay”, you think to yourself. You’re not entirely satisfied with your assessment, so you pick up some spaghetti from your plate and guide it towards Xinyu’s lips. “Choo-choo, baby”, you say as your spoon gets closer to her mouth. “Oh, it’s working!”, you say internally as Xinyu takes the food from your spoon and munches with a smile on her face.
-
You stop in front of Nakyoung’s room and exchange farewells with Xinyu; “I’ll see you tomorrow, baby”. Xinyu nods and tells you to take care of Nakyoung and help her feel better. “Of course, love”, you say with a smile that says, “I understand my duty”. Xinyu returns the smile to you before going in her (your) room.
You enter Nakyoung’s room with her after having her unlock it, and as soon as you’re in, you lift Nakyoung by her butt and carry her to the bed. “How are you feeling, sweetie?”, you ask her. “Two things, oppa”, Nakyoung puts up two fingers in front of you, “I want attention, and I’m horny”. You smile lovingly, “let’s tackle one issue at a time, hm?”.
You move to the middle of the bed and pull her into a seated cuddle. You notice that Nakyoung is pouting; “oppa, do something”. “Before we do anything, I need to ask”, you hold her chin and turn her face towards you, “why did you choose to be my side chick? We both know you deserve to be someone’s number one”. Nakyoung takes your hand and moves it to her cheek, rubbing her face against it like a cat. “Why would I be someone’s number one when being your number two gets me everything I want?”, she says. You’re not sure what she meant by that, so you ask her to explain. “First and foremost, you are kind and respectful to me”, she starts, “secondly, you know how to use your cock—that’s all I want right now”. “Yeah, but like, I can’t give you undivided attention because I have Xinyu”, you argue. Nakyoung shrugs, “I’ve been your third wheel for so long, I’ve gotten used to not having your full attention”.
You’re not sure how to react to that, thus staying silent as you try and think about it. “If you’re still having doubt, oppa, we can talk about it”, she says. “One day, sweeheart—not today”, you say with a smile, “you said you want attention? What kind?”. Nakyoung tightens her arms and legs around you, “stay with me tonight, oppa; we can have sex later if you want. I’ll return you to your girlfriend tomorrow morning”. “A little correction, if I may”, you say in a soft tone, “you’re the one who controls the sex, not me. If you’re not in the mood, we don’t have to—there’s no issue with that, you know”. “Sure, whatever you say”, she chuckles, “see what I mean? Always so respectful, especially when it comes to sex”.
As you move to lie down with Nakyoung, your brain starts wondering how you got this mindset, and your best guess is it came from your parents. You’ve seen how your dad treats your mom with respect and kindness when you were growing up, and that’s probably how your brain picked up the lesson. “I know that look”, Nakyoung says, “you’re thinking about something”. You blink rapidly to turn your focus back on her, “uh, yeah. I was just thinking about my parents”. She tilts her head in confusion, “what about them?”. You sigh, “I hope they’re proud of how I’ve turned out as a man”. She puts her head on your chest, “I’m sure they are; you are a good person. I mean, shit, look at Xinyu: she’s been so loyal to you because of who you are as her boyfriend—well, your little oopsie with Dahyun-ie was your first fuck-up of the relationship”. “Oh, right, Seo Dahyun”, you think to yourself, “I need to make it right with her one day”.
-
“Fuck, who am I kidding?”, Nakyoung straddles you quickly, “oppa, I want you”. “Huh?”, you were ready to go to sleep, but the narrator had other plans, “excuse me?”. Nakyoung slaps you, “sorry for that, but you need to get your head in the game”. Nakyoung takes off her T-shirt and tosses it over her head. “Touch me, oppa”, she grabs your hands and places them on her covered tits. Even behind bra, Nakyoung’s tits are very soft. As you’re playing with her tits, Nakyoung starts humping your crotch. Yearning for more stimulation, she takes off her bra and throws it away; “more, oppa”. You pinch her erect nipples, “is this your idea of attention?”. Nakyoung nods, “fuck, I want your cock so bad”.
Earlier, you’ve made it clear to her that she’s the one who controls the sex, and since she’s now made it clear that she wants to have sex, then what option do you have other than to oblige? “If you want something, cookie, come get it”, you tease her. Nakyoung responds by sloppily dragging your joggers off your legs, revealing the boxers underneath it. She moves down so that her face hovers over your crotch, “may I, oppa?”. You give her your approval in the form of an encouraging nod, so Nakyoung grabs the waistband and pulls down hard. “Look at you”, she starts stroking your cock, “so hard and big—all for me”.
Nakyoung parts her lips and takes you in her mouth, and you can’t help but sink your head into the pillow. “Fuck, so good”, you murmur. Nakyoung asks for your attention by tapping the side of your thigh, and when you look down, you see that she’s gradually going down on your cock while maintaining eye contact. You’re getting impatient, but like you’ve said earlier, she controls the sex—not just the “when”, but also the “how”. You let praises fly out of your lips, hoping that they’ll rile her up more, and it seems to be working. She face-fucks herself rapidly, ignoring the risk of choking on your cock. You pet the side of her head, “you’re doing great, baby—oh, fuck”.
You’re surprised when Nakyoung decides to let you go from her mouth. “No, don’t cum yet; I want it somewhere else”, she says. “Yeah? Where?”, you ask, getting impatient. She asks you to get off the bed before getting on her hands and knees. “In my ass, please”, Nakyoung says, wiggling her butt left and right to tempt you. You don’t want to hurt her, “do you have lube?”. She shakes her head, “I don’t care if it hurts—I’m yours anyway”.
Your cock is already coated by her spit, so you use yours to lube her rear entrance. Nakyoung jolts in surprise, “oh, fuck, I thought that was your cock”. You ask her one more time if she’s sure, but she still doesn’t falter. You spread her cheeks to reveal your target. Before you start, you ask Nakyoung what her safe word is, to which she replies that she doesn’t need one. “Fuck me, please”, she says. You place a finger on her asshole and rub it in circles before slowly penetrating her rear with it. “Fuck, why wouldn’t you just fuck me?”, Nakyoung airs her annoyance. You pull out your finger out of her ass, “you want to get fucked? Fine, let’s do it”.
You spread her ass with one hand and use the other to guide your cock towards her asshole. Nakyoung starts panting when your tip touches her. “If you want to back out, say it now”, you warn, ready to force your way into her forbidden hole. “Do it”, Nakyoung whispers as she braces for the pain. You’re not that experienced in anal sex, but you know that nervousness doesn’t help with penetration. You pull Nakyoung’s torso towards you and into a sitting position. You then grab her chin and come in for a kiss. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt that much”, you assure her, and she seems to be reacting well to your words.
Nakyoung shows you the green light once again in the form of spreading her cheeks for you, and now that your target is clearly in sight, you’re ready to start. You grab your cock and push forward until the tip is in, earning grunts of pain from Nakyoung. “Relax, baby—fuck, you’re so tight”, the sensation her rear is giving you makes you groan, but you don’t want to stop here; you grab Nakyoung’s waist and pull her down so that more of your shaft enters her ass. “Ngh, ngh”, Nakyoung can only groan as her muscles are stretched by your girth. “Oh, God, you’re so deep in me, daddy”, she finally manages to say something after your shaft is almost entirely inside her.
Nakyoung understands that she can’t scream out loud, so she falls face first onto the pillow and uses it to muffle her noises. “Ahng—I-I’m ready”, she says with troubled breaths, “fuck-fuck me”. You make sure your posture is perfect for doggy, and for good measure, you slap her butt a few times, “I’m going”. Once Nakyoung is face down on the pillow, you start pulling back from her ass until only your tip is inside. You hear Nakyoung say something into the pillow, so you lean forward to check if she said her safe word, “what’s that, baby?”. She lifts her face off the pillow and pecks you on the lips, “fuck me, daddy; make me take it—gape me”. You smile naughtily in response, “bet”.
You return to your previous posture and slap her ass a few times, “I’m going again, baby”. Nakyoung scrunches her face in pain, “oh, fuck, my ass—p-please be gentle”. You give her a nod before pushing deeper into her overwhelming tightness; “fuck, this must hurt for you”. “Fuck, fuck!”, Nakyoung screams in pain, “I-I—fuck, just-just make me take it!”. You’re not sure what is causing her to be so determined, but since she’s still consenting to this, it’s in your best interest to keep playing along; “if you say so”.
“I wonder what it’ll be like if I go fast”, a reckless thought enters your mind, “only one way to find out”. Driven by said recklessness, you plant your knees into the bed and hold Nakyoung by the waist, “be good, baby”. “Huh? OH, FU—“, Nakyoung bites the pillow to suppress her scream—you’re fucking her asshole as if it were her pussy: fast and deep. “Fuck, this is crazy”, you comment with a grunt, “how are you taking me like this?”. If Nakyoung’s face wasn’t flat against the pillow, her screams would be heard all the way to the reception desk. You lean forward to whisper in her ear, “hah, fuck—how are you feeling, baby?”. Nakyoung lifts her face slightly, and you see that tears are running down her face. “It hurts, daddy—fuck, it hurts so bad”, Nakyoung says weakly, “I love it”. You pause your thrusts due to the shock, “you love it? Did I hear that right?”. Nakyoung doubles down on it with a smirk, “I love taking you in my ass, daddy”.
��She’s in pain but she said she loves it—ah, fuck it; let’s keep going”, you throw the last bits of doubt out the window and continue fucking her ass, eager to get an orgasm from it. “I’m not pulling out, by the way”, you say to her. Nakyoung straightens her back and leans against your body, “c-can we change position, daddy? I-I want to see you—please!”. You agree to her request and pull out momentarily to switch to missionary—oh, my, it’s so tight! “Like this, baby?”, you hover over her and ask to make sure that this position is satisfactory. Nakyoung grabs your chin and pulls your face towards her for a deep kiss. You try pulling away, but she chases you and invades your mouth space with her tongue.
After having had enough of you, Nakyoung breaks the kiss with a gasp. “Oppa, listen to me, please”, she takes a deep breath to calm herself down after the kiss, “I’m submitting myself to you”. You blink rapidly, acting like you were confused, “excuse me?”. Nakyoung puts on a pout when she sees that you didn’t pick it up the first time. “I hate you sometimes”, she huffs, “I said I’m submitting myself to you—I belong to you now”. You know where she’s going with this, but surely it doesn’t hurt to act like a fool every now and then; “but you’ve been by my side for a while now, no?”, you ask with a straight face. She swaps her pout with a frown, “you’re not cooperating right now, seriously—tell me, which part of it do you not understand?”.
You sneakily move a hand towards her tits and pinch a nipple, thus earning a gasp from Nakyoung, “oh, I understand, baby—I was just playing”. “I hate you”, Nakyoung gasps again when you pinch her other nipple, “f-fuck me again, please”. Ass-to-pussy doesn’t sound too hygienic, so you return to her ass, which welcomes you more easily than before. “Yes, daddy, yes”, she sticks her tongue out very lewdly, “I’m yours, I’m yours—fuck, I’m your bitch”. Hearing her refer to herself like that stuns you for a millisecond, but your guess is that it was the heat of the moment (or the heat in her ass) that caused her to say that.
“I think I’m close”, you announce to her while still maintaining a consistent pace of thrusts. “I want to cum with you, daddy—oh, God, my ass”, Nakyoung puts a hand on her pussy and starts touching herself, aiming to cum together with you. You grab her ankles and put them on each shoulder as you put your back into fucking her properly. She uses her free hand to cover her mouth in case orgasm hits.
“FUCK!”, you exclaim as you bury your cock deep in her rear and blow your second load into her. In the moment of drowsiness, you feel Nakyoung’s juice hitting you in the pelvis. “Heh, heheh”, Nakyoung laughs weakly, “Xinyu is missing out”. You shake your head rapidly to regain focus, “really? You still have the energy to think about Xinyu?”. Nakyoung doesn’t answer, and instead asks you to pull out of her ass. “Oh, fuck, finally”, she sighs in relief, “how does it look, daddy?”.
You move backwards a bit to inspect your work; “gaped—you’re so fucking gaped”.
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ineffable-xenanigans · 3 months ago
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A Mouthful of Blessings (4/6)
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Aziraphale snapped his fingers, applying a minor miracle to both the oysters and the ox ribs so that they’d stay at a safe temperature for an indefinite amount of time. This might take a while, after all, and it would be unbecoming to let their lovely dinner spoil in the interim.
Continue reading Chapter 4: Flood on AO3!
Also: I'M A DEMON, I LIED. This chapter was supposed to go up tomorrow, but I finished the illustration and couldn't help myself. Also yayyyyyyy we finally got to have some proper smut 😈
Speaking of illustrations and smut, you'll encounter the full NSFW image as you read on AO3, hehehe. But here's another snippet, as a treat.
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Vintage underwear inspo a bit later, just click on Keep reading :D
If you haven't come across this fic before, you could also just start reading A Mouthful of Blessings from the beginning...
Rating: E Length: 6 chapters (8k words) Summary:
This story starts, as it will end, with a prayer. In Chapter 1, we learn that angels can hear the prayers that name them. In Chapter 6, Crowley uses this knowledge for good and evil; in other words, so he can dirty-talk Aziraphale while his mouth is otherwise occupied. What happens in between? A whole lot of things, actually, including but not limited to: love confessions, crying, laughing, suggestive oyster shucking, and a flood.
The remaining chapters will be released tomorrow and the day after tomorrow!
Tag list (let me know if you wanna be added!)
@snognes @naturallyteal @eybefioro @ineffablyruined @ineffably-queer-book-lover
🎨 only: @good-omens-gallery
🌶 only: @goodomensafterdark
As I mentioned in this post, I had a hard time deciding what kind of undergarments I wanted to put Aziraphale in. After some discussions on Tumblr and Discord, I ended up going with a style that was apparently popular between the 1930s and 50s (actual fashion historians, please correct me if I'm wrong).
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Source: vintagedancer.com/1930s/1930s-mens-underwear-history
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Source: vintagedancer.com/1940s/1940s-mens-underwear
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Source: vintagedancer.com/1950s/1950s-mens-underwear-history
Those aren't the only images I looked at, but I think those sources are quite nice because they show you a lot of the variety going on back then.
I just liked the details of the curved waist on the front and the snaps on the back :3 oh, and there's supposed to be a couple of seams back there, but I didn't draw them because I was too lazy *coughs* I couldn't get them to look nice in this particular pose *chokes* I made the deliberate artistic choice to keep his undies simple to match the tablecloth, of course.
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quaranmine · 1 year ago
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also, chapter 11 is currently around 12,100 words making it by far the longest chapter of the story
i wrote over 1k last night and while i will have to go reread this to make sure it's....acceptable, i am like. one step extremely closer to finishing chapter 11 because i basically did All the hard part last night :0 like the stuff i was hung up on for a while
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justagalwhowrites · 1 year ago
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New in Town - Ch. 6: First Make Up
You and Joel come to an understanding. A continuation of New in Town chapters 1-5 found on Tumblr here.
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Pairing: Best Friend's Dad!Joel Miller x Female Reader
CW: Angst. Smut, alcoholism, child neglect (mentioned, not thoroughly described.) No use of Y/N. Age gap (reader is 35 Joel is 47, not a focus of the fic). Minors DNI, 18+ only
Length: 8k
AO3 | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Last Thursday
Shit. 
Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. 
Shit. 
“It’s so good to see you!” His smile was broad and looked genuine, not that you really bought it. He hugged you and your arms hung limply at your sides for a moment before you lifted a hand and patted him lightly on the back. “Missed you like crazy!” 
He pulled back from you and looked you up and down. 
“Why don’t you look happy to see me?” 
Because you weren’t. 
“Just shocked,” you said. “What are you doing here?” 
“I can’t just stop by and see you when I’m in town?” He was damn near pouting. You tried not to roll your eyes. He was 53 goddamn years old and he was pouting. But that wasn’t a surprise, you were pretty sure he’d stopped maturing at 18. “You can come see me whenever you’d like, don’t need to call or anything, not that you ever do…” 
“Oh, that’s rich,” you snapped before the glint of the sun off the glass door of your office building caught your eye. The client you were taking to lunch was heading right for the reception desk. You closed your eyes for a second and sighed. “Look, I don’t have time for… whatever it is you’re showing up here about.” 
“I can’t just come to see my best girl?” 
He was all but pouting again. 
“We both know that’s not why you’re here,” you said. “Sit here, in the lobby, until I get back from this meeting. Don’t talk to anyone, don’t touch anything, we can talk about this when I’m done.” 
“You really think I’m going to make that big a mess in, what, an hour?” He raised his eyebrows at you. You glared back. 
“Wouldn’t be the first time. I mean it, Dad. Just… Don’t fuck something up. Please.” 
“Angel,” he took your shoulders in his hands. “It’s going to be different this time. I mean it. Go to your meeting, I’ll be here when you’re done.” 
Different this time. Sure. That was the chorus you’d heard again and again, every three years or so when he popped out of the woodwork and managed to track you down again. This time he had his shit together, this time he had a job he was just about to start, this time he was sober and going to stay that way. And every time he managed to blow at least part of your life up. 
You heard your name being called from reception and you pasted a smile on your face, heading to greet your client, trying not to think about the fact that your dad had managed track you down yet again. 
The lunch went surprisingly well, considering the fact that your brain was busy running through every damn scenario possible for why your dad had decided to show up and every way he could find to fuck your life up this time. 
To his credit, he was sitting on the couch in the lobby, scrolling through his phone when you got back. He didn’t even notice you come in. You went to reception and Norah, the woman working the desk that day, confirmed that he’d sat there quietly for the two hours you were gone. 
You sighed. Maybe he was going to make an effort this time. There was a first time for everything, you supposed. 
“Alright,” you said and he looked up from his phone and smiled. “I have a few more things to take care of today, think you can behave yourself while I work?” 
“You realize you’re the kid and I’m the parent, right?” He asked, getting up. 
“Don’t know why that should start now,” you muttered, leading the way to the elevator. 
He didn’t say anything back. Which you reluctantly gave him credit for. You’d been trying go goad him into it, antagonize him and push him into snapping so you could wash your hands of him. Apparently, he wasn’t going to let you.
You pulled out your phone when you got to your desk, your dad settling into a chair in the corner, pulling out his own phone and silently returning to it. You watched him for a moment. 
To say your relationship with your father was complicated was putting it pretty fucking mildly. He’d never been in your life in any meaningful way. He came and went like the seasons did, eventually even adopting a similar regularity. 
He cropped up every three years or so now and, since the last time you saw him had been before you moved to Seattle, you were due for him showing up and running roughshod over your life. 
In past visits, he’d emptied your bank account, invited some “old friends” over who ended up being random men he’d met at a bar who then trashed your apartment, showed up to an event at your office so drunk that he threw up on another guest. 
Every time, he claimed he wanted to see you. Spend time with his “best girl” (only girl - he had no other children and no woman would have him for longer than a few days), catch up on everything he’d missed when he was busy fucking around, moving from couch to couch until wore out his welcome, burning every bridge at every job he’d ever had. 
No, you didn’t trust your father as you could fucking throw him. And you sure as hell didn’t want him anywhere near Joel. 
That relationship was too new to bring him into the shit show that was your family, the stuff you tried so hard to hide that you all but lied about even having family to begin with. When talking to Joel about it, you’d just shrugged and said “No siblings, my parents have been gone for a while, no other family to speak of.” 
You knew what he’d assume with the word “gone.” The same thing everyone else did: that they were dead. They weren’t. They were very much alive, they were just dead to you. Your mother was in Wisconsin, your father was… wherever the fuck he happened to be at the time. Which, right now, was Austin. In your office. And you had the sickening feeling that, if he actually knew Joel existed, he’d find a way to ruin it. 
You sighed and texted Joel. 
“So sorry, something came up at work. Can’t see you tonight.” 
It technically wasn’t even a lie. Something had come up. And that something had come up at your work. 
It still felt like a lie, though, and it turned your stomach to lie to Joel. Even though you knew the best, safest option was to keep him far, far away from that part of your life. Your phone buzzed. 
“Shit happens. I’ll miss you. Tomorrow night?” 
Fuck, you wanted to be able to see him tomorrow night. Your thumb hovered over the keyboard for a moment. You wanted to be able to say “Yes, absolutely, I’m going to need you to fuck whatever is about to come up with my dad out of my head so I don’t go insane. Also, I think I’m falling in love with you but let’s talk about that later.” 
Instead, you set your phone down again. 
You answered a few emails, sent the details of the potential contract you’d secured with the client at lunch over to that department, reviewed some copy that your team was slated to present to clients early next week. Your dad sat in the chair, not saying a word, just as you asked. You stalled as long as you could before you turned in your desk chair to face him. You put your head in your hands for a moment, pressing your fingers into the hollows over your eyes before you sighed and folded your arms in front of you. 
“Alright,” you said. “What are you doing here.” 
He put his phone down on the small table and smiled a little at you. 
“Meant what I said before,” he said. “Missed you, Angel. Wanted to see you, spend some time with you…” 
“How did you even know where I was?” You cut him off. 
“I called your mom last week,” he said. “She said you’d moved here, that you had some fancy job down this way. She was real proud of you…” 
“So that’s why you’re here?” You asked, brows raised. “Think you can get something out of my ‘fancy job’?” 
“No, Angel, of course not,” he actually looked hurt by it. As though he hadn’t stolen thousands from you just six years ago. “Look, I know that I haven’t been the best father.”
“That’s an understatement.” 
He ignored your comment. 
“But I’m doing better now,” he said. “I really am. I was in prison for a bit…” 
“You what?” You demanded, sitting forward in your seat. “Jesus Christ, Dad, what did you do?” 
“Same shit I usually do,” he smiled a little, sheepishly. “Staying with a friend and I… uh… helped myself to some of the cash they had lying around. They weren’t thrilled with that so they called the cops.” 
“Shit,” you sat back in your chair and closed your eyes for a second, taking a deep breath, before looking at him again. “So what happened, did you have a good attorney?” 
“Nah, just a public defender,” he waved you off. “She was a nice lady but didn’t exactly have much time for my case. I pled out, got myself two years…” 
“You could have called,” you said. “I could have helped you, I went to school with some people who became pretty fucking good attorneys…” 
“I didn’t want to bother you,” he said. 
“Never stopped you before.” 
He ignored that, too. 
“It ended up being good for me,” he said. “A blessing, really. Being inside forced me to actually sober up. For real this time. Haven’t had a drink in 27 months.” 
You raised your eyebrows.
“Good for you,” you said, not even sarcastically. 
“Got my GED too,” he said, sitting up a little straighter. “I know it’s late in life but I want to try and do something right. Get a real job, actually do something with myself. Maybe pay you back, even though I know it won’t make up for all the shit I’ve put you through over… well, your whole life.” 
You nodded slowly. 
“So are you just out or are you on probation?” You asked. 
“Probation,” he said, wincing slightly. “Actually told my probation officer that I’d be staying with my kid…” 
And there it was.
“Jesus Christ,” you muttered. “You can’t just…” 
“I know,” he said. You ignored him. 
“Remember that time, when I was 10 and Aunt Sue dropped me off at your place for what was supposed to be your weekend?” You snapped. “And you and all your buddies were so off your ass drunk and high that I ended up going to a neighbor’s house to see if they had food because I hadn’t eaten in two days? Because I sure fucking do, if you think I owe you something, that I’m going to baby sit you because you knocked my mom up…” 
“I don’t,” he said quickly. “I know that. I do.” 
“Do you?” You asked. “Because it sure seems like you think you can just come in here and fuck up my life on a whim and you think I’m just going to let you!” 
Your email dinged and you sighed, going back to your computer. One of your copywriters had a question about a client and you tried to focus on reviewing the creative brief before responding and going back to your dad. You took a deep, calming breath. 
“What is it you want.” 
“What I’d like,” he said slowly. “Is to stay with you for a little bit while I find a job. It’s OK if you don’t want that, Angel, it really is. But I’d like to get to know you. Actually get to know you. But I’ll call my probation officer and tell him right now that I’m going to need another place to go, it’s OK. He’ll help me figure it out, he’s a good guy. I’m not trying to be your responsibility. It’s a little late to try to be your dad. But I’d like to be something to you.” 
You just looked at him for a moment. He seemed so… genuine. Actually sincere. And he didn’t smell like liquor or look strung out. 
You sighed. 
“Alright,” you said. “You can stay with me for a bit. Just through the weekend to start, no promises after that.” 
He smiled. 
“I’d really like that.” 
You took your dad home with you that night, picking up tacos on the way to your apartment. You’d gotten a two bedroom place, at least. Not because you ever had guests - you never had guests - but because you worked from home sometimes and you wanted the office space. At least the couch you’d bought for that room was a sleeper sofa. 
You texted Joel again while your dad was in the shower, hating that you weren’t going to see him tomorrow, either. But if your dad was actually doing well, actually going to try and be a functional adult you could have a real relationship with, you owed it to him to try. 
Still. 
You didn’t trust him. Not yet. Especially not with something like Joel. 
 It was kind of surreal, having him in your apartment, doing anything but looking for a way to fuck you over. Consciously, you knew that’s not what it had always been. He’d often started with good intentions. You knew he didn’t set out trying to steal from you or embarrass you in front of your coworkers. He just didn’t know how to function in the life you lived. No one from your childhood did. He’d try, for a few days, and then he’d fall back into old habits. 
But this time was different. Or seemed different, at least. You hoped it was different. 
You watched a movie with him - Spaceballs, something he loved to watch with you on the rare occasions he was around enough to do things like watch movies with you when you were a kid - and he told you a bit about everything that had happened in the three years since you’d last seen him. 
For a change, he seemed genuinely interested in what you’d been doing since then, too. He’d never even known that you were in Seattle - something that you found oddly comforting but strange all at once. Strange that this person who made up half of who you were was so distant that he didn’t know where you’d lived two years of your life. That if something had happened to you, he wouldn’t have known. Something had happened to him. You hadn’t known that, either. You weren’t sure if you regretted that or not. 
“I do have to work tomorrow,” you said as you wound down for the evening. “Do you have a plan or anything you need?” 
“Just wanted to look for some jobs,” he said. “If I could use a computer? The phone makes it hard to fill out applications. Don’t think I’ll need to go anywhere.” 
“Sure,” you said, trying not to look surprised. “You can use my laptop, no problem.” 
You set up a profile for him on your computer and made sure yours was password protected. And you reset the password so it couldn’t be something he would know - Joel0926. Just in case. 
Joel texted you before you woke up - “Good morning, Beautiful. Hope your day isn’t too rough and that you’re taking care of yourself.” - and you wanted to tell him everything. All of it, all about your dad, all about where you came from, all about what you’d gone through to make it this far. 
But he liked the person you’d made him think you were. What if he didn’t like this other version of you? What if your dad just took off in a few days and you risked blowing up everything with Joel for nothing? 
 “Thanks,” you wrote back, with a heart emoji. You sighed. He deserved better than this. But you weren’t sure how to give that to him, not right now. 
All day at work, part of you was worried that you’d come home to find your apartment trashed or everything with any value gone with your father nowhere to be found. 
Instead, he was in your kitchen, cursing quietly. You frowned and followed the sound, a slightly burned smell on the air. 
“Dad?” You frowned, setting your tote bag on the counter as he bent over the oven. He jumped a little before straightening. He smiled sheepishly. 
“Hey Angel. How was your day?” 
“Fine,” you said. “What are you doing?” 
“I… well…” he looked down at a glass baking dish that was more blackened than anything else. “I figured you’d probably had a long day and since you’re letting me stay here, thought I’d try to cook and I found a recipe online but I haven’t really cooked before…” 
You went over and looked down into the pan with an almost amused frown. 
“What even is it?” 
“Well… I was gonna try and make a deep dish pizza,” he said. “You like that, I think, right? You went to school in Chicago, right?”
You smiled a little. 
“How about I just order us pizza?” You said, having to swallow past a knot in your throat.  
He looked relieved. 
“Yeah,” he laughed. “Probably smart.” 
You helped him apply for jobs through the weekend and were almost surprised to be settling into a pattern with him early into the next week. It was an odd role reversal, teaching your dad how to function in the real world. The one where people had jobs and bills and didn’t hop from friend’s place to friend’s place instead of having an actual home address. 
But you weren’t confident enough to actually tell Joel any of it. You were still dodging him. Telling him about your dad opened the door to telling him about everything else from your younger years, things you’d worked hard to not have to share with anyone. Next week. If your dad was still around, still keeping his shit together, still trying to be in your life, then you would tell Joel. And, if he still liked you, you’d tell your dad about him. 
Though that seemed like a big if. 
Wednesday, you started questioning things. 
Joel wasn’t texting as much. Not that you blamed him, you’d barely responded to him at all, not sure what to say but not wanting to lie to him. But you missed the texts. They were the bright spot in your day. You missed him. You wanted to go to his house and drag him to his bed and ride him until you were both sweaty and exhausted. You wanted to kiss him in a noisy bar that smelled like stale beer while you were tipsy. You wanted to call him on your way home from work so you could vent to each other and, by the time you came home to him, just hold each other until you had to move to figure out food. 
You missed him because he was the first person you’d been close enough to that you might need to tell them about all of it and that terrified you. So maybe you were looking for problems when you got home after work and found your dad on the couch, watching sports. 
“Hey Angel,” he smiled. 
“Hey,” you sighed, dropping your bag by the door and stepping out of your heels before you flopped on the couch next to him. He hugged you and kissed your check. You frowned. “Have you been drinking?” 
“What?” He laughed, looking at you like you were crazy. 
“You smell like alcohol.” 
“Angel,” he laughed. “It’s 5:30.” 
“So?” 
“No,” he said. “I haven’t been drinking. I did use some Listerine a little while ago, ate some sour cream and onion chips, didn’t want to knock you out with my breath.” 
“OK,” you said, still skeptical. “How was your day?” 
“Good,” he said. “I think I have an interview for next week, can you help me respond to the recruiter? I’m shit at writing things and not sounding like an idiot.” 
“Sure,” you laughed a little. “Do you have job interview clothes?” 
“What d’you mean?” He frowned, looking over at you. 
“I mean you can’t show up to a job interview in jeans and a t-shirt, Dad,” you said. “Do you have like… a button down and khakis at least?” 
“Don’t exactly got much,” he laughed a little. “Sure it’s fine, just a factory job…” 
“We’ll go shopping when I get off work Friday,” you said. “I’ve got a late call with the west coast team tomorrow, I’ll be at the office late.” 
“Honey, I can’t afford…” he began but you cut him off. 
“I can,” you said. “Don’t worry about it.” 
There was a knot of guilt in your stomach after accusing him of drinking, after he was making such an effort. But you checked the levels on your liquor bottles before you went to bed all the same. 
But by Friday, you were feeling good about how things were going. There was a routine in your life, one that involved your father for the first time ever. It looked like he was serious about settling down in the area, applying for jobs and setting up interviews. Besides Wednesday’s blip, things seemed stable and you couldn’t stay away from Joel any more. 
When he texted you Friday morning asking how things were going and if you’d be free again sometime soon, you took a deep breath and texted back. 
“Hoping by Sunday,” you said. 
By Sunday, you’d feel like telling him about your dad and everything else was worth the risk. Unless everything blew up. In which case, who cares. 
You just hoped he’d still be interested, especially after you’d all but blown him off all week.
You took your dad to the mall that night, him modeling the dress pants and button downs for you, coming out of the fitting room looking a little unsure but a small smile on his face all the same. 
“Feel like we should be doing the reverse of this,” he said, putting an arm around your shoulders. “If I’d done what I shoulda done years ago, I could have taken you shopping when you were a teenager and you could have showed me shit like prom dresses and I could buy you something you needed, not the other way around.” 
“Yeah, well,” you shrugged and smiled a little. “I’m just glad we get to do this now.” 
He smiled and kissed your temple. 
“Me too, Angel,” he gave you a squeeze. “Me too.” 
You went by H-E-B on the way home to get a few things for the weekend and started to go grab a bottle of wine and a six pack when you stopped yourself. Your dad laughed a little. 
“Just because I’m not drinking doesn’t mean you can’t drink,” he said. “It’s fine. I can handle it.” 
“You’re sure?” You frowned. 
“I’m sure.” 
So you got the beer and a bottle of red wine - one from the winery Joel had taken you to on your first date, something that made you smile - and got steaks. Getting to see Joel again soon, your dad lining up a job interview, things actually going well between the two of you for the first time in your life. It felt like a reason to make something nice. 
Your dad went to put his new clothes and shoes away while you started dinner and you decided to make yourself a cocktail. It was going to be a good weekend. You could feel it. 
You made a Tom Collins and had just melted butter in your skillet to baste the steaks when you took your first sip. 
It was watery. 
So watery it didn’t taste like there was liquor in it at all. 
Your hand shook as you set the glass down and you went to the liquor cupboard and took out the gin. You sniffed the bottle and smelled almost nothing. No familiar burn or hint of pine. You took a sip straight from the bottle to test it. It didn’t matter that you were putting your lips on it. You knew you wouldn’t need to save it. 
It was water. Straight water. 
You clenched your jaw and swallowed past the burning tightness in your throat. You weren’t about to cry. Not in front of him. 
“Hey Angel,” he said, coming out from his room in sweats. He froze when he saw what was in your hands. “Oh, shit, I…” 
“Thought you were sober,” your voice shook. “Thought you wanted me in your life.” 
“I do, Honey, I really do, but…” 
“But you just couldn’t keep yourself from getting fucked up every day?” You were going to cry. You were going to cry in front of this fucking asshole because you cared. He’d made you actually care, you’d fallen for his bullshit yet again and it was your own goddamn fault. “Jesus Christ, were you really going to go get a job working with heavy equipment and show up every day drunk off your ass until you killed someone?” 
“I know my limits,” he was defensive. “I know what I can handle and sometimes I just work better with a little alcohol in my system, that’s all I’ve been doing, that’s…” 
“This was damn near full when you got here,” you slammed the bottle on your counter. “You’ve been here a week. A fucking week and you drank through an entire fifth of gin, that’s not a little alcohol, Dad, that’s getting hammered every goddamn day.” 
You pulled the pan off the stove and threw it in your sink with too much force before turning off the burner. You leaned against the counter for a moment, your fingers pressed so hard into the granite it seemed like they should be denting it. 
“I want you gone,” you said. 
“Angel…” 
“I mean it,” you spun to face him. “I want you out. I don’t care where you go, I don’t care if you end up back in fucking prison because you lied to your parole officer, I don’t care if you drop dead. I want you gone, I never want to see you again, I want you to get the fuck out of my life.” 
You shoved past him and went to your room, locking the door behind you. You curled up on your bed and let yourself cry. 
You wished your father had never found you here. You wished you’d been smart enough to not fall for his shit this time around, You wished you didn’t want a connection with him, want just a shadow of what Sarah had with Joel because being on your own in the world with no ties to anything hurt almost as much as suffering your family’s bullshit did. 
But, most of all, you wished Joel was here. You wished you could curl up against him and that he would hold you while you cried. You wished he’d tell you that you weren’t fucking stupid, that it made sense that you wanted a relationship with the man who’d done nothing but fuck you over your entire life, that everything was going to be OK and that he cared about you in spite of it all. 
You heard your front door close and you stayed on the bed, hoping that he’d actually listen to you and not come back. You’d need to get the locks changed, check the browser history on your laptop to see if he’d gotten into any of your bank accounts or credit cards, look through your apartment and make sure he hadn’t stashed drugs somewhere and forgotten about them. Fuck, why had you been so stupid? 
The sound of the crash outside jerked you out of your head. It was loud enough that the building shook a little, the endless horn after the crash impossible to ignore, and you got up, going for your front door. 
Outside, outlined by the setting sun, was your car wrapped around a lamp post. 
“Dad!” You yelled, running for the smoking heap of metal. He was slumped over the steering wheel and you ripped the door open, checking his pulse. His eyes fluttered open as you did, looking confused. 
“What…” 
“You decided to steal my car this time,” you said. 
“Oh, shit, I…” 
“Save it,” you snapped as a neighbor ran outside, cell phone pressed to her ear. 
You ended up at the hospital with him most of the night. By the time the police were able to test him for alcohol, it was all out of his system. He hadn’t had a drink since you’d picked him up to go to the mall that evening. You weren’t sure if you should be grateful or if you wished he’d failed the test so he’d end up back in prison and far away from you. 
He was mostly fine, just a little banged up and a broken nose from the airbag. Your car was totaled. 
In the back of the Uber to your place after hours in the ER, you looked at him. 
“You’re gone,” you said. “By noon. Otherwise, I call the cops and you can deal with them.” 
He just nodded down at his hands. 
The next morning, you ordered him an Uber to the bus station. He tried to talk to you but you just sat on the couch, holding your coffee cup, pretending you were alone. 
“I know I fucked it all up,” he said, standing in your doorway “But I really did like spending time with you this week. I…” 
Your phone dinged, saying the driver had arrived. 
“Your ride is here,” you said, not bothering to look at him. 
“OK.” 
He stood there and you felt his eyes on you for another moment before he turned and left. You sank back into your couch and rested your forehead in your hand for a moment, trying not to cry. Again. Because fuck, this man did not deserve it. 
And then there was the knock on your door. 
“Are you fucking kidding me,” you set your mug down so hard that coffee sloshed over the side and onto the table. You stalked toward the door, cell phone in your hand. You were going to call the cops on him this time, you really fucking were. “I swear to God if you forgot something you’re not coming back in…”
But it wasn’t your dad standing there. 
“Joel,” you fought the urge to throw your arms around his neck and cry against him. He didn’t really look like himself, he looked upset. Hurt, angry, something. You frowned. “What are you…” 
“Can I come in?” His voice was strained. You just nodded. “Think we need to talk.” 
*** 
Your place looked the same. 
It was strange, almost. Like there should be some indication of this other man here, something different about it but it was the same. 
“Can I get you anything?” You asked. Your voice was thick. “I have coffee…” 
“No thanks,” he said. “Don’t know how long I’ll be stayin’.” 
“Oh,” you deflated a little. “Alright… What did you want to talk about? Because…” 
“I thought we were on the same page,” he said, cutting you off again. He felt like a dick doing it but he had to get this out, if he didn’t it felt like he was going to burst with it and if he stood here too close to you for too long he wouldn’t do it. He’d just kiss you and wind up in your bed and be stuck in this sickening limbo he’d been trapped in for a week now. “I really did. We never talked about it, not really, but I thought…” 
“I thought we were, too,” you frowned, looking confused. “I don’t…” 
“You said you deleted your dating apps,” Joel said, his voice becoming a little heated. He took a breath. “You said you weren’t fucking anyone else, sure made it sound like you weren’t lookin’ for anything else, like you wanted to actually see where this would go, what this could be and… fuck, I believed that! 
“You made me think it was OK to feel something for you,” he pressed on, standing in your living room with you in front of him, your arms crossed over your body and you looked so small, curving in on yourself like you were trying to disappear. And so much of him wanted to just grab you and hold you and tell you that everything was going to be OK but how could he promise that if you couldn’t even fucking agree on what you were to each other. “So I let myself feel it, I let myself start to fall in love with you and then you go fuckin’ silent on me. You don’t text me first and what you do send is basically nothin’, you never call and then I see you at the mall after you tell me you’re too busy to see me with some guy wrapped around you and that same fuckin’ guy is leavin’ your apartment this morning! I mean, fuck, if I was just some damn fling for you that’s fine but could you at least tell me? Not act like I meant somethin’ to ya?” 
Joel was out of breath, his hands on his hips. He couldn’t look at you, not when you looked so sad it was like someone had hit you and he was still so mad, anyway. 
“That was my dad,” you said softly. 
Joel looked at you. 
“What?” 
“The man,” you closed your eyes for a second before you took a deep breath and opened them again. “At the mall, last night. Leaving my place this morning. That was my dad.” 
“You said your parents were dead.” 
“No,” you shook your head. “I said they were gone and they are, from my life. Except when my dad pulls this stunt where he crawls out of the woodwork every few years.” 
He just stood there, staring at you for a moment. 
“Want to sit down?” 
He nodded and followed you to the couch. He sat down first and you sat on the opposite end of it, as far away from him as you could be. 
“You knew I thought they were dead,” he said slowly. You nodded. “Why.” 
“Joel…” 
“You have to help me understand this, Beautiful,” his voice was calmer now. “Why would you let me believe a lie, I don’t…” 
“Because I’m trash, OK? I’m trash, Joel, that’s why,” you snapped. 
He frowned, shaking his head. 
“You’re not…” 
“Yes, I am,” you said, voice calmer. “Trailer trash, if you want to get technical about it, since I grew up in one. My dad knocked my mom up when she was 15 and he was 17, they were 15 and 18 when I was born. He took off right away and I grew up with my mom and one of her sisters because she was the only person in the family who didn’t disown my mother for getting pregnant at 15 and letting the dad run off. 
“They were shit parents. It’s not really their fault, they were kids, they didn’t know what they were doing but they were really bad at it. I started taking care of myself before I can really remember, I couldn’t rely on anybody. My dad was in and out of my life even then, he decided real quick that his fucking friends and alcohol and drugs were way more important than I ever was. I tried, for a long time, to matter to him. To both of them, really. But I couldn’t so… 
“I figured out that the only hope I had for not ending up like them was school. So I buckled down and did everything I could to be the best fucking student I could be. I took every AP class I could so I could get all the college credit I could manage before leaving high school, I got As in everything and I managed to get into a really good school.” 
You squared your jaw, determined, and kept going. 
“But good schools aren’t cheap and I had scholarships but they didn’t cover everything and it’s not like my parents were good for any of it. I didn’t want to take out loans. So I did the only thing I could find that would pay for the rest of school and pay the rent while letting me be free for classes during the day and I danced all four fucking years I was in school.” 
“Danced?” Joel frowned. 
You rolled your eyes. 
“I was a stripper, Joel,” you said. “I’m not ashamed of it, it kept me fed and out of debt, but I’m not about to put it on my fucking LinkedIn. And it’s because they were there for none of it, they didn’t do a damn thing to help me or support me or anything but every few years my dad shows up and finds new ways to fuck me over. He wiped out my savings account once, trashed my apartment with his buddies another time. This visit he had a pretty good con going, showed up to my office acting like he had his shit together when, really, he was doing the same fucking thing he always does, which is drink and fuck his life up. And when I found out, he stole my fucking car and wrapped it around a lamp post. Because he’s trash and I am, too…” 
“No, you’re not,” Joel said firmly. 
“Joel…” 
“You’re not,” he said. You were looking at him like you were about to cry. It made his chest hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this? Why didn’t I know any of this?” 
“Because everything that I am now?” You said. “Everything that you know and like about me? That’s all invented, I made it all up. I had to build myself from the ground up after I got away from that life. You liked the me that I built, Joel. The me who reads classic books and has an understanding of film theory and went to Northwestern. Why on Earth would you like the version of me who knew how to make ramen when she was four because that’s what she could reach in the cupboard or the me who took her clothes off to pay for college?” 
“Because I like you,” he said gently. “Don’t really care which version, so long as you’ll let me spend time with you.” 
All the hurt and the anger that had been swallowing him was gone now. In its place was this need to take care of you, to be something constant in your life in a way no one had been for you before, in a way you so desperately deserved. 
You shook your head. 
“That’s sweet, Joel,” you were choked up, eyes watery. “Really, it is, but you don’t mean that.” 
“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t mean,” he moved to the middle cushion of the couch. “The person you are now? The one who laughs at crappy movies with me and doesn’t know shit about wine and finds the best restaurants in town? She wouldn’t exist without the girl who had to figure out how to feed herself or the young woman who was so determined to get an education she worked her ass off to make it happen.
“I wasn’t jokin’ when I said I was falling in love with you, baby, and that means all of you. Even the parts you don’t like, even the parts I don’t know yet. I’m fallin’ for the whole package and I’m fallin’ pretty hard so I’m really hoping we’re on the same page on that.” 
You nodded quickly, tears actually falling now. 
“Yeah,” you said, still nodding. “Yeah, we are. We really fucking are.” 
You threw your arms around his neck and he pulled you against him, your face going into his chest as you cried against him. 
“I’m so sorry,” your voice was muffled by his shirt. “I should have just called you and talked to you, I was so scared of losing this, losing you, I just hid it all and I almost let him ruin the best thing that’s happened to me in so long and…” 
He shushed you.
“Don’t apologize,” his hand made a slow, gentle pattern from the crown of your head down your back, smoothing your hair down, tracing over your spine. “I’m sorry for assuming the worst, I’m sorry for making you think that anything about you would make me want to leave. I’m sorry for not just tellin’ you what you mean to me.” 
“Yeah?” You sniffed a little, pressed yourself closer to him. 
He kissed the top of your head. 
“Yeah,” he said. “Because if I’d just told you how I felt about you, you wouldn’t have been dealing with all this on your own. I could have helped. I want to help. So please, Beautiful. Let me help.” 
You looked up at him from your place against his chest. 
“Can you just hold me for a while?” You asked quietly. “I really missed you.” 
He kissed your forehead. 
“Of course, baby,” he said quietly. “I really missed you, too. So damn much.” 
You shifted so that you were all but on his lap and he held you close, just feeling you against him. It hurt to think about you so many years ago, having to go through shit on your own because none of the adults in your life stepped up to take care of you. It was hard to not picture Sarah as a little girl, what she would have looked like trying to fend for herself when she was four or five.  
It hurt, too, to realize that you’d been so alone this past week. That he’d been thinking about you and wanting to see you but hadn’t been someone safe for you to come to. He kissed the top of your head again, making a silent promise to himself that he’d never let you feel that way again. That he’d always be the person you came to first, with anything, even if all he could do was hold you through it. He wasn’t going to let you do it all alone, not anymore, not again. 
Your tears eased and you adjusted, nuzzling against him, your nose trailing over his throat. 
“Feeling better?” He asked quietly. 
“Yeah,” you nodded against him and pressed a long, gentle kiss to his neck. “Yeah, I am…” 
You kissed his neck again, your lips against his skin for a few seconds, your breath warm and soft. He groaned a little. 
“Don’t know if that’s such a great idea, Beautiful,” he pulled you back from him slightly and you frowned, your brows knitting together. 
“Why not?” 
“Just…” he adjusted himself so you wouldn’t see him starting to harden in his jeans. “Sounds like you’ve had a hell of a week and…” 
“But I want to,” you separated from him enough to pull your top up and over your head, casting it aside on the floor and leaving you in a lace bralette. “Please, Joel…” 
He wasn’t about to argue too much. He nudged you back on the couch so he could pull your pants and underwear off before he pulled his own down. Before he could even get them fully off you were on his lap, straddling him and pulling at his shirt until it was over his head and on the floor. 
Joel slipped his hands to your waist and slid them slowly, gently over your skin, exploring you, feeling you, until he reached the bralette. He pulled that up and over your head before tossing it to the ground and leaving you bare before him. 
“Fuck, beautiful,” he breathed, looking you over before kissing you deeply, his tongue teasing into your lips. “I missed you.”
“Missed you too,” you started grinding slowly against his lap, your wet slit brushing against his cock and making him shudder with desire. “Fuck, I wanted to talk with you so bad this week, Joel. You were all I really wanted and…” 
“You’ve got me,” he said quietly, kissing you again. “Don’t have to do it all alone ever again, Beautiful. Promise you don’t.” 
You nodded and squeezed your eyes shut for a moment before you rose up enough to notch his head against your dripping, grasping entrance. You dropped your forehead to his and your eyes met his own as you slowly, surely, sank onto his cock. 
He moaned as you took him completely, fighting to take deep, steady breaths. You felt so damn good around him and he couldn’t help but look down to see where the two of you were joined, his cock disappearing into you. The sight of you taking him into yourself, the way your body made room for him, how you felt around him made him acutely aware of just how close he was to you. He was a part of you like this and it felt like this was how it was supposed to be, you and him together. 
His hands ranged over you, up your back to pull you tightly to him and you gave a ragged, desperate little gasp. 
“I’ve got you, Beautiful,” he held you tightly to him as you held him inside yourself. “I’ve always got you.” 
You started to move over him then, every thrust of your hips delicious and slow, like you were savoring how he felt. You started to tighten around him and he groaned a little. 
“Missed you, Joel,” you breathed, your pace increasing. “So, so much.” 
You rode him and he was so lost in you he wasn’t sure how long he was clutching you to him, he was too far gone to notice. All he knew in the world was that you were his, that he could feel you so close it almost hurt, that he always wanted to be able to be with you like this. 
“I’m gonna come,” you panted, pressing yourself flush against him, dropping your head to his shoulder. “Fuck, Joel, you feel… I’m gonna come I can’t…” 
“Come on, baby,” he pressed his fingers into your flesh. “I’ve got you, I’ve always got you, want you to come for me. Come on my cock, baby, want to feel you, let me feel you.” 
You came with a strangled cry and stilled as your pussy fluttered around him. He fucked you through it, thrusting up into you three more times before the force of your orgasm was too much and he pushed himself in deep, moaning as he filled you. 
He held you like that, your bodies joined and aligned, for a while. Eventually, he relaxed his hold on you and you sat up a little, his cock softening within you. He reached a hand up and threaded his fingers in your hair, his palm against your cheek. 
“Next time somethin’ happens, how about we just talk it out,” he smiled a little. “Like this a whole lot more than not seeing you.” 
You laughed a little. 
“Yeah, Joel,” you smiled. “Next time, we’ll talk.” 
Next Chapter
A/N: Soooooooooo
I felt kinda bad leaving that cliffhanger out there two weeks in a row BUT now we have them on the same page :D and stuff is out there :D :D and they can move on to figuring out whether or not to tell Sarah :D :D :D
Don't forget that you can follow me and subscribe on my updates blog where I'll only reblog each new chapter once so you're not spammed.
I hope you all enjoyed this angsty little interlude in this story. I know I did! Thanks for being here <3 Love you!
Taglist: @fanficismydrug
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blondiest · 5 months ago
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out of curiosity
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epicbuddieficrecs · 1 year ago
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Epic Buddie Fic Rec | October 9th-15th 2023
Hey guys!
I'm trying to get back into the habit of making these recs every week. I've been working on a banner and it's not ready yet, but I didn't want to wait for it to be ready before making fic recs because procrastination = bad!! 😆 I hope you enjoy!
If you don't know me from my other fic rec blogs, I rec pretty much all the fics that I've read and that I've enjoyed in these recaps, but I put an emoji next to the ones that I liked just a liiiiiittle bit more 😉 For Stucky, I used blue hearts (💙), for Steddie I used black hearts (🖤), and for Buddie... well the decision wasn't too hard to make 😜
Complete
take me to the edge (then let me fall) by honestlydarkprincess/ @honestlydarkprincess (PWP | 1K | Explicit): Or, the one where Eddie edges Buck until he loses his mind all the while calling him a good boy.
🔥 but i can see all along, love (it was you all the way down) by diazchristopher/ @captain-hen (Post-S6, Time Loop | 28K Mature): He puts his laptop away after a bit, and paces the length of his apartment as he tries to take stock of the situation at hand. One: The date is March 22nd, 2024. Two: It has been March 22nd for 3 days now. Three: Buck is trapped in some kind of time loop that is forcing him to relive this day. Four: Eddie is, apparently, in love with him. And. And. Five: Buck doesn’t feel the same way.
🔥 still by brewrosemilk/ @gayhoediaz (Post-Season 6 AU, Near Death Experiences | 9K | Teen): “Your guess was correct, Diaz,” the bomb technician tells them, as he gestures to the orange circle. “You’re standing on a large sensor plate, wired to a detonator. It’s incredibly important that you don’t move. Don’t shift. When you put your weight down, it was like cocking a gun - you take your weight off, this thing is powerful enough to take the entire house with it."
to feel the need of your touch by honestlydarkprincess/ @honestlydarkprincess (PWP, Light BDSM, Post-Season 6 | 7K | Explicit): When Natalia had casually suggested they stay fuck buddies, at least until he got his shit together about Eddie, Buck had seriously considered it. But it just wasn’t what he wanted. So, he had said no and Natalia had understood, and that was that. And now, Buck was miserable. He was so sensitive. His skin felt like a live wire. Any and all touches he received started to feel like a shock to his system. Or, the one where Buck is touchstarved and desperate for Eddie. They fuck but it's also really sweet.
reassure me with your praise by honestlydarkprincess/ @honestlydarkprincess (PWP, Kinktober, Getting Together | 5K | Explicit): Or, the one where Buck is concerned he might be bad in bed and Eddie has a solution.
bet on it by honestlydarkprincess/ @honestlydarkprincess (PWP, Kinktober | 4K | Explicit): Or, the one where newly together Buck and Eddie make a bet to see who can last longer without sex. The bet lasts one day.
Something Dumb to Do by glorious_spoon/ @glorious-spoon (Friends to Lovers, First Time | 8K | Explicit): "Too bad we can't just date each other." Eddie laughs. "What?" "No, I'm serious!" Buck sets his beer down, the better to gesture with both hands, face lighting up, and Eddie just—he really loves the guy, okay. Ridiculous as he is. "It would be so much easier! You wouldn't have to introduce a new person to Chris—he already likes me anyway—and you could tell Pepa so she'll stop setting you up on dates that don't go anywhere—" "And what would you get out of this?" Eddie asks, grinning. - Or: Buck and Eddie try something out together.
hope is a sword by marcato/ @callaplums (Post-Season 6, Near-Death Experiences | 5K | Teen): Holy shit, Eddie loves him so much. He’s been so stupid, telling himself to wait for the right moment. What right fucking moment? It should have been yesterday, three weeks ago– hell, it should have been three years ago when he was telling his best friend about the goddamn will. It doesn’t matter right now, though. The only thing that matters is keeping as much of Buck’s blood inside his body as possible. One can only hope and wish and pray.
🔥 Four Can Keep a Secret by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-Season 6, Secret Relationship | 20K | Teen): When Ravi and Hen accidentally see Buck and Eddie, who are trying hard to keep their new relationship a secret, in the middle of a romantic moment, they try to make them confess without the rest of the station finding out. Shenanigans ensue.
early hours of yearning by brewrosemilk/ @gayhoediaz (PWP, Kinktober | 4K | Explicit): “You really wanna go again?" “Yes,” he confirms, gently scratching his teeth down the side of his neck, treasuring the deep moan he gets in response. “God, you’re fucking insatiable," he hears Eddie moan as he tilts his head back, giving Buck more space to work. “Doesn’t feel like you’re complaining."
how forever feels by icesculptures/ @ice-sculptures @athenagranted (Post-Season 6, Getting Together | 8K | General): Or: tired of the growing distance between them, Eddie asks Buck to dance at Maddie and Chimney's wedding, healing more than his own heart along the way.
WIP
Don't They Know It's the End of the World? by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Fallout 4 AU, Post-Apocalyptic | 4/14 | 7K | Mature | Warning: Violence): After being put in a cryogenic sleep for over a hundred years to wait out an apocalyptic event, Eddie Diaz wakes up, too early, to find his son has been stolen from his cryo-chamber. Scared and alone in a frightening world he doesn't recognize, Eddie is willing to do anything to get his kid back.
🔥 Nothing Left But You by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars ("Blip" AU | 8/9 | 24K | Teen | Warning: MCD): In May of 2021, 25% of Earth's population suddenly disappears. Including Eddie. In May of 2026, they all come back. Eddie finds himself suddenly in the middle of a world he doesn't recognize, where the people he loves most have changed significantly.
Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Demon Buck, Canon Divergent | 2/? | 4K | Teen): Buck is a demon with the power to help with pregnancy, childbirth, and infant health. When the Buckleys make a deal asking for someone to help 'save their baby', Buck leaps at the chance as it will give him what he's always wanted: a life on earth. But demon deals are tricky and neither of them gets quite what they're after. This is Buck's journey as he navigates growing up on earth and remembering how to help those in need.
🔥 for all the haunts and homes of men by euadnes/ @kananjarus (Canon Divergent, Post-Apocalyptic, Station Eleven Crossover | WIP | 10/? | 85K | Mature | Warning: Violence): The year by the old calendar is 2025. Home is gone. Home is a failed rescue mission and an echo of a memory. Home is a lost boy living in a wooden house by the sea. But first, there was a promise. Christopher, when it's safe, I'll take you back to your father. Buck had all but given up on keeping it after the world had died and everyone in it. But just as some oaths refuse to be forgotten, so the same can be said about the endurance of love.
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hptransfest · 2 years ago
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HP Trans Fest 2023: Reveals!
2023 Reveals Masterlist
31 March
Fic:  Like a Promise • Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley • 1.4k • Rated T By: letsdothepanic
Fic:  Coming Out (With A New Style) • Luna Lovegood & Harry Potter • 1.9k • Rated G By: daydreamerdisease
3 April
Fic: the mortifying ordeal of being • Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter • 33.3k • Rated M By: Piarelei
4 April
Art:  Pride [Art] •   Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter   • Rated G By: Melcarrianna
5 April
Art:  Just For You • Remus Lupin/Severus Snape • Rated T  By: SafePlaceSnupin
Fic:  Edges • Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew & James Potter • 0.6k • Rated T  By: lightinthehallway
Art: S.T.R.A.P. • Hermione Granger • Rated G  By: Tpants
Fic:  when who you once were sheds its skin (for the new you) • Harry Potter • 5.7k • Rated G  By: BitterArm
6 April
Fic:  Zeitgeist • Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Lily Evans Potter/Severus Snape • 54k • Rated E By: hsvh
7 April
Fic:  only half of what I think I can be • Scorpius Malfoy/Hugo Weasley • 7.4k • Rated G By: Lalalaartje, MoonlitMarauder
Fic: Rat Skulls and Turkey Tails • Harry Potter/Severus Snape • 15.4k • Rated E By: GulJeri, GulJerry
Fic: Love is a dress that you wear • Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter/Severus Snape, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter • 16.9k • Rated E By: deliciousblizzardshark
10 April
Fic: a foundation on which to build • Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter • 19.6k • Rated T By: beyondtheclose
Art:  i lay flowers at the altar of you/ metamorphosis [ART] • Luna Lovegood/Pansy Parkinson • Rated G By: honeybeet
11 April
Fic:  Dappled Light • Lily Evans Potter & Severus Snape, Severus Snape/Other(s) • 4.6k • Rated M  By: zephyrP
Fic:  Percy Weasley and the Chamber of Secrets • Penelope Clearwater & Percy Weasley • 16.9k • Rated T By: AverageFish
Fic:  a dragon mum • Charlie Weasley • 2.3k • Rated G By: artsyspikedhair 
Fic:  Midnight and Royal Blue • Sirius Black/Remus Lupin • 10k • Rated G By: SebbiGrey
12 April
Fic: The Difference • Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy • 23k • Rated E By: DontStopHerNow
Art:  [ART] Their special announcement • Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley • Rated G  By: digthewriter
13 April
Fic:  Bound Together • Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Narcissa Black Malfoy/Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy/Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy/Severus Snape • 5.1k • Rated E By: DrWhoIsGinnyHolmes
Fic:  hot cocoa, warm hugs • Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & Harry Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin • 3.8k • Rated T By: teddy_writes_not_ted_talks 
14 April
Fic:  The Life and Death of Regina Black • Regulus Black • 6.2k • Rated M By: Sniper_Jade
Fic:  I call for your name (is that right?) • Regulus Black/Remus Lupin • 8k • Rated T    By: remolupini
Fic:  Perfect Little Life • Regulus Black/James Potter • 6.5k • Rated E By:  CRAmber
17 April
Fic: (They) Keep Me Warm • Hermione Granger/Harry Potter/Ron Weasley • 5.8k • Rated E By: Basicallyahedgehog
18 April
Fic:  eat your young • Regulus Black/James Potter • 1.5k • Rated E By: rosechaser
20 April
Fic: you will seem more like being • Nymphadora Tonks • 6.9k • Rated T By: elskan_ellis
Fic: Salvation Is Inside Me •  Remus Lupin • 0.6k • Rated M By: daydreamerdisease   
21 April
Podfic: [Podfic] the way you make me glow • Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter •   Podfic length: 1:14:14   • Rated M By: roseszain
24 April
Fic:  Love-Woven • Draco Malfoy/Ron Weasley • 4.4k • Rated T By: vitaminpops
26 April
Fic:  Burlesque (With a Twist) • Harry Potter/Tom Riddle • 14.4k • Rated M By: apocalypseWallflower
Fic: Into the Fire • Draco Malfoy/Charlie Weasley • 4.3k • Rated M By: Aneiria
28 April
Fic: romantic vivisection • Lily Evans Potter & Severus Snape • 1.7k • Rated M By: reveriesque
29 April
Fic:  Cinderella’s not Dead, just wearing different shoes • Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter • 1.1k • Rated T By: BerserkerRose
Art: charitable explorations • Sirius Black & James Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin • Rated G By: oh_gilderoy
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deckof-dragons · 5 months ago
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Every HLVRAI fic I've written has gotten out of hand. First there's the novel length 'WeverTF Benrey' is that was supposed to be a one shot. Then the 4.7k word 'Snow's a Scam' that was supposed to be drabble. And I got another one that was supposed to be a drabble that when I upload it is gonna be a 2 chapter fic instead because it's around 8k words. Then there's 'Gordon Swap' that I was thinking was going to be about 6 or so chapters but it's 15 instead, about 60k words. And now I'm working on another fic that was supposed to be a one shot but then it got too long and I was like, okay fine, 2 chapters then, I'll finish it today. I did not finish it today and it has a decent shot of becoming 3 chapters (I could technically have it go longer if I wanted it to but I refuse). Even my HLVRAI drabble fic is at almost 17k words with 16 chapters, that averages out to more than 1k words per chapter, not normal for a drabble fic.
What is it about HLVRAI that has me writing so much more than I think/intend to? Underestimating how long a fic's gonna be is pretty normal but I've gotten pretty decent at it getting it about right with only a few outliers every once and while. But it's every fic for this fandom so far. I don't know why.
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orqheuss · 2 years ago
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Even the iron still fears the rot PART 4
(Ominis Gaunt/Sebastian Sallow/GN!Reader ANGST)
Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7
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Summary:
Ominis is pushed far past his limits as Leona presses him for information about your whereabouts. Back at the castle, your search is beginning to look hopeless.
Word count: 8k
Tags: torture, blood, gore, broken bones, body horror, eye horror, emetophobia, graphic depictions of violence, cruciatus curse, threats of murder, strangulation, dissociation, J.K. Rowling canon history
AN: Did i research wand cores and wand wood extensively for this chapter? yes, yes i did.
Read at your own discretion
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The professors were silent as Imelda recounted her story, leaving out no detail that could help persuade them in your cause— no stone unturned in the story of the disappearance of Sebastian Sallow and Ominis Gaunt. She still had Sebastian’s wand clutched tightly in her hand, the green and black checkered handle catching the light every so often as she paced the length of the room, hoping to expel some of the frantic energy building in her gut. You were not much better. Your leg was bouncing rapidly against the ground, your boot continuously tapping on the marble floor below and sending a tiny tapping to bounce around the room. The nails on your left hand had been bitten to stubs, tiny cuts beginning to bleed on your cuticles as you stared unseeing at the wall across from you— your mind plagued with images of what could be happening to your closest companions. 
They could be absolutely anywhere, you thought; anywhere across the entirety of the highlands of Scotland. It had been nearly a day at this point since they left for Hogsmeade, smiling and laughing about all the candy they were going to eat together when they got back and were finally able to drag you away from your extra assignments. No one imagined this happening to them in the peaceful town— no one thought that any harm would come to anyone now that Rookwood, Harlow, and Ranrok had been defeated. How naive you were. Poachers were still littered about the area, their teeth bared and ready to snatch anyone connected to you and your ancient magic between their snarling jaws. It was only a matter of time before they tried a different game to lure you into their trap.
Ominis’ wand, tightly grasped in your right hand and held above your heart, was your only means of sanity. You looked down at the long, black-toned wood in anguish, the magic inside thrumming against your fingertips— your only solace that one of the boy’s you loved was still alive. You prayed desperately to any deity, any preternatural being that was listening for Sebastian to be there with him— conscious, breathing, alive. 
Yes, it had only been a day since they had left, but to you it felt like centuries. 
You tightened your hold on the wand, desperate for a little bit of sanctuary in this tremulous storm of a situation, and tried to focus on the soft pulse of the blond’s magic inside— like you could feel his heartbeat through its strange, effervescent sentience. Everyone in the castle knew about the rare properties of this particular blackthorn wand— how it helped the young blind wizard traverse around the castle day in and day out, as well as how it was able to help him in even the most challenging duels. But, what they didn’t know was that it was magically linked to him in more ways than one. The Slytherin let you hold it once, one late night when he had successfully snuck you into the Slytherin common room upon the behest that you wanted to see a mermaid. You remember how it vibrated in your hands, the pulse only getting stronger as Ominis released the wooden instrument entirely and let you turn it about between your fingers. He revealed to you, in a hushed voice that sent shivers down your spine, that it was made special for him by Olivander— made only with things that personally resonated with his magic so it would be a perfect fit, some magical ingredients found as far away as across the Atlantic Ocean. 
This was also the night that he revealed to you more of his reasonings for wanting nothing to do with his family. 
As a muggle-born, you didn’t really know anything about the magic world outside of Hogwarts, and recently Uagadou, thanks to Natty, so when he told you about the magic school of North America, Ilvermorny, you were fascinated. Ominis delicately spun the tale of Isolt Sayre, the founder of the school across the sea, and his family ties to her lineage. You remembered how animated his voice was— how it lifted and fell with each newly revealed section of her life, how his hands joined in the fray when he told the harrowing story of how she had fled from his great-great grandmother Gormlaith Gaunt and disguised herself as she sailed to the “new world,” how his eyes sparkled when he told you about how she went against everything she had been raised to believe and not only adopted two boys that were not from the sacred twenty-eight but also married a muggle. 
You had never seen him so animated before, so enthralled in what he was talking about that nothing else mattered to him besides telling you everything he knew about this part of his history. He had never smiled that big around you before, you thought. There was a small chip in one of his canines that kept catching your attention— a little bit of personality, of human-ness in the normally prim and proper display he put on for the rest of the school. 
You remembered how the glow of the black lake shone on him, making his eyes look like tiny crystal balls that held your entire future in their swirling depths, and his hair look like tiny strands of pure, silken gold spun by The Fates themselves against his porcelain skin. 
In that moment, he had never looked more beautiful. 
The story concluded with him gently taking your hands into his, his palms cradling the backs of yours as he ran his thumb along the smooth wood of his wand. In a hushed voice, only for you to hear, like it was a secret that no one else could ever know, he explained then that the core of his wand was what made it so special— so unique to the others at the school. It was made with a sliver of the horn from a Horned Serpent, a magical creature only found in North America, as they had become extinct in Europe. Olivander had to have his core shipped in specially because of its properties. Ominis explained that Horned Serpent cores were exceedingly rare— only the two Boot boy’s, Isolt’s children, had them from what he was aware, and they died long ago. It helped him move around the castle with echolocation, emitting a low, musical note that only he could hear whenever something was in his way, or whenever danger was near. Not only that, it was perspective to his parseltongue, something he had to grow to accept rather than resent. Isolt was also a known parseltongue, and near the end of his fifth year, when he first found out about her, he reasoned that if she felt no malice about this particular talent then there was little need for him to feel the same. It was a part of him, just like everything else that he had come to accept with the help of you and Sebastian. 
You remembered talking with him for hours, only stopping when the sun began to breach over the horizon and awaken the common room around you. Ominis, the gentleman that he is, walked you to your common room door before bidding you goodnight with a gentle kiss on the back of your hand. You watched him from the barrels as he turned on his heel and began his walk back to his room, the red light at the tip of his wand blinking like a star on a cloudless night. 
Looking at the wand in your hands again, you asked it silently, desperately with your mind to blink to life once again— to point you in the direction of its owner so your boys could be safe and in your arms once again. Alas, no light came to help. 
“—? Are you with us, dear?” 
A hand lightly took you by the chin, tilting your face upwards and forcing your eyes away from the piece of wood you had been emotionlessly staring at for some time. The soft green and red tones of professor Garlick’s hat and hair were the only things you could see through the tears that burned in your eyes. You hadn’t even realized you had been crying until that second. A heaving, shaky breath made its way out of your lips as you shook your head lightly to clear your thoughts, a hand coming up and rubbing away the water that threatened to fall from your lower lashes. Garlick’s sympathetic face became clearer to you, her smile small but soft as she kneeled in front of the chair you had plopped into not long after entering the classroom. She gently took your hand, rubbing her thumb back and forth over your knuckles in a soothing motion as she tried to ground you back in reality. You wished it was Ominis and Sebastian touching you. 
Garlick tucked a tuft of your hair behind your ear before casting a look over her shoulder at her fellow professors, saying something that you couldn’t quite hear. Even though your eyes had cleared, it still sounded like you were underwater— like you were drowning and no one was coming to drag you back up to the surface. You didn’t dare look at the other professors, knowing you would find various forms of pity and sympathy in their eyes. You didn’t need pity, you needed them to get out there and find your best friends. 
Your eyes fell back downwards as the hand still cradling the blackthorn wand in your lap was gently pried open, making room for a second, lightly colored wand to join the first— yew wood, Sebastian’s wand. Your eyes began to water again when you saw them both together, side by side in your hands like their owners were in their everyday life. Professor Garlick cleared her throat to get your attention again, letting you take another deep breath and meet her gaze before beginning to speak. Her voice was tender, soft, like a mother consoling their crying child. 
“We are going to send out a search party for your friends first thing in the morning, I promise.” You opened your mouth, a protest dangling at the tip of your tongue, before she leveled you with a slightly harder, more strict stare. Your jaw closed with a soft click. “There would be no use looking for them in the middle of the night— there is no way of knowing where they are or who has them. It would be a suicide mission, and you know it. We will look for them right at first light when the chances of seeing them are higher.” 
She stood to her full height, holding out her hand for you to do the same. Once you were on your feet, she took your face into her hands, running her thumbs across your cheeks and wiping away the tears that gathered there. She gave you another soft smile, begging you to believe her, to not go looking for trouble like you tended to do with her eyes. 
“We will bring them back, dear. I promise you.” 
Professor Sharp cleared his throat to your left, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. He leveled a stern glare at you and Imelda, his voice leaving no room to argue when he spoke.
“Now, to bed with the both of you, and don’t even think about sneaking out and going to look for them yourselves. Let us handle this.” 
Both of you nodded, turning to leave the room and let the professors continue to discuss the best course of action for the morning. You knew they were right, there would be no point looking for them in the dark. Even if they hadn’t been taken and they were simply stuck somewhere in the woods, it would be impossible to find them. Still, a pulsing anger began to burn under your ribs at the idea of just going to bed while they were out there somewhere— scared, alone, wandless.
Imelda grabbed your cloak sleeve once you were out of earshot, pulling you quickly behind the statue along the far left wall of the courtyard and whispering urgently. 
“Please don’t tell me you’re actually going to listen to them?!” 
You scoffed at the incredulous expression that clouded her face, a devilish smirk stretching across your own cheeks in return. 
“Of course not! It’s like you don’t know me at all. Meet me outside the covered bridge— one hour. Bring your broom.” 
Imelda nodded, a smile pulling at her lips as she saluted you, quickly turning on her heel and running in the direction of the dungeons as you ran off towards the kitchens. 
There was no way you wouldn’t go looking for your Slytherin’s. They were yours, and Merlin help the bastards that took them, because through hell or high water, you would find them. 
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Dawn streaked through the tiny cracks in the stone wall, illuminating the inside of the ruined penitentiary. The soft pitter-patter of rain stemmed from the countryside just beyond the fortresses walls, creating small puddles of mud on the cell floors and making the space incomprehensibly colder for the two young men resting inside. Both had curled into themselves in the night, trying to preserve the smallest iota of heat in their bodies. Even then, their skin had begun to have a blue tint to it. Their teeth chattered unconsciously in their mouths— their bodies' way of keeping them moving and warm. With no blankets to shield themselves, no pillow to rest their head and keep their smaller extremities warm, the chilled autumn breeze slipped through any crack it could find and leeched all warmth from their skin. The night held very little good, true sleep for the pair of Slytherin’s. Each boy tossed and turned, nightmares upon nightmares flickering behind their eyelids and thoughts of what was to come in the morning dancing through their skulls like little demonic dream snatchers. 
Sebastian was shaking the hardest out of the pair for a different reason than the encapsulating cold. Each and every cut on him stung harshly as his body fought against the foreign materials littered in his blood— dirt and dust and grime from the decrepit stone floor. The night on the rocks had not been kind to the freckled boy. He was still badly injured from his session of torture; each shift of his weight brought a new wave of pain. He could feel where his bones had broken and were stitched back together with magic; the little shards that didn’t quite make it into their proper positions stung as they pierced the inner mechanisms of his anatomy. He rolled around restlessly, sweat beading on his brow as a fever scorched through him— the cuts criss-crossing his body slowly becoming infected from a mix of the cold and any other disgusting creatures that could be found swimming in the soil. 
He knew that if they didn’t get help soon, he would die in there. 
Just before the sun reached its highest peak in the sky, a crack sounded through the stone prison, waking both boys with a jolt as their brains switched to high alert— the predators had come back. Sebastian stumbled to his feet first, glaring at the three kidnappers with unbridled rage as they made their way closer to their cages. Leona looked him up and down from the other side of the bars, lightly chuckling to herself at his state. She took in his arm wrapped around his abdomen like it held in all his organs, the twitch in his face whenever he moved wrong and agitated one of his wounds. Her eyes scanned him from top to bottom, feet to temple, and ended her journey on his smoldering, scorching hot sneer. Even with everything she did to him the day before, even after sleeping through the blistering cold, he still had so much life in those eyes. For a moment, she was almost worried about what he would do to her after her plan for today. But, all of that stress flittered away in the autumn breeze once she caught sight of the sweat that beaded on his brow. He was deathly pale, his entire body shaking and shivering against the infection that wracked through his body. She chuckled again, louder and with a much more mocking tone— he would not survive long enough for her to care about what would happen after today. 
Nothing could stop the slow death that awaited him— something so muggle, something so distinctly human, not even magic. 
Leona winked at the brunette, smiling ruefully at his demise and turned towards the blond across from him. He was poised in the corner of his cell, eyes wide and head whipping to and fro as he listened for their approaching footsteps. The black-haired vixen admired him from the bars, her grin stretching further across her face. The cuts on his face had long since stopped bleeding, leaving streaks of red and brown covering his cheeks, only broken apart by the tear tracks that spilled from him yesterday. Every inch of him was on edge, like his whole body was being pulled taut by an invisible force. She could smell his fear in the air, the stench of his terror masking the pungent aroma of the other boy’s rage. The blond’s lips may be pulled back in a brave snarl, but she knew better— her was terrified. Good, she thought. He should be. With a flick of her wrist, she unlocked the door and stepped into the cage with the snarling beast. 
Ominis whipped his head in her direction, hearing her footsteps and breaths as she drew closer to his frozen form. He growled low in his throat, his animalistic instincts taking over in the life or death situation he has found himself in, and geared himself to charge at the target of his anger. He was going to make her pay for what she did to Sebastian— what she was preparing to do to him. With a roaring wail, he pushed off from the wall and ran blindly at the poacher that held them captive. Right as he got close enough to pounce, where Leona could feel his rancid breath against her cheek, she grabbed at his collar and flung him harshly into the bars just beyond, watching as the boy crumbled to the floor in a mess of limbs and panting breaths. She laughed at Ominis’ pain, regarding him in the new light and silently giving him credit for his gusto. She would have fun breaking this one. 
The Rookwood sister stepped back, letting the boy get his bearings before she summoned a dining chair into the space. Wand poised in front of her like a dagger, Leona levitated the youngest Gaunt into the air, throwing him into the chair and conjuring rope to wrap around his body. Anger burned in his eyes as his wrists were tied down to the armrests and his legs were bound together. He thrashed against the binds, cursing the woman and struggling with every bit of strength he had left. The woman stalked towards him with a confidence only a murderer would have; her steps were sure, her head raised above her squared shoulders in triumph— a queen at her coronation— a knight swaggering into a battle that she knew she would win. She leaned close, one hand braced next to where his hand white-knuckled at the wood and the other grabbing a fistful of his hair, yanking it back. A hiss escaped through his clenched teeth at the sudden pain. 
A shout came from the adjacent prison cell. “Leave him alone, you bitch—” 
“Shunpike, shut him up would you?” 
Sebastian’s threats and growls were silenced quickly. Not even the sounds of his fists harshly slamming against the iron bars could be heard in the small space. Ominis felt truly alone without the presence of the brunette’s voice. 
Leona leaned even closer to the blond, her honey breath fanning across the apples of his cheeks. The boy’s face twisted in disgust at her closeness. 
She laughed at his resilience. “We did a little digging on you, blondie. Ominis Gaunt, right? Your parents would pay a pretty galleon for your safe return.” 
She pulled harder at his roots, reopening the cut on his forehead from the force and sending a trickle of blood down his brow. Her other hand raised to his face, ghosting her sharp nail along his cheekbone and collecting a drop of the sanguine ichor. She licked the metallic life force from her finger, a smile stretching further across her face as she tasted her next meal. 
“Tell me where the brat with ancient magic is and maybe there’ll be enough of you left to return to them for a proper burial.” 
A wry smirk stretched across Ominis’ face as a short bark of a laugh tumbled from his lips. A look one could only describe as smugness glimmered in his irises. “Merlin, you even sound like a cunt. You obviously didn’t dig deep enough; my parents can’t stand me, and I refuse to enter a battle of wits with someone so dolefully unprepared—” 
A harsh slap rang through the small space. The blond’s head rocketed to the side, his cheek stinging from the impact and the fresh slices in his skin from the woman’s rings. She roughly grabbed him by the chin, forcing his face to meet hers once again. 
“I am going to wipe that smirk right off your face, you impudent mammothrept.” With her thumb, Leona smeared some of the blood from his fresh cuts along his jawbone. “You just gave up your one saving grace in here.” 
With that, she wrapped her hands around the sides of his head and roughly brought his face downwards on her knee, splintering his nose further and jostling the already angry break. A sharp cry came from the young blond, the force ricocheting his head backwards and sending a spray of blood down his front. Sebastian silently screamed out for the boy, his knuckles bruised and sliced nearly down to the bone from trying to punch his way out. 
With a laugh, the woman took the heel of her boot and slammed it down onto the fingers of Ominis’ wand hand, breaking each and every one of them into tiny little bits of bone and flesh. The air filled with screams of agonizing pain. 
Sebastian slammed his eyes shut at the sound, tears of anguish trailing down his face. His lover’s wails still pierced his ears, now even louder than before. 
It was truly cruel how much your other senses heightened when you couldn’t see.
Leona smiled at the boy’s screams, shutting her eyes and relishing in the delicious pain she caused. A dark, breathy chuckle drew her out of her prideful musings. She snapped her eyes back to the cowering blond, a look of angered shock painting her visage. He was laughing at her? She’d just broken half of his fingers, and he was laughing? 
Ominis raised his head from where it had slumped in agony, somehow meeting the piercing eyes of the torturess. Even with the blindness, Leona could feel his gaze dig deep into her soul. A deranged smile stretched across his face, eyes alight with a barely concealed fury and teeth stained a light pink from how hard he bit his tongue. Pain bled at the edges of his voice, but the words were clear and filled with a sardonic, vainglorious tone. 
“You don’t scare me. We both know what my family— my father is capable of. Whatever you do to me, he has done ten times over.” A steely madness danced in his eyes. “You are but a bug beneath my shoe— you and your pigeon-livered brother.” 
Leona roughly grabbed the boys’ chin, squishing his face between her fingers and dragging him almost entirely out of the chair. Ominis’ impertinent smile widened at the rage burning in the woman’s aura. Her breath felt like icicles across his cheeks, teeth bared behind her snarl as if she was ready to tear out his throat. 
“I’m going to make you wish you were never born.” 
She threw him back into the seat, watching as it rocked back and forth with his weight before raising her arm and backhanding him brutally across his already scarred cheek, opening a slice in his lip and filling his mouth with even more blood. No noise left him— only the sound of skin mutilating skin echoing around the chamber as she slapped him again for a second time, the force rocking his neck in the opposite direction and nearly giving the boy whiplash. The blond slowly turned his head back to face in Leona’s direction, nothing reading through his expression other than the slight tilt downwards of his eyebrows and his scathing eyes peeking out from under his jostled hair. Rearing his head back and puckering his lips, he spit a mix of saliva, blood, and the bit of his cheek that he bit off into the poachers face. Her nostrils flared as she felt the chunk of flesh land on her cheekbone, sliding down her face and leaving a snail trail of blood before dropping to the ground with a soft plop. Her vision painted red, an inhuman, primal growl ripping from her throat in unencumbered wrath as she pounced on him. Her fists wrapped around his scrawny neck, squeezing the life from him and throwing the both of them to the ground, chair and all. 
Sebastian cringed at the sound of Ominis’ head smacking harshly against the stone below, a muted sob squeezing through the gaps of his molars. 
Stars burst behind the young Slytherin’s eyes as all the air was knocked out of his chest— the hand crushing his throat leaving no room for oxygen to enter his lungs and replenish the supply. He struggled against her hold, a ringing screaming in his ears and clouding all of his other senses. All he could focus on was the burning in his chest and the bright light that slowly took over his mindseye. His lungs ached. Leona pushed all of her weight onto the boy's larynx and chest, her knee pushing with all of her strength against his abdomen, pressing him deeper and deeper into the ground and stealing more of the life from his eyes. Ominis had never known what it felt like to drown, but in that moment he was sure it wasn’t much different than the suffocation clawing under his ribs. He had minutes, maybe seconds left before he completely lost consciousness— his skin an even more pronounced bluish-purple now than it was when he was asleep. The eerie coldness of death crept through his body, his limbs beginning to lose the fight to hold on to that last semblance of life that squeezed at his heart. Only the sound of his beloved lover’s names could be heard in the staunchly quiet space as they fell from his parted lips; his eyes began to flutter closed for what felt like the last time— eternal sleep wrapping its arms around his tired form and ushering him into the cold, perpetually lonely afterlife. 
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You had been looking for Ominis and Sebastian for hours by the time the sun first began to rise over the hills. Once you both met up at the covered bridge, you and Imelda took one end of the Forbidden Forest a piece, her starting at the northern end and you the southern before meeting in the middle. No matter how sound your reasoning was— ashwinder’s were more likely to conglomerate in already made camps, and nearly all of them near Hogwarts and Hogsmeade were in or around the forest, after all— they were nowhere to be found. You felt like a mad man, casting revelio nearly twice as much as you did last year for your begrudgingly useful field guide, and that was a lot. But even still, there was not one trace of your boys in the forest. 
The next logical place to search was the scene of the crime. You sent Imelda to go search the far end of the Hogsmeade woods, and you would search near the area where she had found the blood earlier. With a nod and a quick point in the right direction, you both were off to continue your hunt. 
Upon landing in the clearing, the first thing you noticed was the strong, putrid scent of blood. At one point this was probably a lovely spot, one where couples could come and have a picnic after a day of shopping in town, just enough out of the view of civilization that not many would even know to come looking there. Now, it looked like a crime scene. Imelda was right, there was so much blood around the space, much more than was healthy, much more than you wanted to see knowing that it belonged to the two men you were in love with. A constant, foreboding sickness pooled in your stomach at the sight and smell, its claws catching on the delicate skin of your throat as it clawed its way up towards your mouth. Fighting to swallow down the bile bubbling just under your jaw, you hesitantly stepped onto the earth below, dropping your broom where you landed and shakily approaching the center of the tiny clearing. 
You could see most of the struggle happened in the middle. The ground was still undisturbed, even after all this time— like the animals of the forest refused to go near it out of fear. Four sets of footprints dug into the soft grass below, one in front of another while two flanked on either side. Three kidnappers, you concluded. You could take three people. 
Squatting down towards the ground, you examined the first dried patch of blood. Time dyed the once crimson ichor the same color as the earth below, only the stark green of the grass leaving a trace of where the first boy had been struck. While the earth was the same, the air had had time to change, taking the scent of Ominis and Sebastian into its arms and carrying them away like leaves during the first snowfall of the season. Your only clue for which boy stood where you were now was revealed as the sun streamed through the tree branches above. The rays danced in the air around you, catching on a few hairs buried within the browned blood— pure, golden life against grotesque, dismal death. Ominis. Your throat began to close as tears threatened to tumble down your face. He had been struck over the head, that was the only logical conclusion. Head wounds bled a lot, much more than any other part of the body unless they struck a vein. This provided little solace for your scattered, panicked mind. Head wounds could also be fatal. You fingered at the softly vibrating wand in your pocket, calming your trembling slightly. He wasn’t dead, you told yourself, repeating it like a mantra as you stood up and began to make your way to the second patch of dried blood— not dead, not dead, not dead. 
One of the pairs of footprints had walked over to the second boy, the shapes noticeably smaller than the other two— perhaps a woman, or a wiry man? They seemed to take their time to get to the other boy, their footsteps precise and soft, almost dancer-like, before they became noticeably darker in the spot where they stopped. They stood there for some time— talking to him? Taunting him? Sebastian was angry, that much you could tell. His heels were dug deeper into the ground than the front of his foot, like he had skidded to a halt before quickly getting into dueling position. The trio must have had Ominis before they got to him. There was a slight dip in the ground behind his left foot, like he at one point considered turning and running for help but decided against it. It would be the biggest betrayal to him to leave a friend in need. You sighed, shaking your head slightly.
Stupid, stubborn Sebastian. 
As much as you hated to admit it, you loved that about him. You loved his unwavering loyalty— his bullheadedness. 
You heaved a breath, steeling yourself to approach the tree just beyond the brunette’s footprints. It truly did look like a boulder crashed into it. There was a notable concave in the front, about the diameter of a quaffle, maybe a little bit more. You approached the mark, leaning close to get an idea of what could have caused it. Your heart leapt into your throat at what you found, your hand trembling as you carefully pulled one of the loose pieces of bark away. There was more blood there— just a little bit, a small splatter from a quick impact. Nestled amongst the pale skin of the tree, much like the puddle across the clearing, were a few scattered pieces of hair. These were dark brown in color, the light making them look like bits of melted chocolate. Two head wounds— two heavily bleeding victims. 
You grappled hopelessly at the side of the tree, digging your fingernails into the bark as you leaned on it for support, dry heaving against the putrid bile that threatened to spill as the seconds ticked by. This was too much, you thought to yourself. You were never squeamish before— not when it was your own blood, your own wounds, at least. But, these were your best friends, the two people you loved more than anyone else in the world, and they were hurt. Not only that, but they were likely hurt, dying, dead, because of you. 
You thought they would be safe going to Hogsmeade without you, but it seems that they were in twice as much danger— take the fawns if you can’t get to the doe. Ominis and Sebastian, unsafe in their supposed safety. What a terrible oxymoron. 
Something small on the ground caught your attention, your eyes widening as a guttural sob poured from your tightened chest. You dropped to your knees where you stood, watching your hand from seemingly outside of your own body as your trembling fingers picked up a small, black button from the tall grass below. It was smooth in your hand as you ran your thumb across its surface, tears finally making their way down your face and splashing around it like a drizzle before a hurricane. 
You knew this button; it was the one from Sebastian’s cloak. You had been pestering him for weeks to get it fixed properly, tired of listening to him complain about having to sew it back on all the time and pricking his fingers on the needle. Whenever you offered to do it for him, or take it to Gladrags for him so Mr. Hill could do it proper, the brunette just kept shrugging you off, saying that he could fix it himself. It must have fallen off again in the struggle. 
You remembered your most recent conversation about that accursed button. You had been walking towards the Undercroft after Potions, laughing about Garreth’s most recent concoction, or more rather aptly, explosion, when the tiny black thing popped off his cloak, rolling away and lodging itself underneath one of the benches in the Transfiguration Courtyard. Sebastian sighed, a groan falling from his mouth as he leaned his head against the nearest column in annoyance, lightly hitting his forehead against it twice before pulling away and accio-ing the button back into his hand. 
He had turned to you again, frowning at the laugh that was barely contained in your smile, before bemoaning to you like a petulant child. “I really thought I got it to stay this time!” 
You remember laughing then, your hand patting his shoulder in a placating manner. “Can I fix it for you, now?” 
He smiled as soon as you came in contact with him, only for it to turn into a faux-exasperated sigh when you spoke. His hands fell onto your shoulders as he shook you lightly, a chuckle dancing at the corners of his words. 
“Such a Hufflepuff, you are! Always offering to help me with things.” He leaned closer, his forehead nearly touching yours as his voice dropped to a soft murmur. You remembered how hard your heart was beating. “Don’t you ever get tired of being so nice?” 
Your words were nothing more than a breath, a rouge blush creeping up your neck from the close proximity. If you leaned the tiniest bit closer, you could kiss him. For a moment, you thought he was going to do just that. 
“T-that’s part of my charm.” You cleared your throat, swallowing against your noticeable stutter. “How else am I going to keep you around?” 
He leaned away then, a mischievous smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth from your flustered state. “That it is. Though, I keep you around for more reasons than just your beguiling advantageousness.” 
He winked at you then before sighing again with a fake, lighthearted annoyance. “Fine, you win! You can fix my cloak. The button better stay on this time.” 
You remember the soft look that took over his face when you laughed loudly at his words, like the sun was shining on his face for the first time and all he could do was bask in its warmth, before offering you his elbow. 
“Oh how generous of you! I will get right on that, my liege.” 
You looped your arm through his, walking together once again to your little hidden piece of solitude to study and duel the rest of the day away. 
Now, in that little clearing that smelt of damp earth and old, stale blood, that tiny button had been left behind for what might be the last time. 
It was amazing, how such a small thing could have such a large impact on the world around it. 
With the weight of two lives heavy on your shoulders and the crushing pressure of heartbreak against your ribs, you finally let yourself sob, and cry, and wail, and grieve for the two friends who had been taken because of this magical gift that you never once asked for in the first place. 
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Just as quick as it started, it was over. 
Ominis inhaled the air around him greedily once Leona’s hands unclenched themselves from around his throat, fighting against his body's need to drop everything and rest. His heartbeat pounded in his skull; he could feel the blood from whatever new wound he had seeping through the dirt covered floor, coating the edges of his ears and dyeing his hair a color that would rival any Weasley. The woman staggered to her feet, all of her grace gone momentarily from the obnoxious barbaric-ness of her actions. She brushed the dust from her clothes, smoothing down her wild nest of hair and wiping the fluids from her face. A sigh panted from her lips against the breaths she heaved into her throat. 
She at least had the decency to look somewhat ashamed of her actions. “Apologies, I lost myself there for a moment.” She cleared her throat, gesturing to the jockey closest to her. “Albathane, pick him up.” 
Her head turned to the side at the sound of the prison door being opened, Albathane’s heavy steps echoing off the walls, only for her to do a double take at the state of the other boy across from her. She smiled at his apparent distress— the tear tracks on his face, mingling with the dirt and grime that covered every inch of his skin, the delightfully crimson blood that bloomed on his knuckles, the waves of pure terror that shed from his curled form in the corner of his cage. 
She tisked, “Oh dear, that won’t do at all. No closing your eyes, little snake, I want you to see and hear every second of your friends' pain. I want you to watch me torture him and know that you could have stopped it.” A dastardly idea sparked a fuse in her brain as she got the attention of her other henchman. “Shunpike, bring him here, would you? I think it’s time we gave him a show.” 
A sinister grin spread across the face of the large man as he entered Sebastian’s cell. The boy fought desperately against the strong arms trying to corral him, throwing punches and kicks at the man but feeling no give at all in his grip— it was like fighting against a brick wall. He dragged the freckled boy out of the room by his hair, laughing at the silent swears that would make a sailor blush pouring from the brunette before aggressively shoving him against the bars holding Ominis and Leona. Shunpike grabbed Sebastian’s arms with one hand, the other still dug deep in his curls, and held him still like he weighed nothing more than a grain of sand. A look of pure horror spread across the boy’s face as he got a good, close look at his beloved— he couldn’t look away, couldn’t close his eyes even if he wanted to. 
Albathane tipped Ominis’ chair back to its upright position, yanking the blond’s head up to meet the gaze of the woman by his blood soaked hair and chuckling at the whimper of pain that exited the boy’s clenched teeth. A black eye was already beginning to bloom around the left side of his face, coloring the skin around his eye socket a concerning shade of purple and red. Leona smiled, her canines somehow more serrated and sharp like her disturbed behavior was the world's smoothest whetstone, and unsheathed the dagger hiding in her boot. The blade was curved like a raptors claw, the steel catching the bits of sunlight visible through the thick rock and revealing an intricately decorated handle. Her hand was wrapped tightly around the carving of two snakes, their bodies tangled together in a spiral up to the hilt of the blade where each of their heads were posed to strike the other. It looked like their fangs were made of actual bone— actual, real life snake fangs. Sebastian wouldn’t question it if venom was still intact in the silken teeth. The woman stalked towards Ominis, watching his resolve crumble with each step she took closer to him. He could hear the air break around her blade, and his heart skipped a beat in his chest. 
With one hand, she pressed her thumb against his brow and pulled the skin taut, widening his left eye and taking away his ability to close the lid. He jerked savagely against the binds cutting into his circulation, the skin of his bare wrists rubbed raw and bleeding from the coarse rope. Panic curled its tentacles around his still hoarse throat and squeezed as he hopelessly tried to move farther away from the dangerously sharp woman and her even sharper knife. When he felt the cold, unforgiving steel press against his under-eye skin, a hair's length from the delicate film of his cornea, everything in his body stilled; even the incessant belabor of his heart ceased its movement. 
Sebastian felt bile rise in his throat. 
They weren’t even torturing them for information anymore, they were doing it because it was fun. 
Ominis’ eyes flicked back and forth in a hysteric frenzy. He had never truly wished for sight before, not really, but at that moment he couldn’t decide if it was a blessing or a curse that he couldn’t see the feral smile on Leona’s face reflect in the blade. Blood pebbled where the dagger pressed into his skin— even the lightest touch scarring him from the sharpness. The woman’s eyes were wild as she watched the red dot drip down his cheek. 
“Do you like my new toy? Goblin forged— very sharp. One wrong move and—” She made a noise akin to a pop. The boy shivered at the insinuation, a whimper falling from his lips. 
The poacher hummed in thought, pretending to ponder her next move and prolonging the dread that pooled in the blond’s eyes. “What do you think would happen if I just slipped the blade up a little further? You’re already blind, after all. It would be as easy as using a melon baller.” 
The dagger slid minutely against his skin, the blade brushing against Ominis’ bottom lashes. He croaked strangled pleas of mercy, every ounce of rebellion that had once festered within him snuffing out like a bonfire during a rainstorm. Tears spilled over the sides of the steel, trailing downwards and catching on the dueling snake fangs— little drops of haunted venom falling to the ground below and wetting the sleeves of the woman threatening his life. He dare not move a single muscle lest the anlace move higher. 
Leona snickered at the blond’s cataclysmic fear. She relinquished her hold on his head, nodding at the other poacher to do the same, and moved the knife away from Ominis’ face. He could only sigh in relief for a moment before the curved blade made contact with his thigh, cutting through the flesh like butter and nearly scraping bone. White hot agony blazed through his blood, singeing his veins from where they ended in his toes and started in his brain as he fought desperately to stay conscious. Sebastian could only describe the blond’s sound as a harrowing, unbearable howl. He had never heard anything like it before— never wanted to hear anything like it again. 
The raven-haired huntress twisted the dagger, opening the wound even more and spilling a small river of blood into the earth. Her smile was colored ravenous. 
“Last chance, tell me where I can find your little friend and we’ll let you both go.” 
Swirling deep within his soul, Ominis felt his last, atom-sized iota of bravery. He harnessed it— letting it paint war-torn masterpieces across everything he could: his eyes, the curve of his angry frown, the tautness of his shoulders, and the coldness of his voice when he finally spoke. 
“We will never tell you where they are, never in a million years, no matter how much you try to torture it out of us.” His breathing was labored underneath the bravado, each word spoken through painful seizures of his lungs as whiteness crept up the corners of his blackened vision. “We would rather die.”
Leona sighed deeply, a falsely sympathetic frown turning her lips as she brushed some of the blond tresses of the boy behind his ear and cradled his face. “Pity, this could have been so much easier. I suppose we just have to lure them here some other way. We have their name, at least, thanks to you.” 
She turned to where Shunpike stood, still pressing Sebastian’s face into the solid metal bars. “Put him back in his cage, I’m nearly finished with this one.” 
Ominis gulped, fearful of what “nearly finished” could mean. With a wave of her wand, the chair underneath the boy as well as the ropes binding him still fell away, disappearing into the magic ether and sending him tumbling to the ground. He groaned, the shocks rippling through his body and reminding him of every other injury he had sustained in his time in this personal hell. The woman stood over his crumpled form, leveling her wand on his twitching body and dealing her final blow. 
“Crucio.”
A familiar pain flooded Ominis’ senses, and silent cries scratched at his throat. 
Sebastian counted the seconds she held the boy under the spell, each passing minute sending a renewed spike of terror through his heart. 
Five minutes. She held the curse steady for five minutes before she released him. 
The blond sobbed violently into the dirt below as flashbacks sliced through his memory. The sinister voices of his father, his mother, and his siblings rang loud like a church bell in his ears— their words of pure malice cutting down to the bone. Even still with the cruelty of his family, they had never held the curse for that long. 
His voice was nothing but a meek tremble as he whimpered into the ground. “Please…please just fucking kill me.” 
Leona laughed as she walked to the cell door, turning towards the boy once more and baring her teeth in a victorious smile. “Now where would the fun in that be?” 
She callously depulso’d him into the wall, watching as his head smacked backwards into the stone with a sickening crack. 
Shooting a wink at the trembling brunette and admiring the resignation in his tear-filled eyes, a distinct opposition of the living spark they once held, she took the arms of her partners and disappeared as quickly as they came. 
No matter how loud Sebastian yelled, how hard he pounded on the iron bars, Ominis did not move again.
***
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star-my · 4 months ago
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aight this one was a doozy
a few scars catch your eye.: oop what happened? o.O is this related to The BackstoryTM?
afvhybilvdjks;ln'ba the whole shower scene is so adhvb;aj soft and intimate and ugh got me kkcking my feet and giggling (except i'm on the bus, so only inwardly. but i can't stop grinning at these two fools like one)
So. He’s only gonna wear the—with those—  No. No.  How are you supposed to be normal!: ugh oc so fr for that
You make your way out of the bed, clinging to Yoongi’s arms and yelling into his hisses when he jokingly pushes you back down. “Don’t you dare!”  But you realize too late that his plan was for you to hold on because he hoists you upward, straight into another kiss that makes you glad he’s got you secured. : HELP THEY'RE SO ADORABLE ADIG;BAK B
ayyy cat reveal!!!! : i need to know what they name it i bet its super adorable and/or funny like Hustler is
“To go to the store,” he continues, placing light kisses on your neck that have you damn near purring. “Get whatever you want for that house.” : aihgab:bn"ais;db k????????
not as eloquent and probably not my best work, but still a fave nonetheless!: HI RYEN OKAY WHAT THE HECK cause i was going to say something about this before i read the a/n but I feel like your writing is actually getting better (which was possible??? weird) or maybe it's just because the relationship is finally relationshipping and all your earlier exposition and foreshadowing etc etc (i forget the right terms) is just fitting neatly into context now but this legit was the chapter I enjoyed the most so far i think. (obligatory "they've all been amazing and all your writing is") but this is also a fave so !!! <3 !!!
flutter (3tan) (m) | myg
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title: flutter (m)   pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f)   series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit rating/genre: m (18+) ; fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au   summary: the aftermath of a night of confessions and relief.   note: this takes place in a timeskip in forfeit :D note 2: i said this already but it still stands - apparently 300 for a goal post is way too easy now🥴 good luck if we end up with another one!! but anyway, hope y’all enjoy the exact content i said i would be taking a break from! LMAO but seriously, i’m resting fr fr after this. also.. i still cannot believe the timing🧍‍♀️ warnings: language, yoongi being yoongi, kisses are a warning again, so is the kitchen, shower moments<33, oral (f rec), fluff as fuuuc my god lol who am i??, yoongi’s chosen fit🧍‍♀️, uhhhh chains but wbk, it’s just a bunch of fluff to heal us after forfeit idk what else to say!! drop date:november 20th, 2022, 5pm est word count: 6.3k🦋
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“Come shower with me.” 
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mystra-midnight · 8 months ago
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hp-fanfic-archive · 2 months ago
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6 Lessons From a Dead Man by Roozette Pairing: Harry/Severus Rating: Not rated Word Count: 8k Podfic available here Read by: fire_juggler Length: 1-2 hours Harry Potter put himself in a vulnerable position on Severus’ birthday. So, naturally, Severus took advantage.
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not-poignant · 1 year ago
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Hi Pia. Not sure if this has been asked before but what makes you decide how long a chapter is going to be? I noticed that the chapters in your stories like FFS and TIP have really long chapters whilst stories like the current UtB have shorter chapters, and I was wondering why that was.
Hi anon,
So... it's mostly down to two things:
First -> Engagement. People just generally comment a lot less on longer chapters. The longer the chapter, the less comments it gets. I don't know if it's reading fatigue or what, but The Ice Plague taught me a lot of hard lessons and longer chapters do not get the engagement to justify that level of effort (I love love love the comments I get, don't get me wrong, but I also make money off this writing to live, I do have to think 'longer chapters mean I eat less and can't see all my medical specialists' - that's not nothing). People might say they love them, but they don't show the authors love for them in the same way, and that's the only way I can justify doing them.
Second -> From a labour perspective, I can release more chapters for different stories if the chapters are shorter. There was a time when the average length of my chapters was around 6-8k per chapter. That works out to maybe five chapters for like, possible one or two stories at once per month. The editing took longer and was harder to do, and it was also more laboursome for my beta as well. Shorter chapters are easier to edit, even if you're doing two and a half in the same amount of time. Stories like Palmarosa, A Stain that Won't Dissolve, probably most of the Underline stories like Gold and Red and Blue would not exist at all if I was still writing longer chapters. Because I could never justify the time it took simply to write a single chapter, and it would be - like so many of my story ideas - just a pipe dream that I sometimes talked about.
So if you like some of those stories, they are literally in existence in part because I went to shorter chapter lengths, which allows me to be more experimental with different story ideas to see what ones I really enjoy, without impacting my monthly wordcount and schedule too severely.
There's other factors too. But engagement was a huge, huge part of it. These days my chapter length ranges from around 2.5-4.5k which seems to be the sweet spot (it's also still about 2-3 times as long as what's recommended in serials, which sadly is like 500 words to 2k, which to me is like, damn, I can't live like that). And a lot of later FFS chapters are actually around this length as well. In fact I think at least one chapter in FFS is 2500 words. So I was already experimenting then with shorter chapters and was already finding that the shorter chapters had more engagement. I think one of the chapters that had the most comments of all of them, was actually one of the shortest chapters.
There's a time and place for really short chapters so I don't like to do them too much, so instead I'm around the 3-4k mark.
There's also the fact that when it really suits, I will write longer chapters. Though I don't ever want to write chapters over 6-7k again outside of epilogues, simply because of the sheer amount of labour that goes into them, and the fact that they seem to fatigue readers a lot more overall.
The other thing is, anon, I used to be very ashamed of how long my stories were, so I used to prefer - out of shame - shorter chapter numbers but longer chapters so it 'felt' like the story was shorter to me even though it wasn't. Realistically, Game Theory should - pacing wise - have 100 shorter chapters. But this embarrassed me so much I shoved a lot of different things into chapters that would have made more sense broken up. When I gave up that shame, I could pace the stories better in a way that made more sense to me. In longer chapters, you'll see a lot more chapter breaks (the asterisks), and some of those are where many writers would logically just have started a new chapter.
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ineffable-xenanigans · 3 months ago
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A Mouthful of Blessings
It's here, it's here, it's finally here!
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Chapter 1 of A Mouthful of Blessings is now on AO3!
Rating: E Length: 6 chapters (8k words) Summary:
This story starts, as it will end, with a prayer. In Chapter 1, we learn that angels can hear the prayers that name them. In Chapter 6, Crowley uses this knowledge for good and evil; in other words, so he can dirty-talk Aziraphale while his mouth is otherwise occupied. What happens in between? A whole lot of things, actually, including but not limited to: love confessions, crying, laughing, suggestive oyster shucking, and a flood.
The remaining chapters will be released very, very soon:
Chapter 2: November 24th (tomorrow Sunday)
Chapter 3: November 26th (next Tuesday)
Chapter 4: November 28th (next Thursday)
Chapter 5: November 30th (next Saturday)
Chapter 6: December 1st (next Sunday)
It's my first fic ever, and the longest piece of smut I've ever written, but I'm really, really proud of this piece, and I hope y'all enjoy it if you choose to read it 💕
I'd like to take this opportunity to thank two people in particular:
@sleepymccoy, who came up with the original idea and graciously gave me permission me to use it as a starting point.
My Patron Saint of Smut, who wishes to remain anonymous but has nonetheless walked this path alongside me, gifting me with their encouragement and being the best beta reader I could have ever asked for, 6000 times over.
Tag list (let me know if you wanna be added!)
@snognes @naturallyteal @eybefioro @ineffablyruined @ineffably-queer-book-lover
🌶 only: @goodomensafterdark
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chaos-monkeyy · 2 years ago
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