#this is an interesting book with a lot of atmosphere I guess

[artemismatchalatte]

Currently Reading: Our Wives Under The Sea by Julia Armfield. March 23 2023.

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

Graveyard Shift

short spooky novella

5 people who all take smoke breaks in the cemetery near their university in the middle of the night come across a fresh hole in the ground - and wonder who dug it, and why

they each start investigating, and quickly find out they are closer to the answers than expected

[saintobio]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑.

rule #1: even if the world crumbles down in front of you, never, ever trust sylus with your heart. because even the fiercest flames can't match the danger of loving a man like him.

♱ pairings. sylus, fem!reader

♱ genre. angst, smut, boss/assistant, 18+

♱ tags. villain!reader, reader works for onychinus, reader is not l&ds!mc, set in the N109 zone, unrequited love, profanity, petnames (kitten, baby doll, darling, sweetie), unprotected sex, throatfucking (m!receiving), cunnilingus (f!receiving), cum-eating, slight dom/sub play, spitting, hair-pulling, spanking, biting, choking, overstimulation, bondage, blindfolding, lots of jealousy, possessiveness, yandere themes, stalking, blood, violence, usage of guns, allusions to prostitution, killings, death, *coughs* that one harley+joker scene.

♱ notes. 8.2k words. inspired by this song bcos i can’t stop thinking abt him for days

“Boss is looking for ‘ya.”

It was already nighttime when you emerged from the library, only to encounter the eccentric twins, Luke and Kieran, lounging on the window sill as if they had been waiting for you to come out of your bat cave. They always donned their signature uniforms of leathered attire and beaked masks, an outfit reminiscent of Sylus’s mechanical crow, Mephisto. Behind their silhouettes, the red glow of the blood moon poured through the window, casting an eerie, crimson hue across the dimly lit hallways. Any normal person would have found such an atmosphere disturbing. 

But that was the N109 Zone for you—a dark, lawless, enigmatic place you called home.

“Is he in his room already?” you asked, quietly closing the door behind you. In your arm was a thick book, an archival file you had spent nearly two hours searching for. It contained records of historical events, of life before the Chronorift Catastrophe of 2034, before the Deepspace Tunnel was opened. Sylus had tasked you with finding the file for reasons he didn’t care to disclose.

A curious Luke tilted his head and swung his feet in the air as he pointed at the book. “Let me guess,” he began with a teasing tone, “Is that book some sort of Kama Sutra?”

Kieran’s snigger followed. “I bet it is, since it’s her birthday in a few hours.”

“Very funny,” was your quick retort. “It’s a history book, you idiots. Sylus needs it for something.”

The twins then let out a teasing coo. “Aww, so no birthday ‘fun’ for you?” asked Luke, “I thought sleeping with your boss would have its perks, too.”

Although his comment was meant to be a joke, you bristled at his jab at your professionalism. It had been a few years since you started this kind of relationship with Sylus, with him being your boss and the leader of Onychinus, and with you as his personal assistant and, well… escort. 

In and out of the N109 Zone, Sylus was a popular man for both good and bad reasons. His notoriety was mostly for his influence, and sometimes for his crimes. He was known to be unforgiving—a brute man who carried no conscience towards his enemies. One wrong move and you’d find yourself six feet under. Perhaps, that was what you admired so much about him. His aura, his domineering persona, his dangerous charm. He had mastered the art of seduction, the sin of hunger and desire. His power. There was no one like him. 

And so, you were the happiest woman alive when what began as an unrequited admiration eventually blossomed into something more. Spending more time with your boss played a pivotal role in gaining his interest towards you, because day-by-day he started to learn how much of an asset you could be for him. You were his prized possession. You were the most powerful weapon in his arsenal. Despite Luke and Kieran’s constant warnings of the abyss you were throwing yourself into, you were willing to be a pawn in Sylus’s game of chess. You wanted to be the Queen next to a King. Because that meant you were too valuable to simply set aside.

Yet Sylus was never one to clarify the nature of your relationship. He’d often say there was no need to clear up such a silly thing. All you knew was that when Sylus needed you, he had to have you. In all ways. He’d still act professional and distant depending on the audience. But behind closed doors, he spoiled you like a princess, treated you like a queen, and worshiped you like a saint. He was a sadistic, draconic man towards others, but he always had a gentle spot for you. Only for you. 

And that was a spot you would never, ever share with anyone else.

“Whatever. I gotta go see him,” you excused yourself from the two, just as one of them tossed a black box to you. “Is this my present?”

The twins jumped down from the window sill in perfect sync. “Advance happy birthday to the princess of Onychinus. Make sure to open the gift when boss is around.”

Your lips spread into a smile as you held the box in your free hand. Luke and Kieran giving you a gift was the last thing you would expect from them. “Why, thank you—”

“Yeah, yeah. You should go see him now,” said Kieran, pushing you forward by the shoulders. “Can’t keep boss waiting.”

By the time you reached Sylus’s door, the twins’ distant, mischievous chuckles then echoed down the hall. You couldn’t help but laugh and shake your head before grasping the door handles, stepping inside of Sylus’s bedroom with slow, measured steps. You didn’t know why you were nervous. As the door shut behind you, the familiar scent of leather, cardamom, and sandalwood immediately enveloped you like a fragrant, hallucinatory mist. However, his king-sized bed lay empty with the sheets still perfectly arranged. There were no signs of him anywhere, until the sound of cascading rainwater drew your gaze toward the bathroom, where his tall figure was visible through the frosted glass. He was engaged in a steamy shower, clearly unaware of the intruder that entered his room just now.

“Boss?” you called out, standing by his bed. “I’ll leave the file on your nightstand.” 

Receiving no response, you placed the book on the bedside table and waited for him patiently. Should you stay or should you leave? It usually depends on Sylus’s mood. There were nights where he wanted to be left alone, and nights where he craved your presence. His lack of response may be a sign to exit his room. But as you prepared yourself to leave thinking that Sylus purposely ignored you, a certain black velvet box resting on his nightstand suddenly caught your eye. Unlike the typical small box that might hold a ring, this one was more rectangular in shape and you were drawn to it like a moth to a flame. It was your curiosity that led you to touch the soft surface, wondering what lay beneath it.

Is it for me…?

“They say curiosity kills a cat.” Sylus’s deep, resonant voice broke your trance as he stepped out of the shower. Wrapped in nothing but a white towel around his waist, his muscular form was on full display as he approached you with assertive footsteps. Every curve of his muscle flexed as he moved. And his carnelian eyes sparkled with amusement, the corners of his thin, pinkish lips curving upward when he walked closer to you. “Touching my things without permission. Are you asking to be punished, kitten?”

Your heart raced as he closed the distance. Yet, maintaining composure around Sylus was a skill you had honed since the day you began working for him. “Oh, forgive me, master,” you merely teased. “It caught my attention.”

“Curious about the box or who it’s for?” he taunted, raking his fingers through his damp gray hair. Beads of water glistened on his bare skin, and you found your gaze wandering to his perfectly sculpted abs until you felt his finger lifting your chin up. “Eyes on me, honey. Don’t tell me you thought that velvet box was for you?”

So it isn’t? You suppressed a disappointed expression, but your clouded eyes betrayed you. “No, I… just curious.”

“Is that a sad kitten I see?” he asked, tilting his head to catch even the slightest changes in your expression. “You wanna open the box?”

“No, thank you.” Your stubbornness prevailed this time.

Sylus’s lips curved into a smile as he stepped closer, his arms wrapping around your waist and turning you gently. He then went on to open the velvet box and fastened a silver necklace around your neck. “Happy birthday, my darling,” he whispered into your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he planted a tender kiss on your shoulder. “That’s a red beryl crystal—one of the rarest gemstones in the world.”

Your eyes sparkled in awe as you touched the red pendant, feeling its exquisite value beneath your fingertips. Oh… to receive such beautiful, rare gem from the boss of Onychinus himself. You were too overwhelmed with appreciation as you turned and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Sy!” you exclaimed, your heart swelling at his effort. “It’s beautiful. I love it.”

He returned your gaze with a smug look. “You better love it. I sacrificed two gold bullets just to get that for you, sweetie.”

“You…” Your eyes widened at the implication behind his words. Someone’s life was lost in exchange for your birthday gift. It was beyond your expectations to know that Sylus went to such macabre lengths just to surprise you, but banality was his worst enemy, and the last thing he would do was be called boring over things like birthday surprises. “...Well, thank you. I’ll treasure it forever, my love.”

“Now,” he said, abruptly breaking the sweet moment as he glanced at the other box on his bed. You realized he was scrutinizing the gift from the twins, which you had unwittingly left behind when you hugged him. His expression darkened slightly, clearly displeased at the foreign object on his bed. “Care to tell me where this is from? Or did some other bastard get you a present before I did?” he questioned, “Tell me his name, his identity. Give me his location.”

Chuckling, you cupped his cheek and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “It’s not what you think. Luke and Kieran gave it to me before I came here.”

Still unimpressed, he raised an eyebrow and nodded toward the box. “Who told you to receive gifts from other men?” 

“I…”

“Let’s see what’s inside, shall we?”

“I’m sure it’s just some…” you began, hurriedly untying the ribbon at the sight of Sylus’s growing pique. But as you opened the box, your mouth dropped in shock upon seeing a black lingerie set inside. An awkward laugh forced its way out of your mouth. Those two! “I… Ha-ha! They fool around too much. Don’t mind it. I’m just gonna throw it away.”

Sylus’s frown quickly transformed into a deep chuckle as he lifted the lingerie by the strap, his eyes widening with interest as he examined the lace corset. “Why don’t you try wearing it first, baby doll?” he suggested, an idea clearly forming in his mind. “It’s rude to toss aside a gift.”

He knows exactly what he’s doing, you thought, feeling your cheeks flush under his gaze. You almost lost your mind when he looked down at you with a roguish smirk, like he was an animal who’s about to devour his first meal in a long time. “You really want me to put it on?”

“Since it’s your special day,” he insisted, settling at the edge of his bed while keeping you positioned between his legs, “Let me help you with that.” His tone was more command than suggestion as he slowly unbuttoned your shirt, peeling it away from your body. “That’s it, be a good kitten. Just follow your master’s orders and you’ll do just fine.”

You felt his cold fingertips brushing against your chest as he slipped your blouse down, his hands reaching behind to unclasp your bra and set your breasts free. Instinctively, you shied away from the intensity of his gaze and covered your chest. But he was quick to grab your wrist, an eyebrow raised at your disobedience. “I’m sorry…” 

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” he mumbled in a deep, orotund voice before continuing to undress you. His hand now fiddled with your pants, unzipping and sliding it down your legs in a painfully slow way. To your surprise, he had also pulled your underwear down along with your pants, leaving your lower body as bare as it could be. “Looks like my kitten’s prepared,” he said with a lowly chuckle, his gaze locked on your freshly waxed lady part. “But I’ll take my time before I devour you.” 

Taking a deep breath, you placed your hand on where his shoulder and neck met. All your clothes were discarded on the floor and you were nothing but naked in front of the very man you so deeply adored. He alone was the most perfect gift for you. “Boss…” your voice came out like a whisper, “About your upcoming transaction with Mr. Davis. H-He agrees to meet at the nightclub this Friday.” 

Sylus displayed a devilish smirk, noticing your effort in opening a subject to distract yourself from the compromising situation he had put you in. Though, instead of shaming you further, he had decided to play the part. “I’m surprised you managed to bargain with him,” he praised, slipping in a black, lace underwear up your legs. It barely covered your folds, and with Sylus’s warm breath tickling your cunny, you knew that your underwear would only be ripped apart sooner or later. “But then again, it must be your… irresistible charm that made him agree to meet up,” with a pause, he made a twirling gesture with his finger. “Turn around for me, sweetie.” 

You did as told, chest rising and falling deeply as your boss began to tie the corset behind you. It was too tight, but he seemed to have liked it that way, because your breasts were almost popping out of the padding. “I-I… Is it supposed to be this tight?” you asked, hesitantly, “I can’t breathe.” 

“It’s perfect.” He let out a deep chuckle before suddenly pushing you down on his bed. The sudden force left your heartbeat somersaulting, the anticipation and nervousness rising deep within you as you looked up at his predatory gaze. “Now, for the best part.” 

Sylus whipped out a handcuff and a blindfold from his drawer, and his first action was to grab your wrists and lock it within the silver handcuff around the headboard. The very next thing he did was cover your eyes with the blindfold, tying it neatly behind your head to deprive you of one of your five senses. 

“Sylus—?” You weren’t sure what was happening now, and hated that you couldn’t see his handsome face because of the blindfold. Your vision offered nothing but darkness, blinding you from whatever Sylus was planning to do with you in his king-sized bed. There were sounds of fabric rustling around you, the sound of clothing dropping to the floor, and the wet, sloppy noises near your face. When you felt the tip hitting your cheek, you realized it was Sylus touching himself, leaving you to imagine how he was stroking his hard length in front of your face, preparing his cock for a wild night ahead. “Are you—”

“Shh.” Your voice was cut off after he held a strong grip around your jaw, forcing your mouth open before the taste of his cocktip started entering your mouth. Not even halfway in, you already gagged from his cock. He was too huge for your mouth—too thick, too veiny, too lengthy. But nonetheless, despite the threads of saliva that waterfalled on the sides of your mouth, Sylus still shoved his entire length in. He didn’t care if you had started choking from his monstrous cock. He was too focused on burying his member in and out of your mouth, hitting your uvula, and allowing for tears to escape your eyes. “That mouth of yours is heaven for me, honey,” he said, your chin on his hand as he released a deep, guttural groan. “Move your tongue around it.” 

“Mmh—ngh!” Even if you were getting asphyxiated, fucking your throat was one of Sylus’s favorite foreplays. And so, like the obedient kitty you were, you started bobbing your head along to the rhythm of his thrusts. You also moved your tongue in circles around his shaft, and Sylus’s moans got louder, turning you on knowing that you were doing great at pleasuring the love of your life. You couldn’t even taste him enough, your mouth was too sore and numb at that point. 

Not even long after, he started angling his cock to your cheeks as if he was desperate to feel every inch of your mouth. When he pulled away, you released his member with a pop, and the string of saliva ended up coating your chin. While you couldn’t move your hand to wipe it off, you did try to move your wrists around the handcuff wondering if you could set yourself free. 

“Trying to break free?” Sylus’s voice was so near your right ear, the weight of his body becoming heavier on top of you. “We’re not done yet, darling.” 

A sloppy, open-mouthed kiss quickly calmed you down. You allowed Sylus to explore your mouth with his tongue, letting him lap you up like a meal he couldn’t stop eating. And with every bite on your lower lip, you were whimpering like a helpless cat. “S-Sylus,” you begged, “S-Sy… I…”

“Hmm?” His mouth was now on your neck, suckling and nibbling on the skin until they would leave purple marks all over. 

“Mmh… I want you.” 

“Not so soon, birthday girl.” Sylus’s teasing led to him pulling away from you. Now, you were unsure of his next move. But your chest only continued to move in an unsteady rhythm, the lack of sight heightening your auditory sense as a compromise. 

The next thing you knew, his manly hands started kneading at your breasts. He cupped them with such a force that made you stop breathing for a moment, focusing the sensation of his touch as he slightly pulled the padding of your corset to peek at one of your tits. In an instant, his mouth was attached to your nub. His tongue licked around your nipple, flicking it playfully before sucking and biting on your mounds. 

“Haaah!” 

“The twins did well in delivering this gift to you,” he made a subtle remark, releasing your tit from his mouth. His movements suggested he was moving down south, down to where your crotch was, and he only confirmed your thoughts when he began spreading your legs open and pulling your underwear to the side. “Look at how wet that pretty pussy is.” 

You moaned at the feeling of Sylus’s finger toying with your entrance. “T-The twins,” you barely said, squirming from the coil you were feeling inside your body. “What do you mean they delivered… the gift? Was it your idea after all?” 

Too bad you couldn’t see his face, but you were sure as hell that there was a triumphant smile spreading on it. “How else would they know your bra size, kitten?” he replied in a low voice before surprising you with the feeling of his tongue moving inside your slit, “Only I have access to your body.” 

Fuck, fuck. You were going insane. “Mhm—ngh! Aah!”

Sylus’s mouth was rough against your cunt, the tip of his nose tickling your clit as he continued spreading your labia apart to give himself better access inside your pussy. He completely devoured your sopping cunt, grunting and growling like a rabid dog as he alternated between french-kissing your pussy to burying his digits inside. His three fingers orchestrated deep and fast movements against your walls, with each stroke inside earning a wild whimper out of you. 

“Haaah—! Sylus, I… I can’t hold it… anymore.” 

He found your sweet spot soon enough, and chuckled darkly as you tried to squirm like a pathetic little kitty under him. With your legs dangling on his shoulders, he resumed abusing your sore cunt by fingering your vulva until you were at your seventh heaven. And as soon as you felt the need to pee, you knew he’d only pick up the speed of his fingers even more. 

“I-I… Please, Sy… I’m…”

For the first time in your life, you felt yourself squirting all over his bed. Your hips raised itself involuntarily, legs shaking violently on top of his shoulders. The overstimulation was sending you to ecstasy, as if you were in a place where every pleasure in the world was given to you. In your extremely vulnerable state, Sylus chose to grab the opportunity and forced all eight inches of his member inside. He hushed your moans and whimpers by kissing you on the mouth, his lips encasing yours in a loving and passionate exchange. 

This was the most erotic you had been with him. 

“You’re so fucking sexy to me, Y/N.” His cock moved fast and hard inside you. You could even feel his member twitching as your tight walls gripped him like vacuum, milking him of his every seed until he was fully drained. His lips then trailed around your jawline, then onto the valleys in between your breasts while he went on to thrust even rougher than the last. He plowed his cock inside you like there was no tomorrow, rutting and rutting and rutting like he was desperate to reach his own climax. “This pussy… Can’t get enough of your sweet pussy, kitten.” 

“Ah—aah! Mmh—ngh.” 

“More?”

“Y-Yes… please!” 

“Harder?”

“Mhmm!” 

“Faster?” 

“S-Sylus!” 

“Such a nasty girl you are,” he quipped, your hips now gripped by his strong hands as he sat in bed, readying for the final position. “Next time, I’m gonna eat your ass.” 

Gosh. You were already feeling limp under him. And when you felt his hands ripping your panties off, you knew it was game over for you. He was a hungry beast whose desire for lust would make him the worst sinner in hell. You couldn’t contain the loudness of your moans and whimpers as Sylus started thrusting into you at an otherworldly speed, your cunt feeling the soreness of his every slam. The skin-slapping sound dominated his entire room as your slick coated his entire length. At that point, he began biting on your lower leg, his cock doing its last twitch deep inside your cavern. He was balls deep inside, his bollocks slapping against your pussy with every jostle. 

“C-Cum…” you pleaded, “Inside me… Please.” 

But to your disappointment, Sylus pulled out. You didn’t know where he was releasing his seed until you felt the warm liquid shooting at your stomach. Three times you had asked him to cum inside, and he still continued to refuse. You thought your birthday would have been an exception, but Sylus was too smart for that. He knew knocking you up would ruin his plans. Getting you pregnant would make him lose his chances with her. 

“You can sleep on my bed tonight, darling.” Sylus easily released your hand from the cuffs with his evol, and did his own effort in untying the blindfold around your eyes. Little did he know that your tired eyes actually carried pain inside. “Close your eyes now. I’ll take care of the rest.”

You watched as he walked toward his nightstand, oblivious to the pessimistic thoughts swirling in your mind. If only she never existed in his life. If only she was you instead. 

“Sylus.” You fixed your gaze on his face. “I love you.”

His eyes widened in panic for a moment before he masked it with indifference. It was as if your declaration had caught him off guard, as if your years of devotion hadn’t already made it clear how deeply in love you were. 

“You shouldn’t.”

~~

The N109 Zone’s most famous nightclub was alive with pulsating lights and thumping bass on a Friday night, a den of excess and shadows where shady deals and dangerous liaisons were also par for the course. Sylus was dressed in his signature dark attire, leaning against a plush booth in the corner, and the red glow from the neon lights flickering off his white hair and crimson eyes. Meanwhile, you, draped in a red revealing dress that accentuated your every curve, moved with foxy grace as you joined Sylus at the booth.

Let’s just say Sylus didn’t exactly approve of your dress tonight. He thought it was revealing too much skin that was supposedly for his eyes only. But ever since the night of your birthday where he didn’t return your declaration of love, you started rebelling against your boss. Everything he disliked, you did out of spite. You did them out of the bitterness boiling inside you. 

Across from you two, in a secluded corner of the club, sat Sylus’s business partner, a man whose sharp suit and cold gaze reflected a ruthless demeanor. The table between you was littered with documents and blueprints, a clear indication of the shady business transaction underway—an armory deal of massive proportions, weapons, and munitions that could alter the balance of power in the underworld. Sylus’s arsenal of weapons could already destroy Linkon City if he wanted to, but there was no fun in that. It would be too much an easy disposal.

Nonetheless, Sylus’s eyes sparkled with approval as he glanced at the stacks of weaponry displayed before him. “I must say, I’m impressed,” he remarked with a sly grin. “The quality of your armory is unparalleled, Davis. You really outdid yourself this time.”

The business partner, clearly pleased, gave a curt nod. “I aim to please. But payment in cash alone doesn’t always satisfy, does it?”

Sylus leaned back, his gaze shifting to you. You were just settling next to him, your quiet presence commanding everyone’s attention as the low neckline of your red dress drew admiring glances from his business partner. Sylus was quick to notice the man’s eyes lingering on your breasts, a hint of predatory interest flickering in the old man’s gaze.

“Seems like my partner here is quite taken with you,” Sylus mused, hinting at a dangerous edge in his voice. “How about it? Would you like something other than money for your trouble?”

Mr. Davis’s eyes never left you as he smirked, a flicker of greed clouding his gaze. It was obvious to everyone in that booth that the old geezer was undressing you with his eyes. “What do you have in mind?”

Sylus’s smile grew sharper. “Y/N here is quite the treasure. If you’re interested, she could be yours for the night. Do what you want with her. What do you say?”

Unbelievable! Stunned by his words, you quickly turned to Sylus in protest. You couldn’t believe he was offering you like some whore to that old man, but you had to hide your disgust after meeting Sylus’s glowing carmine eyes shooting you a knowing look. Just play along and stay quiet, you could almost hear his voice in your head. 

Mr. Davis’s perverted gaze remained fixed on you, clearly tempted as he battled with the demons in his head. And at your boss’s signal, you were ordered to walk towards Mr. Davis apprehensively, sitting on his lap while keeping the disgust you were feeling from showing. His hand soon grazed your thigh, the other squeezing your breast. “That’s a tempting offer,” commented the old man, a triumphant grin on display, “But I’d be a fool to refuse a bad bitch like her.”

“Good,” Sylus said, his tone suddenly serious as he slid a sleek, black gun from the table. He idly toyed with the handgun, clearly unfazed. “Let’s finalize our deal then. I’ll just take this gun you’ve provided. Don’t mind if I do a little ‘quality testing’,” he added with a chilling smile, loading the magazine with .45 ACP bullets.

The business partner’s eyes widened in realization as Sylus’s hand tightened around the weapon. Panic soon flashed across Mr. Davis’s face before he desperately pushed you off his lap and scrambled to his feet, hoping to de-escalate the rift he had caused with the Onychinus leader. “Wait, Mr. Sylus! I-I didn’t mean to offend. I’m not going to steal your lady, I swear! Don’t—”

But just as you expected, Sylus’s expression remained cold and unyielding. With a swift, practiced motion, he pulled the trigger. The sound of the gunshot was sharp and final, cutting through the pulsating music and leaving a deadly silence in its wake. Mr. Davis quickly dropped to the floor, his eyes wide open and the hole on the side of his head leaking with dark, red blood. 

Your eyes remained cool and detached as you watched the scene unfold, your expression too unreadable for the killer next to you. You’ve seen worse things while living in the N109 Zone, right? was Sylus’s inner thoughts as he placed the gun back on the table, his gaze steady while regarding the now lifeless body of his former business partner. The carpet was now drenched with an unsightly amount of blood. 

Just then, the twins, Luke and Kieran immediately swung the door open with a guarded stance, worried that something had happened to the Onychinus leader whom you all served under. But upon looking at Mr. Davis’s fresh corpse sprawled out on the floor, both twins merely shrugged it off, praising their boss for dealing with the old man in a brutal fashion. 

“Leave us for a while,” Sylus instructed the twins, pulling you closer by gripping your waist, “If any of Davis’s men try to come in, kill them with no mercy.” 

“Roger that, boss.” 

As soon as the door was closed, Sylus turned to you, you recognized a demonic glow in his eyes as he tugged at the neckline of your dress. “You,” he spoke under his breath, “are testing my patience.” 

~~

You weren’t sure how to feel about it.

Heck, you couldn’t tell if you were even turned on by it, but Sylus fucking you in front of a dead man did bring in a rush of adrenaline in you. This was the fourth time he had killed a man for desiring you, and while he would usually play it off and say he was just feeling bloodthirsty at the time those incidents happened, this was the first time he was compelled to actually touch you next to a man he had just mercilessly shot. It was as though he was trying to prove a point, that dead or alive, no other man would have the pleasure of having you. 

“S-Sylus,” you let out a whimper, knees beginning to feel sore as your boss continued to hit you from behind, hips snapping against your bum in a rough, merciless manner. A stinging sensation was soon felt on your butt cheek as Sylus sent a hard, crisp slap on your ass. “Mmh—!” 

His nails dug into your hips, jostling you forwards and backwards so your ass could meet the base of his cock with how deep he was plowing himself into you. You had already creamed around his member multiple times that night, too satiated by the possessiveness Sylus was showing towards you, and yet, the signs of him stopping seemed to be a far end of the line. 

“Did you enjoy my show, kitten?” he asked, a question borne from feelings of spite, “Did you like how he was gawking at your tits? Look at his pathetic face now. You see that?” 

Sylus grabbed you by the face and forced you to look at Mr. Davis’s lifeless body for a good minute. A minute to remember such a ghastly image for the rest of your life. And only after he was satisfied at the fright in your eyes did he start pulling you by the hair, only to then wrap a tight hand around your neck. You couldn’t breathe. You were choking from his hand, restrained to receive any bit of air down your throat. The strong smell of iron, gun powder, and leather was also beginning to intoxicate you, and you knew you were a minute away from passing out. But Sylus was too enraged to stop, his mind was a toxic fire you couldn’t easily extinguish and the only thing you could do was allow him to take his anger out on you. 

“Hnngh! Sy… Sylus…” you cried, moaning as his hard thrust almost sent you forward to his business partner’s corpse. The pressure on your windpipe was too strong that barely any sound came out of your mouth. “Sylus, I’m all y-yours, my love. Ah—aah! All… yours.” 

He did loosen his grip on your neck, because he had pulled you by the chin to spit into your mouth. A string of saliva connected your tongue to his, your chest undulating in heavy breaths as he began to grope your tits from behind. “Dress like a whore again,” he whispered a warning into your ear, “and I wouldn’t hesitate to treat you like one.” 

Your mind, too numbed by the overstimulation all over your body, couldn’t fully grasp the words he had just spoken. All you knew was that he pressed you further down the carpeted floor, with your ass high up and your body down low. The next thing he did was to spread your butt cheeks apart to gape at the exact hole he was destroying. 

Sore. Too sore. Too numb. Too… Too… “Sylus, I’m g-gonna…” 

“Fuck,” he cussed, accelerating his thrusts at an animalistic speed, his deep breaths turning into a guttural groan as he chased his high. His cum was thick when they landed on your face, and the taste was sweet and salty when he forced the rest of his cum onto the back of your throat. You gagged as he hit your uvula, drool oozing at the corner of your mouth as you choked and yet managed to swallow every drop of his semen. 

Like a good girl, for him. Always. 

You didn’t exactly black out afterward. You were caught in a liminal state, not fully awake but not unconscious either, as you collapsed onto the floor. Sylus discarded you like a toy he’d grown tired of. If you had been more aware, you would have immediately noticed the abrupt shift in his behavior. The sound of his fading footsteps made you realize that the man you loved so obsessively had just left you in that booth, right next to a dead man.

“Y/N?”

“Y/N. Hey, you okay?” 

The coat soon enveloping your body wasn’t Sylus’s; it belonged to one of the twins, and you could feel yourself being carried in his arms. 

“Luke…?” you murmured weakly. 

“No, it’s Kieran,” he clarified, since his older brother was occupied with disposing of Mr. Davis’s body. “I’m taking you home.” 

You clung to his shoulder, your heavy-lidded eyes searching for Sylus’s distinctive white hair. “Wha—? Where’s he? Where is Sy—” 

“Boss already left.” His words felt like a blow. “You know he’s dangerous when he’s angry, so you should just go home for today.” 

You tried to wriggle free from Kieran’s grasp, confused by the sudden turn of events. “But what did I do? Why is he angry with me?” 

“It’s not you, just… complicated,” were the last words you heard before exhaustion overtook you, unaware that you were now outside the nightclub. 

Continuing to squirm from Kieran’s hold, you cried, “What do you mean complicated!”

“Luke and I tried to warn you, Y/N,” he said, grimly, as if he felt bad for you. “You’re not supposed to mess with his emotions. Those feelings are reserved for another.”

~~

The night air in the N109 Zone felt heavy and suffocating. It had been a month since Sylus had abruptly cut off contact with you, leaving you in a state of uncertainty, overthinking, and anger. When he had asked you to take a break from work, you already found his command suspicious, and then the silence that followed was a deafening confirmation of your suspicion. No texts, no calls, and every attempt to visit Onychinus’s base was continuously met with cold dismissal. 

With this, you found yourself at your makeshift gun range, the repetitive bang of the shots echoing in the dimly lit space. The targets were riddled with holes, each bullet a release of your pent-up frustration. Your thoughts were a tempest of spiteful musings: how you should have maxed out his credit card for everything it was worth if you had known he was going to just dump you. The thought of doing so now felt petty, but it also served as a bitter reminder of how easily he had discarded you that night.

But amid your rage, a more serious thought began to surface. Sylus’s avoidance wasn’t merely a cruel game or a sudden whim; it seemed to hint at something deeper, something more troubling. Was there something he wasn’t telling you? Had something happened that he couldn’t or wouldn’t explain?

You should probably confront him, but you needed a sign. Barging into Onychinus’s base without prior notice would be a suicide wish, so you had to have a reason on showing up unannounced. A sign. You desperately needed one, and perhaps the universe was toying with you, but the very sign you were looking for came in the form of a mechanical crow that landed on the lightpost. Its red eyes glowed like lasers through the night, tilting its head as it looked at your way. 

“Caw! Caw!” 

“Mephisto,” you breathed a sigh of relief. Did Sylus send him to watch over you? 

With your confidence growing back, you decided to finally confront the situation head-on. This cold war would bring you nothing but a painful whirl of overthinking. And so, you returned to Onychinus’s base that night, your anger tempered by a new, steely resolve. As usual, the base was as imposing and foreboding as ever, its corridors silent except for the occasional echo of footsteps.

Where is everyone? 

As you neared Sylus’s quarters, your heart pounded with a mix of dread and anticipation. You approached his door, and through the thin walls, you could hear soft, unfamiliar voices. Your breath was caught in your throat as you recognized a woman’s voice, distinct and unfamiliar, but laced with a strange resonance that made your skin crawl.

“From the beginning, you trapped me here, forced me to resonate with you, and even said we’re ‘the same’... One wouldn’t treat a stranger like that, so… don’t tell me you like me. Is this all so you can get my attention?” 

…

“You’re so gullible, kitten.” 

The twins, who were lounging nearby and keeping an eye on things as usual, saw you by their boss’s door and exchanged knowing glances. Luke, with his usual smirk, leaned in. “Oh, look who decided to show up. You’re just in time.”

Kieran, with a more serious tone, added, “He’s got a guest in there. A hunter from Linkon, with an Aether Core, no less.”

Your heart sank. The mention of an Aether Core was a dagger to your already shattered heart. Sylus’s connection to you had always been complex, but it was a lot different with this other woman he had been keeping an eye on for the longest time. They were marked by their shared Aether Core, which tied them together in ways you could never fully understand. To hear that he had met the girl he had been searching for with the same rare core was like a death knell.

“Since when did Sylus bring her here?” you asked the twins, struggling to keep your emotions in check. This was the real reason Sylus had asked you to take a break—he knew that the presence of this girl would push you to the edge of losing all sense of morality. For the first time in your life, he saw you as a threat. An enemy. 

Luke responded with a shrug. “A couple weeks ago after she leaked her information in The Nest. Boss has been trying to resonate with her, you see. So don’t mind their little bonding moments.” 

Kieran took the initiative to drag his older brother away. “We gotta get going. Don’t cause a scene, Y/N. You won’t like it when our boss is angry.” 

Disregarding the twins’ words, you pressed your hand against the door, the muffled sounds of conversation and the soft rustling of fabric seeping through. The realization of what this meant was crushing. Sylus’s soul was bound to this new woman in ways you could never compete with. And the anguish of this discovery broke you inside. 

Why? Why can’t it be me? 

With trembling hands, you turned the knob and pushed open the door just a crack to peer inside. The sight that met your eyes was enough to confirm your worst fears. Sylus was there, his attention fully on the woman from Linkon that he had pinned down on his bed, a tenderness in his gaze that had never been directed at you. 

Unable to bear the sight any longer, you quietly closed the door and retreated, and Sylus’s head turning in your direction only made you hide even further. You were already taking hurried steps before he could catch up to you. But then again, what kind of idiot would he be to leave that fragile girl alone to run after a woman he didn’t even care about? You were nothing but a placeholder for her, warming her seat temporarily before she finally came into the picture. And now that she was here, you were easily cast aside like worn-out clothing, no longer bearing any purpose for him. 

“…I hate you,” you muttered, the words barely a whisper as they escaped from your trembling lips. Running through the hallways had quickly become exhausting, each step felt like a drag with the weight of your emotions. “I hate you, Sylus.”

Your hands, shaking uncontrollably, grasped the Beryl pendant that hung around your neck. The sharp pain from the necklace’s chain digging into your skin only added to your anguish. And with a frustrated cry, you yanked the pendant off and hurled it down the hallway. The pendant skittered across the polished floor, its once-beautiful gleam now discarded like mere rubbish.

“What did we tell you?” The twins’ imaginary voices were mocking you in your head, their taunts reverberating through your thoughts as you headed out of the base with no footsteps following you behind. It became clear to you that Sylus had chosen to stay with the girl instead of chasing after you. “Just because boss gave you a chance, doesn’t mean he’ll actually date you! You poor thing! You’re just a game he likes to play!” 

“Stop. Stop!” You had to press your hands into your ear, suppressing the torture that your mind was creating.  

You decided to run away. Far, far away from Onychinus’s base. Far away from Sylus’s reach. 

Your footsteps echoed through the deserted streets, your mind still reeling in jealousy from the events you saw earlier. The image of the woman pinned under him, her dark hair and fair skin, had your hands shaking from the anger in your heart. She was as beautiful as he described, as radiant as he’d often whisper about in his dreams. And now that she was within his reach, did you really think he would let her go? 

~~

The night was cold, the air biting at your skin as you walked aimlessly, lost in a whirlwind of emotions and tortuous thoughts. The betrayal, the hurt, the lingering sense of being used—all of it churned within you, making your steps heavy and your heart even heavier.

“I… hate you,” you murmured under your breath. 

As you turned down a dark alley, a sudden prickle of unease crawled up your spine. You quickened your pace, but the sound of a second set of footsteps followed closely behind you. Panic set in as soon as you realized you were being stalked. 

Before you could react, however, a shadowy figure emerged from the darkness, blocking your path. The man’s eyes gleamed with malice, a cruel smile spreading across his face. “You no longer have Sylus to protect you,” he sneered, his voice dripping with menace. It was one of Davis’s men. “You're all alone now, and I'm going to make you pay for the death of our master.”

Fear gripped you like a tightrope, but before the man could take another step, a swirling mist of black-red enveloped him. The pressure of the mist seemed to squeeze his entire body, forcing him to his knees, his screams of terror cut short as if the mist were obeying commands from an unseen master.

You turned around, your heart pounding, to see Sylus standing at the edge of the alley. His domineering eyes bore into yours in a mixture of curiosity and cold calculation. “Should I kill this guy? Yes or no?” His voice was low and raspy. “My decision depends on you, kitten.”

Your gaze hardened after hearing the term of endearment he was now recycling with the hunter girl from Linkon. “I can handle him,” was your cold reply, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you. You drew your gun with a swift motion and fired repeatedly, each shot bouncing in the narrow alley. The man’s body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

Sylus watched you with an appraising look. “Impressive. Still feisty as ever.”

You then pointed your gun towards him, but keeping a safe enough distance. “Why were you following me?” you demanded, your tone cold as ice.

A chilling laugh echoed through the alleyway. “My own assistant wants to kill her boss? Now, isn’t that a spectacle?”

“Shut up!” you yelled, finger tightening on the trigger. “I don’t care if one bullet won’t kill you. I can shoot you enough times to make sure you’d at least feel some pain.”

Sylus sighed before reaching into his pocket and revealed the necklace, the red beryl pendant glinting in the dim light. “You forgot your gift,” he said, his voice softening ever so slightly.

You stared at the necklace, feeling a sting in your heart that you couldn’t ignore. “I’m not worthy of such a gift,” you replied monotonously, “Give it to her if you want. And also, take this night as my formal resignation as your assistant."

Sylus’s eyes widened, a rare look of surprise crossing his features. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. It seemed as if he was truly, genuinely stunned, caught off guard by your decision.

I can’t back out now. You repeated it like a desperate mantra in your mind as you turned and walked away, leaving Sylus standing alone in the dark alley, the necklace still clutched in his hand. You were done with his games, done with being played. You were determined to leave him behind, until suddenly, he vanished into a puff of black smoke. Dark feathers floated in the spot where he had stood moments ago. To your shock, he reappeared behind you, his hand forcefully grabbing your chin to make you look up at him.

You struggled, trying to wrench his hand away. “Let go—”

But he silenced you with a bruising kiss, locking his lips around yours despite your desperate punches to his chest. He only pulled away when he felt your warm tears streaming down your face, looking at you with a gaze full of unwanted sympathy. Sympathy that cut deeper than any blade.

“Are you happy she’s back in your life?” you choked out, your voice trembling as you stared at him with tear-filled eyes.

Sylus responded with a hesitant hum. “I am.”

You inhaled shakily, his answer shattering your heart. “Then, why are you here?”

“...I don’t know.” His crimson eyes reflected the sorrowful glow of the moon peeking from behind his head.

“Do you intend to keep me as your lover?” you asked, forcing him to confront his true intentions.

Sylus took a long, agonizing moment to respond, as if wrestling with a tumultuous storm of emotions—the pros and cons, the rights and wrongs. Finally, he spoke, and his words were a dagger to your soul.

“No,” he said at last, his hand retreating from your face. He stepped back and turned the distance between you into a chasm of heartbreak. “It’s been nice working with you, Y/N. I’ll send you a year’s worth of salary for your dedication to me. This should be the last time we meet.”

The weight of his words crashed down on you like an earthquake, and the full reality of your situation made it hard for you to breathe. Yes, it was a gut-punch. You were breaking in half, your heart shattering beyond repair because the pain was too much. It was all too much for a person to take, and it twisted something dark inside you.

“If I can’t have you,” you began, your voice shaking with an amalgam of rage and despair, “then no one can.”

Sylus’s eyes narrowed. “Y/N, you won’t dare—”

“I’ll kill her,” you spat, your tone dripping with venom. Your vow was laced with a genuine resolve, as if it were a promise you had embedded in stone. “The next time I see her, I’ll end her in the most brutal way I can. I swear it.”

His eyes flashed with a sinister light, one eye emitting a faint glow like a candlelight in a dark room. “If you try to go near her,” he said, his voice low and menacing, “I’ll kill you first.”

A twisted smile spread across your face, and madness began to gleam in your eyes. Driven to the brink of insanity, you laughed—a wild, almost feral sound that scared even the rats hiding in the darkest places.

“Then, do it,” you challenged, the final thread of your sanity snapping as he raised a finger, and the tendrils of his black-red mist soon swirling around you and crushing your bones with its pressure. “You’ve already taken everything from me, Sylus. Finish what you started.” 

SECOND PART

[kaces-graham-crackers]

Stirring the Quiet - Quiet Signals

Jenna Ortega x Female Reader

Summary: A week after poetry night, Jenna and Y/N grow closer, leading to a movie night. After a bit of trouble at the theater and a quiet late-night diner, Y/N is left wondering if there's more to their connection than just friendship.

Word Count: 889

The following week at The Daily Grind, I was caught up in my usual routine when Jenna strolled in, her presence immediately drawing my attention. She smiled warmly, and I tried to play it cool, returning her smile with only a slight flush creeping into my cheeks.

"Slick, got a minute to talk?" Jenna asked, casually leaning against the counter with an easy smile.

She glanced at the menu momentarily, then looked up at me with a mischievous glint. "You know what? I think I'll switch it up today. How's that caramel macchiato? Any good?"

I raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Going off script, huh? Yeah, it's a solid choice, one of my favorites, actually."

Jenna grinned. "Then I'll take your word for it. Caramel macchiato, please."

As I made her drink, I couldn't help but tease, "Didn't take you for the adventurous type when it comes to coffee."

She shrugged, leaning against the counter. "Hey, you gotta keep life interesting, right? Plus, you make it sound like it's worth the risk."

I chuckled as I finished up, handing her the cup. "No pressure, but I might judge you based on whether you like it."

Jenna took a sip, her eyes lighting up immediately. "Okay, not bad, Slick. You might just know what you're talking about."

I smirked. "Told you. My recommendations are gold."

She laughed, and before I knew it, we found ourselves in a quiet corner of the café, conversation flowing as easily as ever.

"Read anything good lately?" Jenna asked, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of her cup.

I grinned, glad she asked. "Yeah, actually. I just finished House of Leaves. Have you read it?"

Jenna's eyes widened, her interest clearly piqued. "House of Leaves? Oh man, that book is a trip. It's one of those stories that just... stick with you. What did you think?"

I leaned forward a little, warming to the topic. "It's honestly one of the most unsettling things I've ever read. The house keeps shifting like it's alive, and the endless hallways that shouldn't exist... It's like a labyrinth that traps your mind as much as the characters."

Jenna nodded eagerly, her voice dropping slightly. "And the way it's written, with all the different footnotes and stories within stories... it feels like you're falling down the rabbit hole along with the characters."

"Exactly!" I said, feeling the excitement rise in my chest. "It's not just the story; it's how the book is physically laid out. The text starts spiraling or shrinking, and you feel claustrophobic like the walls are closing in on you."

Jenna smiled, clearly impressed. "It plays with your sense of reality. You're constantly questioning what's real and what's not. It's like the book becomes this haunted object you're holding."

I chuckled. "Yeah, I had to put it down a couple times just to clear my head. It really messes with you in a way no other book does."

Jenna's gaze was thoughtful as she sipped her drink. "I think the scariest part is that the horror isn't always in your face. It's subtle, creeping in through the cracks. That whole idea of a house being bigger on the inside than the outside? That freaked me out more than any monster ever could."

I nodded. "Right? It's the idea that something's not quite right, but you can't put your finger on it. That lingering sense of unease stays with you, even after you've finished reading."

Jenna leaned back in her chair, a smile playing on her lips. "You know, not a lot of people appreciate horror like that. It's all about tension and atmosphere, not just the jump scares."

I laughed softly. "Yeah, it's rare to find someone who gets that."

She tilted her head slightly. "Guess we're both a little obsessed with that eerie, psychological side of things, huh?"

"Looks like it," I replied, smiling. "We've got good taste."

Jenna smiled and nodded, taking another sip of her coffee.

"You know, speaking of that kind of slow-building tension, there's this movie I've been meaning to check out. The Hollow Reflection is coming out soon—it's kind of a psychological thriller. I've been dying to see it," I said, absentmindedly stirring my drink.

Jenna raised an eyebrow, leaning forward a little. "The Hollow Reflection, huh? What's it about?"

I shrugged, trying to remember the trailer I'd seen. "It's one of those films where you can't tell if the main character is losing their mind or if there's really something haunting them. A lot of creeping dread, weird symbolism, and by the end, you're just as confused and terrified as the characters."

Jenna's eyes lit up. "That sounds like my kind of movie. I love films that mess with your head like that. Maybe I'll tag along if you're going."

I blinked, caught off guard by her suggestion. "Wait, are you serious?"

She smirked, setting her cup down on the table. "Yeah, I've been meaning to see other actors' acting methods in horror movies. Seems like the perfect excuse."

I hesitated, still trying to wrap my head around that Jenna wanted to hang out with me outside the café. "Are you sure? I mean, wouldn't it be weird for you to go with—"

Jenna cut me off with a laugh, shaking her head. "Y/N, relax. I'm just a person who likes horror movies, too. Besides, it could be fun."

I nodded slowly, a grin tugging at my lips. "Yeah, okay. That actually sounds like a lot of fun."

We sat there for a moment, the weight of the conversation hanging in the air. It wasn't a date. It was just a casual hangout. Although there were implications, that this could be something more made my stomach flip.

Jenna stood to leave as she grabbed her bag from the back of her chair. She gave me a playful wave. "See you soon, Slick. And don't forget about that movie."

I watched her walk out of the café, feeling a strange mix of excitement and nerves swirling inside me. There was something in the air—something new. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but I knew one thing: I was looking forward to that movie night.

A few days passed, and the anticipation of movie night made me jittery. Whenever I thought about it, I had to shake the thought from my head to stay focused. It wasn't just the movie—I couldn't stop replaying our conversation in the café, Jenna's smile, her playful teasing. There was something... different about it.

On the night of the movie, I was already at the theater, standing in front of the giant neon sign that flickered "Now Showing. The Hollow Reflection." My hands were stuffed in my hoodie pockets as I shifted on my feet, nerves buzzing like live wires under my skin.

I rechecked my phone, my thumb hovering over the screen. It was just a movie. Not a big deal. Not a date. But then again…

"Hey, Slick."

Her voice cut through my anxious thoughts, and I spun around, spotting Jenna walking toward me. She looked effortlessly cool in a leather jacket and ripped jeans.

I smiled, feeling some of the tension drain from my body. "Woah! You're on time. Impressive."I smirked, lightly elbowing her arm.

She rolled her eyes, smirking as she came to stand beside me. "I'm punctual when I wanna be. Ready for some mind-bending horror?"

"Born ready," I replied, my voice coming out steadier than I felt inside.

Luckily, this theater was unpopular, so few people were there. We made our way into the theater, grabbed our tickets, grabbed some snacks, and found our seats toward the back, right in the middle of the row. The theater was dimly lit, the smell of popcorn filling the air. The excitement from the other moviegoers hummed softly around us. I couldn't shake the feeling that this night was more significant than it seemed.

As the trailers played, I found myself glancing at Jenna from the corner of my eye. She was focused on the screen, but there was this subtle energy between us as if we knew something had hung in the air.

Then the movie started.

The slow-building dread and tense atmosphere immediately set the tone. The psychological twists began creeping in early, and before I knew it, I was fully immersed in the story. Jenna leaned forward, completely engrossed. Occasionally, she'd make a small comment under her breath or give me a quick glance when a particularly creepy moment happened. I couldn't help but grin.

About halfway through, the movie hit a particularly intense scene—the main character was trapped in an abandoned building, the lights flickering ominously. The tension was almost unbearable, and I could feel Jenna tense beside me. I could hear her breath hitch as something moved in the shadows on the screen, the sound design making it even creepier.

The cool night air wrapped around us as Jenna and I stepped out of the theater. It should have been a peaceful moment, but I noticed a group of three guys hanging near the concession stand, their eyes lingering a little too long on Jenna.

One of them, a guy in a worn leather jacket, smirked as we passed. "Hey, isn't that Jenna Ortega?" he said to his buddies. He took a few steps forward, grinning at her. "You should come hang out with us."

Jenna gave a polite smile, clearly used to this kind of attention, "Hey, Thank you for the offer, but I'm exhausted, and I need to get home to get some rest." she continued walking. I could sense the shift in her posture, though—she was uncomfortable. I stuck closer to her side, hoping the guy would take the hint.

But, of course, he didn't. "Come on, don't be like that!" he called after us, voice rising as he moved closer. "We're just trying to be friendly."

Jenna's smile faded, and I could feel her tensing up beside me. The other two guys chuckled behind him, watching the whole scene like it was a show.

That's when I stepped between Jenna and the guy, blocking his path. "She's not interested," I said firmly. "Leave her alone."

Surprised for a second, the guy stopped before his expression turned sour. "What's your problem?" he snapped, glaring down at me. "We're just talking to her."

"No," I said, standing my ground. "You're bothering her. Back off."

Before things could escalate, one of the theater staff came over, noticing the commotion. "Hey, is there a problem here?" he asked, his voice calm but authoritative.

The leather Jacket guy sneered but didn't say anything. The theater employee stepped forward, pulling out his phone. "If you don't leave now, I'll call the police."

The guy looked like he wanted to say something, but after a tense moment, he scoffed and turned to his friends. "Whatever, man. Let's get out of here."

As the three of them walked off, grumbling, the employee nodded at me. "You two okay?"

I nodded, feeling the adrenaline still rushing through me. "Yeah, we're fine. Thanks for stepping in."

Jenna touched my arm gently, her voice soft. "You didn't have to do that."

I turned to her, my heart still racing. "Yeah, I did. I'm not going to let anyone treat you like that."

Jenna smiled, a warmth in her eyes. "Thanks, Y/N. I mean it."

As we exited the theater, I noticed two familiar figures waiting by the exit—Jenna's bodyguards. They straightened up when they saw us approach.

"Hey, Jenna," Greg, the shorter and more talkative one, greeted her with a nod. "Everything okay?"

Jenna smiled at them. "Yeah, all good. We had a great time until some jerks bothered us on the way out, but Y/N stepped in."

Will, the taller and more serious one, frowned slightly, his gaze flicking between Jenna and me. "What happened?"

I was about to brush it off, but Jenna jumped in. "Some guys trying to hit on me. Y/N got in between the leader following me and the theater staff taking care of the rest."

Greg grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Slick here playing the hero, huh? Nice work."

I felt my ears heat up, trying to laugh it off. 'Aw man, even her guards are catching on,' I thought.

Jenna smiled and turned to me, clearly amused by the whole situation. "I told Will and Greg to stay outside tonight. I wanted a normal night out. But I guess I could've at least let Will trail us."

Will's brow furrowed, looking mildly frustrated. "Next time, just send us a text or call if something like this happens again."

Jenna shrugged. "Agreed. But no need to worry now; it's in the past, and Y/N had my back."

Greg gave me a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Thanks for the Backup, Y/N; we appreciate it."

I shrugged, trying to downplay it. "It's the sensible thing to do. I don't tolerate bullies or jerks of any caliber."

Will's expression softened slightly, and he gave me a nod. "Good to know. Thanks for stepping in."

As we walked toward the street, Jenna turned to me, her eyes bright with excitement. "Hey, do you want to grab a quick bite? There's this diner I love that is not too far from here. It's called "The Velvet Spoon."

I blinked, a bit surprised by the suggestion. "Uh, yeah, sure. I didn't realize you were still hungry."

She laughed, "Well, the popcorn didn't exactly fill me up. Plus, you've gotta check out this spot. Best secret diner in L.A."

"Secret, huh? I could go for a bite. I'll just catch the bus—"

Jenna cut me off, shaking her head. "You're not taking the bus. I've got my car. I'll give you a ride."

I paused for a moment. "I don't live far, and honestly, I didn't want to lose my parking spot at my apartment. Parking's a nightmare over there."

Jenna smiled knowingly. "I get it. City parking is its own level of hell. But don't worry, I'll drop you off later. You just have to see this place. It's worth it."

I didn't argue further. I wouldn't turn down a ride in Jenna Ortega's car. I followed her toward the parking lot; her sleek black car awaited us. The guards, Will and Greg, were already by the vehicle, giving us space but keeping an eye out. I climbed into the passenger seat, the car's leather interior far fancier than anything I was used to.

Jenna started the engine, the car purring to life as we pulled out of the lot. She shot me a quick smile. "So, have you at least heard of the name anywhere on the internet?"

"Nope, I don't think I've ever heard a place like that before."

"Good. People are doing well keeping the secret, then." Jenna explained. "It's got this super diverse menu, something for everyone. Breakfast all day, burgers, vegan stuff—whatever you're in the mood for."

"Sounds like heaven," I said, already imagining the food. "How'd you find it?"

"I used to come here all the time when I was younger, especially after shoots. The staff is super friendly, and the vibe is chill, despite who you might see there."

I raised an eyebrow, curious. "Who might I see?"

She grinned but didn't give any more details, leaving me hanging. We made small talk during the drive—about the movie, the rude guys from earlier, and Jenna's favorite spots in the city. Her enthusiasm was contagious, and I found myself laughing and chatting easily with her.

Before long, we pulled up to the diner. The neon sign flickered above, casting a warm glow over the front of the building. It looked like a fancy, retro-style joint from the outside, where you might expect to see velvet ropes and a waiting list.

"Wow," I said, glancing up at the sign. "This place looks… fancy. Am I underdressed?"

Jenna laughed, waving off my concern. "Don't worry. It just looks fancy on the outside. Inside, it's got this old-school, 60s diner vibe. You'll love it."

I stepped out of the car, Will and Greg already holding the door open. Jenna thanked them with a nod, and they hung back by the entrance as we walked inside. As soon as we stepped through the door, I was hit by the warm, nostalgic feeling of an old-timey diner. The red leather booths, checkered floors, and neon signs on the walls made the place look like it had stayed the same since the 60s. It was like stepping into a time capsule.

"Whoa," I whispered to myself. "This place is seriously retro."

Jenna smiled, clearly amused by my reaction. "Told you it's got charm."

As we walked toward our booth, my eyes darted around the room. Then, it hit me. The people sitting at the booths weren't just regular diners. They were celebrities—faces I recognized immediately. A-listers. My jaw almost dropped when I spotted actors like Zendaya, Timothée Chalamet, and even Florence Pugh casually eating at tables like this. It must have been their regular hangout spot.

I leaned over to Jenna, whispering, "Um, are those…?"

Jenna smirked. "Yep. Welcome to Hollywood's secret diner."

I tried to play it cool, but inside, I was freaking out. I was used to being around celebrities, but not all at once! Seeing all these big shot stars in this diner made me envious, 'I wish they were in The Daily Grind in these sorts of numbers.' The fact that Jenna was also one of them suddenly felt surreal.

We slid into a booth, and I tried to focus on the menu. Jenna laughed softly at my reaction but didn't make a big deal out of it, which I appreciated. Instead, we dove into a conversation. Jenna grinned as she flipped open the menu, her eyes lighting up as she pointed to a section near the top. "Okay, first things first—you have to try the pancakes here. They're ridiculously fluffy. I swear, they could probably double as pillows."

I chuckled, glancing at the menu. "Pancakes? At night? What a rebel, Ms. Ortega."

"Trust me," Jenna said, nodding enthusiastically. "This place has breakfast all day, and the pancakes are like a secret weapon. I always get them with their maple butter syrup. It's life-changing."

I skimmed over the menu, intrigued. "Maple butter syrup, huh? That sounds… dangerous."

"It is, but in the best way," she replied, leaning back in her seat. "They also have this burger that's a mix between a classic diner burger and something you'd get at a gourmet spot. It's called the 'Hollywood Hustler,' and it's got this bacon jam that I could eat by the spoonful."

I laughed, shaking my head. "Okay, gourmet pancakes and burgers. This place already sounds like it's on another level."

Jenna flipped to another menu page and pointed to a dessert section. "But honestly, if you're still hungry after that, the milkshakes are killer. They've got these over-the-top flavors, like peanut butter and strawberry cheesecake. And everything here is just… comforting. It's why I love this place."

I raised an eyebrow, glancing around the diner. "It definitely has that vibe, like one of those hidden gems you wouldn't expect."

Jenna nodded, a soft smile on her face. "Yeah, it's been around forever. It started as this little hole-in-the-wall joint in the 60s, just serving basic diner food. But over the years, it became a hotspot for actors and musicians who wanted a spot to hang out."

I looked around at the nostalgic décor, the retro booths, and the neon lights. "Makes sense. It feels like a time capsule."

"It really is," Jenna agreed. "They've kept the same décor since day one. I like it because it's not pretentious or flashy—it's just good food, good vibes, and no pressure. Even though some of the biggest names in Hollywood come through here, it still feels like a little secret hideaway."

I scanned the menu again, impressed by the variety. "Okay, I think I'm sold. But the real question is, do I go for pancakes or that burger?"

Jenna smirked, leaning in as if sharing a secret. "Why not both? Pancakes for the soul, burger for the stomach."

I laughed, feeling entirely at ease in the moment. "I think I like the way you think."

Jenna's eyes sparkled. "It's all about balance, Slick. You'll thank me later."

As Jenna continued to enthusiastically point out more items on the menu—everything from her favorite fries with truffle aioli to a buttermilk chicken sandwich that, according to her, "hits different"—I couldn't help but notice how blissfully happy she seemed. It was like watching a kid in a candy store, her eyes wide with excitement, the soft hum of the diner's retro vibe only amplifying the joy radiating from her. Every time she mentioned a dish, it was as if she were sharing a personal victory, proud and delighted just to be here.

I glanced over the menu, nodding along to what Jenna was saying, but my attention drifted. There was something magnetic about seeing her like this; she was so carefree and genuinely excited. I wasn't sure why, but it caught me off guard in the best way. Her enthusiasm felt contagious, making me want to experience this place through her eyes. She wasn't the famous Jenna Ortega here—she was just Jenna, enjoying a quiet night out, sharing one of her favorite spots with someone she trusted.

The buzz of the diner's ambiance faded into the background for a moment. My thoughts swirled as I watched her, caught up in her energy. It was rare to see someone so genuinely excited about the little things, and I found myself smiling, almost lost in the simplicity of the moment. How could someone who lived in the whirlwind of Hollywood seem so grounded, so at peace in a place like this?

Suddenly, I realized I had zoned out. Jenna's voice broke through the fog of my thoughts.

"Y/N? Earth to Y/N?" She was smiling, her head tilted slightly. "What's up? You spaced out for a second there."

I blinked, sitting up straighter, feeling my cheeks flush. "Oh, sorry. I was just… admiring your childlike enthusiasm about this place."

Jenna raised an eyebrow, her smile softening into something more curious. "Really? I thought you were getting bored with my diner ramblings."

I shook my head, feeling a little shy about being so honest. "No, it's not that at all. It's just that you're so excited about being here. It's kind of refreshing to see. You're like a kid in a candy store, Jenna."

She laughed softly, her eyes brightening even more. "I just love sharing things like this. I guess when you're used to so much… I don't know… noise, finding a place like this is grounding. It reminds me of when things were simpler, you know?"

I nodded, feeling the truth in her words. "Yeah, I get that."

Jenna smiled, reaching for her water glass, and I couldn't help but admire how at ease she seemed. "I'm glad you're here, Y/N. I wanted to share this with you."

Her words hit me in a way I hadn't expected. I felt a warmth in my chest, which made me feel like this might not be just a casual dinner with a friend. There was something more to this moment, something more to Jenna's need to share this part of her world with me.

"Me too," I replied quietly, and for a moment, we just smiled at each other across the table.

The waiter arrived to take our orders, and after some back and forth, I settled on Jenna's recommendation: pancakes with that famous maple butter syrup and a side of truffle fries. Jenna ordered her usual, which was the Hollywood Hustler burger with truffle aloi fries.

Once the waiter left, I leaned back in the booth, stealing another glance at her. She seemed so light, so free, sitting here under the soft diner lights, tapping her fingers against the table to the beat of the music playing in the background.

As the night went on, we fell into our usual easy conversation—laughing, teasing, and sharing stories—but it felt slightly different tonight. Maybe it was the nostalgia of the diner, or maybe it was Jenna's openness, but there was something about this place, this moment, that made everything feel… closer.

As Jenna pulled up in front of my apartment, the soft hum of the car's engine slowly faded. I unbuckled my seatbelt, still buzzing from the diner, from Jenna's energy and how effortlessly the night had unraveled into something unexpectedly perfect.

"Thanks again, Jenna, for tonight. It was… it was nice." I turned to her, meaning every word.

Jenna smiled, reaching over to give me a hug. "Of course, Slick. I needed this as much as you did."

I opened the car door, stepping onto the sidewalk, and just as Jenna was about to say something, she froze, her eyes widening.

"Oh. My. God!"

I whipped my head toward the building, alarmed. "What? What's wrong?"

Jenna pointed toward my apartment window with all the enthusiasm of a fan girl. "It's him!"

I followed her gaze, only to see Mr. Noodles perched on the windowsill, his paw pressed against the glass as he meowed. His tiny mouth moved in exaggerated yowls, clearly demanding attention.

"Mr. Noodles?" I raised an eyebrow, unsure whether to laugh or be concerned.

Jenna, however, had no such hesitation. "It's him, Y/N! Oh my god, I'm obsessed." She practically squealed, already making hand gestures, the usual pspsps sound that usually beckoned any cat.

I burst out laughing, my earlier calm completely thrown off. "You're fangirling… over my cat?"

"He's a star!" Jenna exclaimed, leaning across the seat. "Look at him! He's confidently taking center stage." She turned to me with wide, pleading eyes. "Can I meet him? Please?"

I couldn't help but chuckle, shaking my head in disbelief. "Okay, okay, sure. Come on up, but only if you're comfortable. It's just Mr. Noodles, though, not some celebrity cat."

Jenna grinned. "Please, Y/N. I'd love to meet the gentleman who's stolen my heart tonight."

We both laughed as we walked up to my apartment. I opened the door, and Mr. Noodles wasted no time, strutting over like he owned the place, 'which he did in all fairness,' immediately rubbing up against Jenna's legs.

"Oh my god, he's even cuter in person," Jenna cooed, crouching down to pet him. Mr. Noodles practically melted under her touch, sprawled out on the floor, purring like an engine. "You, sir, are a charmer." Jenna cooed.

An hour passed as we sat on the couch. Jenna had settled in, legs folded, Mr. Noodles curled up against her. I launched into a story about one of the celebrity bodyguards who frequented The Daily Grind. This particular bodyguard worked for a famous actor who was a regular at the café, and he was known for being extremely over-the-top when it came to protecting his client.

"So, this guy is like six feet tall, built like a tank," I started, setting the scene. "One day, a group of tourists sat nearby, trying to get pictures of his client. You could tell they were trying to be sneaky but were about as subtle as a neon sign."

Jenna leaned in, already smiling in anticipation. "Oh no, what happened?"

I chuckled. "Well, the bodyguard noticed, of course, and instead of just asking them to stop, he walks over, grabs a tiny spoon from their clients' cappuccinos, and holds it up to his ear like a phone. Then, in the deepest, most serious voice ever, he goes, 'Yeah, hello, police? I have a Code Flash Photo here. Unauthorized photos in progress.'"

Jenna's eyes widened as she burst into laughter, covering her mouth. "No way! Did they stop?"

"Oh, they panicked," I continued, laughing with her. "The tourists practically threw their phones back into their bags and bolted out of the café. Meanwhile, the actor didn't even notice anything was happening."

Jenna shook her head, grinning. "That's too funny!" I need to hire that guy just for the entertainment."

Before we could dive into another story, though, a loud voice interrupted the moment.

"Ken! You won't believe what kind of party we were just at!"

I froze, immediately recognizing the familiar voices of my brothers. Marcus and Caleb ran into the living room, out of breath from running.

"Please tell me it wasn't another one of Marcus's weird gym parties," I muttered.

Caleb, always a bit quieter and the more reserved of the two, smiled sheepishly. "Actually, it wasn't anything wild this time. It was a Sweet 16 party for one of our college buddies' daughters."

Marcus, ever the instigator, grinned and leaned on the doorframe. "Yeah, can you believe that? The guy's a serious family man now, but he was a party legend back in the day."

I raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Wait, so you two went to a Sweet 16? No wild parties this time?"

Caleb shook his head, laughing softly. "Nope, nothing wild. We stuck with our friends from college, and now most of them are family men. We didn't party hard; it was pretty tame. There were a lot of kids, and we mostly hung out by the snacks."

Marcus chimed in with a smirk. "Yup, no wild parties for us anymore. We're practically saints now."

Jenna smiled playfully, glancing between the two of them. "Saints, huh? I'll have to take your word for it… for now."

But before I could steer the conversation away from whatever embarrassing stories my brothers were about to unleash, Marcus clapped his hands together, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Hey, wait a minute! You're the Jenna Ortega! Y/N has been gushing over."

My heart basically dropped and crashed into a million pieces. "Don't you have something better to do!?" I yelled, throwing a pillow in their direction. Caleb chimed, "Y/N, why didn't you tell us we were having guests. We need to introduce ourselves."

I groaned inwardly as Marcus stepped forward, practically bowing as he introduced himself. "Marcus L/N, professional gym rat and Ken's favorite brother."

Caleb followed suit, though his introduction was more reserved. "Caleb, L/N. I'm the Quieter brother."

Jenna smiled warmly at them, but I knew that was just the beginning.

Marcus, never one to miss an opportunity, crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at me. "So, Y/N, did you tell Jenna how prone you are to spilling things on yourself when we were kids?"

Jenna's eyes sparkled as she turned to me, clearly intrigued. "Oh, really?"

"Marcus…" I warned, but it was too late.

"Yup! She'd knock over everything. Once, she spilled an entire Liter of soda all over herself at a family reunion. We thought she would slip and fall, but instead, she just stood there like a drenched statue."

Jenna, laughing so hard she had to hold her sides, added, "Oh, this is perfect. She spilled sugar all over herself when we first met."

Both my brothers stared at me in mock surprise. "Ken! You never told us that part of the story!" Caleb teased.

Mr. Noodles wasn't assisting in comforting me, as he was lapping up all the attention from Jenna away from me. At the same time, I was relentlessly being embarrassed by Marcus and Caleb. 'True to their word, they were gonna embarrass me. I'll have to repay them somehow.'  

It wasn't until 2:40 a.m. that I noticed Jenna yawning, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. She looked at me apologetically. "I'm sorry. I had such a great night, but I think it's time I head home before I fall asleep on your couch."

I nodded, then scolded my brothers with a playful glare.  "Okay, okay, enough roasting me. Leave the girl alone already. She needs to sleep."

Jenna laughed softly and whispered yelled. Don't worry; I'll see you guys again soon. I'm sure there are plenty more embarrassing stories to hear."

My brothers waved her off with mischievous grins as she stood up, stretching. "We'll hold you to that!" I blinked, still processing her words. She's coming back? My mind raced with the idea of a "next time," but before I could dwell on it, Jenna bent down to scratch Mr. Noodles' chin.

"Thanks for letting me spoil you with all my attention tonight, Mr. Noodles," she cooed, her voice soft as she petted him. He responded with a loud purr, rubbing his head against her hand before trotting back toward the living room where my brothers were still lounging.

"Traitor," I muttered under my breath, but I couldn't help but smile.

As Jenna's guards opened the car doors, she turned back to me, a soft smile on her lips. Before leaving, she stepped forward, pulling me into a warm hug. It wasn't just a friendly hug; it lingered, her arms wrapped around me with a closeness that made my heart skip a beat. I hugged her back, trying to keep my cool, but my pulse was racing. 'Damn, my heart. Hopefully, she can't feel it beating out my chest.'

"You know, Y/N, I had a really great time tonight. You're... different. And I mean that in a good way." 

Her words made my heart stutter, and before I could even think of a response, Jenna gave me a lingering glance—one that told me she wasn't just talking about our friendship. It was the kind of look that left you standing frozen, wondering if everything you've been feeling was suddenly becoming real.

"I'll see you soon, Slick," she said softly, her voice carrying a warmth that sent shivers down my spine. She gave me a small, meaningful smile before finally stepping back and climbing into the car.

I stood there, replaying her words and the hug over and over in my mind as the car began to drive off. My thoughts were racing, her look, her tone, and the way she said "different"—it all hit me at once like a wave.

As I watched the car disappear around the corner, I felt like I'd been hit by a truck, my heart pounding against my chest. Tonight was unexpected… The way she spoke, the way she hugged me, and the way she looked at me—it was more than just a fun night out.

Jenna was interested. Really interested.

And as I walked back inside, the realization hit me. This was the start of something more than I ever expected.

[writers-potion]

this is a little hyper specific lmao but i was wondering if you have any advice on writing a pov character being mysterious? tyyy

Writing A Mysterious POV Character

Thanks for the question!

Here are some characteristics that I think makes a POV character "mysterious"

The reader is not meant to understand everything the POV character says, describes or alludes to.

The POV character actively holds off information from the readers either because (1) it's hard for them to talk about it or (2) they don't think it's important, somehow.

They reconstruct the narrative in the way they perceive it, not following the chronological order of events and often providing piecemeal information that only (if ever) comes together at the end.

The POV character simply has a wholly different perspective that a human reader will have difficulties understanding (i.e. story told from an animal or alien's POV)

I think the best way to portray this is to provide examples, which I think qualify as mysterious narrators. Note that not all mysterious narrators are unreliable narrators, although they could be. Here are the selected narrators and a few extracts for illustration purposes, divided by loosely defined subcategories (there can be overlaps!):

Incomprehensive Jargon & Allusions

Given that you can do this without boring or genuinely pissing off the reader, using lots of jargon, making allusions to things your target audience will probably not know to create atmosphere can be effective.

I recommend having a strong thematic core to justify all that jargon and reference, though.

Richard Papen from <The Secret History> by Donna Tartt

The characters talk and make references to Greek/the Classics. Arguably, it is not "incomprehensible", but the entire book is tirelessly full of them and unless you are a scholar in a related field, very unlikely to know all the Greek/ancient works being referenced all the time.

by M.L.Rio

Interesting style where the characters talk and even think in Shakespeare. They literally quote lines from Shakespeare to talk to each other. Not as difficult to follow as <The Secret History>, given that these are q famous plays (Hamlet, Macbeth, etc.) but it certainly adds well to the mystery at the heart of the book's plot.

---

Witholding Information

Have your narrator subtely refer to a large event in their past (a murder, a traumatic memory, etc) but never telling the reader upfront, making them only make implied guesses.

The only reservation I would have for this option is to not annoy the reader by letting them know the narrator has information, but is somehow not telling them. It would help to have a clear reason for them to not talk about it: e.g. they haven't accepted the past themselves, they're too scared to talk about it, etc.

by Eliza Clark

In here, the narrator has killed someone in the past - a fact that only becomes kind of clear at the end. Even then, the murder is never referenced because this narrator has some serious mental issues, but when you look back with this knowledge at the end of the book, her behavior starts making more sense.

---

Reconstructing the Narrative

Don't go in chronological order. Use time skips, or invent a new system for the narrator to arrange their memories and thus, retell the story. This gives the narrator power over the narrative because they've seen the whole thing play out, but the readers are getting bits and pieces, trying to get the puzzle pieces to fall together.

Other options:

POV character has amnesia

POV character has dementia

Using narrative interruptions that are in a completely different style (can work for 3rd person, look at Olivie Blake's work referenced below)

Olivie Black's <Alone With You in the Ether>

Using screenplay-like interruptions to the narrative that limits the reader's access to the characters' minds. Also creates interesting tone.

Kim Youngha's <Diary of the Murderer>

[I don't have pictures for this because I only have the Korean version....but really worth mentioning]

Here, the narrator has dementia and cannot fully remember the murders he has committed in the past. He is also an unreliable narrator who can only remember things in bits and pieces - thus the typical chronological order is interrupted.

---

"Non-Human" Perspectives

Give yourself a narrator that is not human, or is "dehumanized" in some way (lack of emotion, inability to relate to others, etc.) to view the entire world from a perspective not often experienced by the average human.

Death as a narrator from <The Book Thief> by Marcus Zusak.

Zusak inserts these little "pronouncements" or "interruptions" to the narrative and the calm but transcending tone constantly raises questions.

---

Do note that the overall tone of the novel contributes significantly to how the narrator comes across to the readers. Many of the works above also deal with "reality vs. unreality" as a theme, which is augmented by the use of a mysterious narrator that prompts the reader to challenge

Hope this helps, Happy writing :)

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[wisteria-lodge]

Manipulative/Morally Grey Dumbledore? An In-Depth Canon Analysis

So when I look at Harry Potter, my goal is to separate what I think the books are intending to say, from what they actually say, from what the movies say… and what the common fan interpretation is. So today I’m interested in Dumbledore, and specifically in the common headcanon of  Manipulative/Morally Gray Dumbledore. Is that (intentionally or unintentionally) supported by the text?

PART I:  Omniscient Dumbledore

“I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here”

In Book 1, yes Dumbledore honestly does seem to know everything. He 100% arranged for Harry to find the Mirror of Erised, publicly left Hogwarts in order to nudge Quirrell into going after the Stone, and knew what Quirrell was doing the whole time. It is absolutely not a stretch, and kind of heavily implied, that the reason the Stone’s protections feel like a little-end-of-the-year exam designed to put Harry through his paces… is because they are. As the series goes on this interpretation only gets more plausible, when we see the kind of protections people can put up when they don’t want anyone getting through. 

Book 1 Dumbledore knows everything… but what he’s actually going to do about it is anyone’s guess. One of the first things we learn is that some of Dumbledore’s calls can be… questionable. McGonagall questions his choice to leave Harry with the Dursleys, Hermione questions his choice to give Harry the Cloak and let him go after the Stone, Percy and Ron both matter-of-factly call him “mad.” The “nitwit, blubber, oddment, tweak” speech is a joke where Dumbledore says he’s going to say a few words, then literally does say a few (weird) words. I know there are theories that those particular words are supposed to be insulting the four houses, or referencing the Hogwarts house stereotypes, or that they’re some kind of warning. But within the text, this is pure Lewis Carroll British Nonsense Verse stuff (and people came up with answers to the impossible Alice in Wonderland “why is a raven like a writing desk” riddle too.) 

This characterization also explains a lot of Dumbledore’s decisions about how to run a school, locked in during Book 1. Presumably Binns, Peeves, Filch, Snape are all there because Dumbledore finds them funny, atmospheric, and/or character building. He's just kind of a weird guy.  He absolutely knew that Lockhart was a fraud in Book 2 (with that whole “Impaled upon your own sword, Gilderoy?” thing after Lockhart oblivates himself. ) So maybe he is also there to be funny/atmospheric/character building, or to teach Harry a lesson about fame, or because Dumbledore is using the cursed position to bump off people he doesn’t like. Who knows.

(I actually don’t think JKR had locked in “the DADA position is literally cursed by Voldemort” until Book 6. )

Dumbledore absolutely knows that Harry is listening in when Lucius Malfoy comes to take Hagrid to Azkaban, and it’s fun to speculate that maybe he let himself get fired in Book 2 as part of a larger plan to boot Lucius off the Board of Governors. So far, that’s the sort of thing he’d do.  But in Books 3 and 4, we are confronted with a number of important things that Dumbledore just missed. He doesn’t know any of the Marauders were animagi, he doesn’t know what really happened with the Potter’s Secret Keeper, doesn’t know Moody is Crouch, and doesn’t know the Marauders Map even exists. But in Books 5 and 6, his omniscience does seem to come back online. (In a flashback, Voldemort even comments that he is "omniscient as ever” when Dumbledore lists the specific Death Eaters he has in Hogsmeade as backup.) Dumbledore knows exactly what Draco and Voldemort are planning, and his word is taken as objective truth by the entire Order of the Phoenix - who apparently only tolerate Snape because Dumbledore vouches for him:

“Snape,” repeated McGonagall faintly, falling into the chair. “We all wondered . . . but he trusted . . . always . . . Snape . . . I can’t believe it. . . .”  “Snape was a highly accomplished Occlumens,” said Lupin, his voice uncharacteristically harsh. “We always knew that.”  “But Dumbledore swore he was on our side!” whispered Tonks. “I always thought Dumbledore must know something about Snape that we didn’t. . . .”  “He always hinted that he had an ironclad reason for trusting Snape,” muttered Professor McGonagall (...) “Wouldn’t hear a word against him!”

McGonagall questions Dumbledore about the Dursleys, but not about Snape. I see this as part of the larger trend of basically Dumbledore’s deification. In the beginning of the series, he’s treated as a clever, weird dude. By the end, he’s treated like a god. 

PART II: Chessmaster Dumbledore

“I prefer not to keep all my secrets in one basket.”

When Dumbledore solves problems, he likes to go very hands-off. He didn’t directly teach Harry about the Mirror of Erised - he gave him the Cloak, knew he would wander, and moved the Mirror so it would be in his path. He sends Snape to deal with Quirrell and Draco, rather than do it himself. He (or his portrait) tells Snape to confund Mundungus Fletcher and get him to suggest the Seven Potters strategy. He puts Mrs. Figg in place to watch Harry, then ups the protection in Book 5 - all without informing Harry. The situation with Slughorn is kind of a Dumbledore-manipulation master class - even the way he deliberately disappears into the bathroom so Harry will have enough solo time to charm Slughorn. Of course he only wants Slughorn under his roof in the first place to pick his brain about Voldemort… but again, instead of doing that himself, he gets Harry to do it for him. 

Dumbledore has a moment during Harry’s hearing during Book 5 (which he fakes evidence for) where he informs Fudge that Harry is not under the Ministry’s jurisdiction while at Hogwarts. Which has insane implications. It’s never explicitly stated, but as the story goes on, it at least makes sense that Dumbledore is deliberately obscuring how powerful he is, and how much influence he really has, by getting other people to do things for him. But the problem with that is because he is so powerful, it become really easy for a reader to look back after they get more information and say… well if Dumbledore was controlling the situation… why couldn’t he have done XYZ. Here are two easy examples from Harry’s time spent with the Dursleys:

1. Mrs. Figg is watching over Harry from day one, but she can’t tell him she’s a squib and also she has to keep him miserable on purpose:

“Dumbledore’s orders. I was to keep an eye on you but not say anything, you were too young. I’m sorry I gave you such a miserable time, but the Dursleys would never have let you come if they’d thought you enjoyed it. It wasn’t easy, you know…”

It’s pretty intense to think of Dumbledore saying “oh yes, invite this little child over and keep him unhappy on purpose.” But okay. It’s important to keep Harry ignorant of the magical world and vice versa. fine. But once he goes to Hogwarts… that doesn’t apply anymore?  I’m sure when Harry thinks he’s going to be imprisoned permanently in his bedroom during Book 2, it would’ve been comforting to know that Dumbledore was sending around someone to check on him. And when he literally runs away from home in Book 3… having the address of a trusted adult that he could easily get to would have been great for everybody. 

2. When Vernon is about to actually kick Harry out during Book 5, Dumbledore sends a howler which intimidates Petunia into insisting that Harry has to stay. Vernon folds and does exactly what she says. If Dumbledore could intimidate Petunia into doing this, then why couldn’t he intimidate her into, say - giving Harry the second bedroom instead of a cupboard. Or fixing Harry’s glasses. In Book 1, the Dursleys don’t bother Harry during the entire month of August because Hagrid gives Dudley a pig’s tail. In the summer between third and fourth year, the Dursleys back off because Harry is in correspondence with Sirius (a person they fear.) But the Dursleys are afraid of all wizards. Like at this point it doesn’t seem that hard to intimidate them into acting decently to Harry. 

PART III: Dumbledore and the Dursleys 

“Not a pampered little prince”

JKR wanted two contradictory things. She wanted Dumbledore to be a fundamentally good guy: a wise, if eccentric mentor figure. But she also wanted Harry to have a comedically horrible childhood being locked in a cupboard, denied food, given broken glasses and ill fitting/embarrassing clothes, and generally made into a little Cinderella. Then, it’s a bigger contrast when he goes to Hogwarts and expulsion can be used as an easy threat. (Although the only person we ever see expelled is Hagrid, and that was for murder.)

So, there are a couple of tricks she uses to make it okay that Dumbledore left Harry at the Dursleys.’ The first is that once Harry leaves…  nothing that happens there is given emotional weight. When he’s in the Wizarding World, he barely talks about Dursleys, barely thinks about them. They almost never come up in the narration (unless Harry’s worried about being expelled, or they’re sending him comedically awful presents.) They are completely cut from the last three Harry Potter movies, and you do not notice. 

The second trick… is that Dumbledore himself clearly doesn’t think that the Dursleys are that bad. During the King’s Cross vision-quest, he describes 11-year-old Harry as “alive and healthy (...) as normal a boy as I could have hoped under the circumstances. Thus far, my plan was working well.”  

Now, this could have been really interesting. Like in a psychological way, I get it. Dumbledore had a rocky home life. Dad in prison, mom spending all her time taking care of his volatile and dangerous sister. Aberforth seems to have reacted to the situation by running completely wild, it’s implied that he never even had formal schooling… and Albus doubled down on being the Golden Child, making the family look good from the outside, and finding every means possible to escape. I would have believed it if Molly or Kingsley had a beat of being horrified by the way the Dursleys are treating Harry… but Dumbledore treats it as like, whatever. Business as usual. 

But that isn’t the framing that the books use. Dumbledore is correct that the Dursleys aren’t that bad, and I think it’s because JKR fundamentally does not take the Dursleys seriously as threats. I also think she has a fairly deeply held belief that suffering creates goodness, so possibly Harry suffering at the hands of the Dursleys… was necessary? To make him good? Dumbledore himself has an arc of ‘long period of suffering = increased goodness.’ So does Severus Snape, Dudley‘s experience with the Dementor kickstarts his character growth, etc. It’s a trope she likes.

It’s only in The Cursed Child that the Dursleys are given any kind of weight when it comes to Harry’s psyche. This is one of the things that makes me say Jack Thorne wrote that play, because it’s just not consistent with how JKR likes to write the Dursleys. It’s consistent with the way fanfiction likes to write the Dursleys. And look, The Cursed Child is fascinatingly bad, I have so many problems with it, but it does seem to be doing like … a dark reinterpretation of Harry Potter? And it’s interested in saying something about cycles of abuse. I can absolutely see how the way the play handles things is flattering to JKR. It retroactively frames the Dursleys’ abuse in a more negative way, and maybe that’s something she wanted after criticism that the Harry Potter books treat physical abuse kind of lightly. (i.e.  Harry at the hands of the Dursleys, and house-elves at the hands of everybody. Even Molly Weasley “wallops” Fred with a broomstick.) 

PART IV: Dumbledore and Harry

“The whole Potter–Dumbledore relationship. It’s been called unhealthy, even sinister”

So whenever Harry feels betrayed by Dumbledore in the books - and he absolutely does, it’s some of JKR’s best writing  - it’s not because he left him with the Dursleys. It’s because Dumbledore kept secrets from him, or lied to him, or didn’t confide in him on a personal level. 

“Look what he asked from me, Hermione! Risk your life, Harry! And again! And again! And don’t expect me to explain everything, just trust me blindly, trust that I know what I’m doing, trust me even though I don’t trust you! Never the whole truth! Never!” (...) I don’t know who he loved, Hermione, but it was never me. This isn’t love, the mess he’s left me in. He shared a damn sight more of what he was really thinking with Gellert Grindelwald than he ever shared with me.”

Eventually though, Harry falls in line with the rest of the Order, and treats Dumbledore as an all-knowing God. And this decision comes so close to being critiqued…  but the series never quite commits. Rufus Scrimgeour comments that, “Well, it is clear to me that [Dumbledore] has done a very good job on you” - implying that Harry is a product of a deliberate manipulation,  and that the way Harry feels about Dumbledore is a direct result of how he's been controlling the situation (and Harry.)  But Harry responds to “[You are] Dumbledore’s man through and through, aren’t you, Potter?” with “Yeah. I am. Glad we cleared that up,” and it’s treated as a badass, mic drop line. 

Ron goes on to say that Harry maybe shouldn’t be trusting Dumbledore and maybe his plan isn’t that great… but then he abandons his friends, regrets what he did, and is only able to come back because Dumbledore knew he would react this way? So that whole thing only makes Dumbledore seem more powerful? Aberforth  tells Harry (correctly) that Dumbledore is expecting too much of him and he’s not interested in making sure that he survives:

“How can you be sure, Potter, that my brother wasn’t more interested in the greater good than in you? How can you be sure you aren’t dispensable (...) Why didn’t he say… ‘Take care of yourself, here’s how to survive’? (...) You’re seventeen, boy!”

But, Aberforth is treated as this Hamish Abernathy type who has given up, and needs Harry to ignite his spark again. There’s a pretty dark line in the script of Deathly Hallows Part 2:

Which at least shows this was a possible  interpretation the creative team had in their heads… but then of course it isn’t actually in the movie. 

So in the end, insane trust in Dumbledore is only ever treated as proper and good. Then in Cursed Child they start using “Dumbledore” as an oath instead of “Merlin” and it’s weird and I don’t like it.

PART V: Dumbledore and his Strays

“I have known, for some time now, that you are the better man.”

So Dumbledore has this weird relationship pattern. He has a handful of people he pulled out of the fire at some point and (as a result) these people are insanely loyal to him.  They do his dirty work, and he completely controls them. This is an interesting pattern, because I think it helps explain why so many fans read Dumbledore’s relationship with Snape (and with Harry) as sinister. 

Let’s start with the first of Dumbledore’s “strays.” Dumbledore saves Hagrid's livelihood and probably life after he is accused of opening the Chamber of Secrets - and then he uses Hagrid to disappear Harry after the Potters' death, gets him to transport the Philosopher’s Stone, and he’s the one who he trusts to be Harry’s first point of contact with the Wizarding World.  Also, Hagrid's situation doesn’t change? Even after he is cleared of opening the Chamber of Secrets, he keeps using that pink flowered umbrella with his broken wand inside, a secret that he and Dumbledore seem to share. He could get a legal wand, he could continue his education. But he doesn’t seem to, and I don’t know why. 

So, Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality is a well known fix-it fic that basically asks “What if Harry Potter was a machiavellian little super genius who solves the plot in a year?” I enjoyed it when it was coming out, but the only thing I would call a cheat is the way McGonagall brings Harry to Diagon Alley instead of Hagrid. Because a Harry Potter who has spent a couple of days with McGonagall is going to be much better informed, better equipped and therefore more powerful than a Harry spending the same amount of time with Hagrid. McGonagall is both a lot more knowledgeable and a lot less loyal to Dumbledore. She is loyal, obviously, but she also questions his choices in a way that Hagrid never does. And as a result, Dumbledore does not trust her with the same kind of delicate jobs he trusts to Hagrid.

Mrs. Figg is another one of Dumbledore’s strays. She’s a squib, so we can imagine that she doesn’t really have a lot of other options, and he sets her up to keep tabs on (and be unpleasant to) little Harry. He also has her lie to the entire Wizangamot, which has got to present some risk. Within this framework, Snape is another very clear stray. Dumbledore kept him out of Azkaban, and is the only reason that the Order trusts him. He gets sent on on dangerous double-agent missions… but before that he’s sort of kept on hand, even though he’s clearly miserable at Hogwarts. Firenze is definitely a stray - he can't go back to the centaurs, and who other than Dumbledore is going to hire him? And I do wonder about Trelawney. We don’t know much about her relationship with Dumbledore, but I wouldn’t be at all surprised if she was a stray as well.

I think there was an attempt to turn Lupin into a stray that didn’t… quite work. He is clearly grateful to Dumbledore for letting him attend Hogwarts and then for hiring him, but Lupin doesn’t really hit that necessary level of trustworthy that the others do. Most of what Dumbledore doesn’t know in Book 3 are things that Lupin could have told him, and didn’t. If had to think of a Watsonsian reason why Remus is given all these solo missions away from the other Order members (that never end up mattering…) it’s because I don’t think Dumbledore trusts him that much. Lupin doubts him too much. 

“Dumbledore believed that?” said Lupin incredulously. “Dumbledore believed Snape was sorry James was dead? Snape hated James. . . .”

 We also see Dumbledore start the process of making Draco into a stray by promising to protect him and his parents. And with all of that… it’s kind of easy to see how Harry fits the profile. He has a very bleak existence (which Dumbledore knows about.) He is pulled out of it by Dumbledore’s proxies. It’s not surprising that Harry develops a Hagrid-level loyalty, especially after Dumbledore saves him from Barty, from his Ministry hearing, and then from Voldemort. Harry walks to his death because Dumbledore told him too. 

Just to be clear, I don’t think this pattern is deliberate. I think this is a side effect of JKR wanting to write Dumbledore as a nice guy, and specifically as a protector of the little guy. But Dumbledore doing that while also being so powerful creates a weird power dynamic, gives him a weird edit. It’s part of the reason people are happy to go one step farther and say that the Dursleys were mean to Harry… because Dumbledore actively wanted it that way.  I don’t think that’s true. I think Dumbledore loves his strays and if anything, the text supports the idea that he is collecting good people, because protecting them and observing them serves some psychological function for him. Dumbledore does not believe himself to be an intrinsically good person, or trustworthy when it comes to power. So, of course someone like that would be fascinated by how powerless people operate in the world, and by people like Hagrid and Lupin and Harry, who seems so intrinsically good. 

PART VI - Dumbledore and Grindelwald

“I was in love with you.” 

I honestly see “17-year-old Dumbledore was enamored with Grindelwald” as a smokescreen distracting from the actual moral grayness of the guy. He wrote some edgy letters when he was a teenager, at least partly because he thought his neighbor was hot. He thought he could move Ariana, but couldn’t - which led to the chaotic three-way duel that killed her. 

One thing I think J. K. Rowling does understand pretty well, and introduces into her books on purpose, is the concept of re-traumatization. Sirius in Book 5 is very obviously being re-traumatized by being in his childhood home and hearing the portrait of his mother screaming. It’s why he acts out, regresses, and does a number of unadvisable things. I think it’s also deliberate that Petunia’s unpleasant childhood is basically being re-created: her normal son next to her sister’s magical son. It's making her worse, or at the very least preventing her from getting better. We learn that Petunia has this sublimated interest in the magical world, and can even pull out vocab like “Azkaban” and “Dementor” when she needs to.   She wrote Dumbledore asking to go to Hogwarts, and I could see that in a universe where Petunia didn’t have to literally raise Harry, she wouldn’t be as psychotically into normalness, cleanliness, and order as she is when we meet her in the books. After all, JKR doesn’t like to write evil mothers. She will be bend over backwards so her mothers are never really framed as bad.

And I honestly think it’s possible that J. K. Rowling was playing with the concept of re-traumatiziation when she was fleshing out Dumbledore in Book 7. We learn all this backstory, that… honestly isn’t super necessary? All I’m saying is that the three-way duel at the top of the Astronomy Tower lines up really well with the three-way duel that killed Ariana. Harry is Ariana, helpless in the middle. Draco is Aberforth, well intentioned and protective of his family - but kind of useless, and kind of a liability. Severus is Grindelwald, dark and brilliant, and one of the closest relationships Dumbledore has. If this was intentional, it was probably only for reasons of narrative symmetry… but I think it's cool in a Gus Fring of Breaking Bad sort of way, that Dumbledore (either consciously or unconsciously) has been trying to re-create this one horrible moment in his life where he felt entirely out of control. But the second time it plays out… he can give it what he sees as the correct outcome. Grindelwald kills him and everyone else lives. That is how you solve the puzzle.

If you read between the lines, Dumbledore/Grindelwald is a fascinating love story. I like the detail that after Ariana’s death, Dumbledore returns to Hogwarts because it’s a place to hide and because he doesn’t feel like he can be trusted with power. I like that he sits there, refusing promotions, refusing requests to be the new Minister of Magic, refusing to go deal with the growing Grindelwald threat until he absolutely can’t hide anymore, at which point he defeats him (somehow.) I like reading his elaborate plan to break Elder Wand’s power as both a screw-you Grindelwald, the wand’s previous master, but also as a weirdly romantic gesture. In Albus Dumbledore’s mind, there is only Grindelwald. Voldemort can’t even begin to compare. I like the detail that Grindelwald won’t give up Dumbledore, even under torture. And, Dumbledore doesn’t put him in Azkaban. He put him in this other separate prison, which always makes it seem like he’s there under Dumbledore authority specifically.  Maybe Dumbledore thinks that if he had died that day instead of Ariana…he wouldn’t have had to spend the rest of his life fighting and imprisoning the man he loves.

And then of course, Crimes of Grindelwald decided to take away Dumbledore's greatest weakness and say that no, actually he was a really good guy who never did anything wrong ever.  He went all that time without fighting Grindelwald because they made a magical friendship no-fight bracelet. Dumbledore is randomly grabbing Lupin’s iconography (his fashion sense, his lesson plans, his job) in order to feel more soft and gentle than the person the books have created. Now Dumbledore knows about the Room Requirement, even though in the books it’s a plot point that he's too much of a goody-two-shoes to have ever found it himself. He loved Grindelwald (past tense.) And Secrets of Dumbledore is mostly about him being an omniscient mastermind so that a magical deer can tell him that he was a super good and worthy guy, and any doubt that he’s ever felt about himself is just objectively wrong and incorrect. Also now Aberforth has a neglected son, so he’s reframed as a bit of a hypocrite for getting on his brother’s case for not protecting Harry. 

So to summarize, I think Dumbledore began the series as this very eccentric, unpredictable mentor, whose abilities took a hit in Books 3 and 4 in order to make the plot happen. He teetered on the edge of a ‘dark’ framing for like a second… but at the the end of the series he's written as basically infallible and godlike. I’ve heard people say that JKR’s  increased fame was the reason she added the Rita Skeeter plot line, and I don’t think that’s true. But I do think her fame may have affected the way she wrote Dumbledore. Because Dumbledore is JKR’s comment on power, and by Book 5 she had so much power. In her head, I don’t think that Dumbledore is handing off jobs in a manipulative way. She sees him as empowering other less powerful people. That is his job as someone in power (because remember - people who desire power shouldn't wield it.)

Dumbledore’s power makes him emotionally disconnected from the people in his life, it makes him disliked and distrusted by the Ministry, but it doesn’t make him wrong. That’s important. Dumbledore is never wrong. Dumbledore is always good. That’s why we get the Blood Pact that means he was never weak or procrastinating. That’s why we get the qilin saying he was a good person. It’s why we get the tragic backstory (because giving Snape a tragic backstory worked wonders when it came to rehabilitating him.) And that is why Harry names his son Albus Severus in the epilogue, to make us readers absolutely crystal clear that these two are good men. 

[loganwritesprobably]

Drowning

Tags/Warnings: Ace/GN!Reader, modern AU, surfing instructor Ace, civilian!Reader, Ace saves a kid from drowning

It had taken a lot to get all your friends together, days off and holiday days taken to align your schedules, but it was all worth it to be able to sit together on the beach in the hot sun. The beach was littered with families and groups of young people enjoying the weather and playing games. It was a nice, summery atmosphere.

People watching was a hobby you enjoyed, making guesses about the people around you that you'd never have proven true or false. Your book sat beside you, bookmarked with a seashell since you'd managed to forget your usual bookmark, and a drink in your hand. You sipped slowly as you just watched the horizon, seeing the children and adults alike playing in the waves.

You'd noticed a short while ago that there was a surfer on the beach, a relatively young man - you'd assume close to yourself in age - and he was quite handsome. Your friends had noticed you looking and made a few light hearted jokes, but all had moved on now. Or you'd thought. "Still looking?" One of them joked, gently elbowing you as they shuffled closer, tugging their towel closer to yours to sit in more comfort. "Can you blame me? Running around looking like that." You replied with a laugh, though you looked away having been caught. If something was going to happen then it would.

After spending a few hours just relaxing, a few of your friends convinced you to come take a dip in the water with them, and you quickly found yourself just floating along the water's surface while your friends play wrestled, though some had already retreated back to the safety of your towels under the umbrella.

The peace was disturbed as a woman shrieked from the beach. You looked up, startled by the sound, and spotted a young boy thrashing and struggling a ways away from you. Most people stood watching, stunned into stillness rather than rushing to his aid. Except one man. The surfer you'd been observing earlier dove from his board without hesitation, disappearing under the surface of the water with no sign for a long moment. Then, both he and the boy were gasping for air, surfacing properly, the boy on the surfer's shoulders.

Your friend appeared beside you and nudged you again, while another closed your open jaw with two fingers on your chin.

The surfer carried the boy back to the shore where his mother stood, and you watched as she profusely thanked the man. You looked around and noticed his board still drifting, so ignoring the laughter and taunts of your friends, you swam for it.

You dragged his board to the beach, waiting for the woman to disappear with her son, and pulled it to him. "Pretty heroic thing you did there." You said, smiling at him as he startled, then turned toward you. "Oh, anyone would've." He replied with a shrug, taking his board from you with ease. "I mean, you were the only one that even moved. It was pretty awesome." You were a little awkward, but you were trying and surely that was what mattered. "I guess it was." He replied with a laugh and a small smirk that made you want to kiss him. What a hell of an impulsive thought. "You surf?" You asked, gesturing to the board. Alone it was kind of a stupid question, but you were hoping he'd use it as a chance to talk about it more extensively. "Sure do, I'm an instructor too. The kid is one I've worked with before. He just got caught in some seaweed, he's usually a pretty strong swimmer. Guess that's why I acted so fast." He explained, and you nodded along. "So you're a surfer, a hero, and good with kids? Hot." It didn't hurt to be a little bold, right? "Yeah?" He asked, a cheeky smile taking over his face. You struggled not to fold at the sight of it, instead forcing yourself to stay strong. "Yeah. Could I interest you in sharing a cold drink, and maybe an ice cream at that café on the boardwalk?" "I think you could."

[sammysmaddy]

Normal (Winchesters x Reader) - Part Four

Summary: Growing up as the baby of the Winchester family led you to be constantly guarded. Soon enough, you start to learn what's normal between families and what's not.

Characters: John x Daughter!Reader, Dean x Sister!Reader, OFC!Shauna x Dean, OFC!Sophia x Reader

Warnings: incest, sistercest, daughtercest, girls kissing girls, angry!/drunk!john, needy!Dean, drugs, alcohol, angst, hair pulling (more like physical abuse), Daddy kink I guess, a bit of degradation, manipulation, crying, praise kink, oral

W/C: 5.9k+

A/N: Merry Christmas to my followers who celebrate! Happy Holidays to everyone and I hope to be posting more!

Normal Masterlist

Masterlist

With John recently deciding that Sam was old enough to go on larger hunts with him, that meant much more time with Dean. They were off again after John came home after a few hours because he had decided that he needed to make things right with Sam. 

John had finally realized that it wasn't his or Sam's fault that Sam got hurt, but John just reacted that way because he didn't like to see any of his children busted up. 

You, being stuck at home with Dean, had been eating a lot of pizza, drinking a lot of beer, and waking up in his arms every morning. Things seemed normal again, Dean acted like he hadn't done anything, and you spent many hours out of the day thinking about how to bring it up with him. 

What if he didn't bring it up because it was a one-time thing and he was drunk? What if he didn't have those kinds of feelings for you?  It hurt for you to think that way, but you needed to be prepared in case he didn't see you the same way that you saw him. 

Plus, maybe he didn't even know what you were capable of. Maybe he didn't know that you had done sexual things before and that you weren't innocent. 

It was a Friday night in a random city in Wisconsin, your family seemed to go there a lot for hunts, and it was disgustingly cold outside. Still, it was your idea when you said you wanted to go to a party. 

You weren't exactly a people person and Dean was the only one who would entertain the idea of going out and being social, so you knew when John and Sam left earlier this week that this would be your opportunity. 

This time though, you came prepared. You planned on making your own drinks, staying away from trouble, and focusing on having a good time. 

Though the last party was fun because you talked about random books and old movies that would bore any regular human, things went downhill before you even knew it. This time, you were determined to do it right.

Things were already turning out much better, with no Jordan's anywhere to be seen. The party was much less dark and colorful than the last because people seemed to be more focused on being able to talk rather than dance. This party setting made you feel much more comfortable. 

Maybe it had to do with the fact that there were more clouds of marijuana than red solo cups filled with vodka, but it didn't matter- you were happy. The only bad thing about the atmosphere was the smell itself, John nor your brothers had ever shown an interest in it so it was a little bit offensive to your palette. 

It was good to get a change of pace. The music wasn't playing so loud that you had to yell in order to have a conversation, you didn't get weird looks every time you brushed past someone, and above all, everyone seemed to be happy. Except Dean. 

Dean hardly left your side, still causally flirting with any woman in close proximity, but he wouldn't leave you alone for more than two minutes at a time. 

The women were different here, more sophisticated and graceful, and while Dean tried his best, he just couldn't connect with them like usual. You wondered if Dean was scared that he was losing his spark, the idea delightfully playing around in your mind, but Dean kept trying- one girl after another after another. 

It was a delicacy to watch, having to see Dean try so hard when really people here only seemed to be attracted by intelligence. He had never had to try hard at anything in his life, school- he didn't care about, hunting- naturally talented, girls- easy, it was strangely satisfying. 

For someone with such a strong God complex, Dean should be having dazed girls lined down the hall just to hear him talk about himself. You almost felt guilty watching Dean struggle so hard. Half of the time he couldn't keep up with the random philosophical conversations anyway, but it was fun watching him bullshit his way through before ultimately becoming disinterested. 

That's why when Shauna, a beautiful curly-haired brunette, came around and offered Dean some attention, you finally felt him peel away from your side. You saw the light in his eyes that had been dimming throughout the night brighten, and you slowly faded into the background as he worked his magic. 

Now, it was time to focus on yourself. You smiled at people who smiled at you as you made your way to the kitchen, making yourself a drink to keep the happy buzz coursing through your veins. 

The red solo cup in your hand felt whole again, filled to the brim with very diluted alcohol so that you could keep your cool, and things seemed to be turning out great for both you and Dean. 

Although you still had to go out and talk to people- something you're not extremely experienced with, you were excited to. 

You had met a handful of people in your life, most, if not all, were disposable and never seen again, but you never really had any true friends. Sam was your best friend, of course, but you knew it wasn't really the same. 

You didn't even really know where to begin. Some people seemed too entranced by their partners, some smiled down at their phones, and some just had resting bitch face on full display. 

It began to feel a little lonely, your eyes occasionally glancing at Dean across the room, but you tried your best just to enjoy the time out of the motel. And even though you were alone in your head, you were most certainly not truly alone. 

You were content, happy to see other people being happy regardless of whether or not it was with you. This was what life was like without constant intrusion from your family and it granted you a sort of freedom, a freedom you hadn't realized you craved until tonight. 

When you and Sam were young, you would often dream of a life out of a motel. With Mary dying on your six-month birthday and John going insane trying to avenge her death, the only thing you and Sam had, apart from Dean, was imagination. 

You used to dream of one day growing old and staying best friends with Sam until you died, moving to Hawaii or back 'home' to Kansas, or maybe even getting a real job someday. 

The both of you understood that it didn't exactly sound glamorous, like becoming famous or having tons of money, but anything beat the Hunter's life. It was a dead-end road, full of misery and hatred for every living thing on Earth, and a part of you thanked John for keeping you away from it as much as possible.

But you couldn't help but feel stuck. What else to life was there other than living in motels and killing bad guys? You wouldn't know, much less ever get the chance to figure it out. 

But, you were far from unhappy. You were surrounded by people you loved and while times would get rough, John would get drunk, the credit cards would fail at the restaurants, or one of the boys would come home wounded, you all made it work. 

You had an unbreakable bond with Sam, a wild side that Dean helped to bring out, and an undying loyalty for family because of John. Things could always be much worse than they are. 

"You know, for someone watching your boyfriend with another girl, you don't seem to be too upset," A random voice snapped you out of your thoughts. Your head turned to look at the girl standing next to you, she reached out her hand to greet you, "Sophia."

"Y/N," You greeted back, shaking her soft but firm hand. 

It took you a little longer to respond, she had beautiful feminine features but she was assertive and reminded you of John. You almost felt bad for trying to read her like a book, there was such a strange energy that surrounded her. 

"A fan of voyeurism, are we?" Sophia chuckled, giving you a small smirk, and your eyebrows raised.

"Of what?" You asked and she laughed a little louder. "I'm sorry, I don't know what that is." You laughed lightly, trying to understand the strange word, and she gave you a teeth-filled smile.

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart. That is your boyfriend, right?" She asked with her eyebrow raised, a concerned, but cocky, look on her face.

"No, he's not my boyfriend," You blushed at the question and she gave you a small smile.

"Well, you seem to like him a lot. Maybe you should just ask him out sometime." She encouraged, nudging you with her elbow lightly. 

"It's really not like that," You laughed awkwardly and she raised her eyebrows up and down to say that she wasn't a firm believer in your statement. 

"Right, it's not like you're practically eye-fucking him while he talks to my girlfriend Shauna." She scoffed and you tilted your head. 

You were just happy that Dean was happy, no eye-fucking involved. 

"She's your friend? She's really pretty," You told her and she shook her head.

"Girlfriend. Open relationship, I kind of figured that's how you guys were too. I mean, he's barely left your side the entire night." She corrected, pointing out why she had her assumptions. 

You frowned, are you supposed to be upset that Dean's with another girl? Are you supposed to be feeling jealous that it's not you? 

"Are you ever jealous?" You asked out of curiosity, the idea of an 'open relationship' new to your mind. 

It was strange at first glance, but the more thought that was put in, the more it was intriguing. Not that you had an official partner in the first place. 

"Not really. She picks out the scumbags, no offense, fucks them, and then comes home to tell me all about it," She tells you honestly, a smile plastered on her face. 

She reminds you of Sam, he always loved hearing about the aftermath of your night out with John. 

"Plus, she's usually unsatisfied and girls do it much better." She added in a whisper, a smooth wink following behind. 

"I'm sure they do," You replied, fighting back a blush that you quickly deduced and blamed on alcohol. 

"You ever been with a girl, Y/N?" Sophia asked, licking her lips as the question concluded and you found yourself staring. 

"No, um, I've never really thought about it," You said, almost stuttering your way through. 

Surely the alcohol had to do with the way you were feeling, but all-in-all, she was attractive and there was no denying it. You'd seen girl-on-girl porn, almost a preferable choice because they always seemed to enjoy themselves a little bit more, but it wasn't ever something that crossed your mind. 

Now, there was an undeniably hot girl in front of you talking about sexuality, it was all a little confusing. 

"I'm not a psychic, but something tells me you're curious," She smirked, and your mouth opened to reply but nothing came out. 

Sophia's hands landed on the collar of your jacket, straightening it, which made your breath hitch in the back of your throat. 

"Relax, I'm not gonna bite unless you want me to," She chuckled and you began to realize that your knuckles were turning white from holding your hands together so tightly.

You didn't know whether you wanted Dean to look over at you when she planted her mouth on yours or not. Her lips were much softer and fuller than either John's or Sam's and she tasted much sweeter too, it was a nice change of pace. 

She was much more pushy than what you were used to, guiding the pace and expecting you to match, and it wasn't long until the thoughts started to flood your mind. 

Would Dean look over and notice? Would he be upset? Would he be excited? Would he even care? You wanted him to. 

If you were supposed to be jealous that he was with another girl, you wanted him to be jealous that you were too. 

Sophia's chin was smooth with no traces of stubble like you normally felt. Her hands were soft as they cupped your cheek, her teeth nibbled at your bottom lip in the softest way possible, and her smell- God, she smelt so good. 

It was much different than the 3-in-1 body wash that the boys used because she smelt like she actually took care of herself. She smelled of flowers, but not like the old-lady type of perfume, she smelled soft and delicate and that was the only thing you could think of. 

Sophia's fingernails lightly scraped against your cheeks when they made their way into your hair, and when you gasped she smiled into your mouth. It was evident that she knew what she was doing and you didn't think twice about letting her... whatever it led up to. 

Maybe it was the thrill of being seen by Dean or the fact that it was new and exciting. Feeling soft and delicate fingers roaming through your hair was something you could get used to. Or maybe it was the alcohol, you weren't exactly sober- but you were still in the right mind to make good decisions, even if you were more inclined to try new things. 

You had never been with a girl, you had never even really had friends that were girls. You weren't sure if you wanted to be her, envied that she had such confidence and charisma, or if you were actually attracted to her. She was beautiful and if you really took the time to think about it- the wetness growing in between your legs answered your question. 

It wasn't long before you got lost in her trance, the quiet music almost seemed silent as you could only hear her lips moving with yours. The lights seemed to dim as your eyes stayed closed because all you did was focus on her. 

Then, everything was moving so fast, one second you were in the middle of someone's living room and then you were pressed against the wall in the hallway. Your head was spinning and your neck craned upwards to kiss the lips attacking yours and when you heard him growl into your mouth, that's when you knew he had been watching for quite some time.

Dean had his hands lightly wrapped around the sides of your neck, pulling you closer to him but still pinning you against the wall with his body. Your hands gripped onto his waist, pulling him as close to you as possible, and the thoughts of Sophia quickly faded into nothing. 

Dean was hungry for you, moving his lips as if he were attempting to tear them off, kissing all over your neck and not caring about whether he left marks, pushing into your body so hard that you could barely breathe.

His tongue was all over the place, your cheeks, your lips, your neck, your collarbone, your chest, and you wanted to feel it everywhere. His teeth nipped anywhere his lips went, leaving you a whimpering mess as you let him do whatever he pleased.

When Dean's lips reconnected with yours, you could taste the whiskey in his breath and smell the cologne he had doused himself in before you left the motel. Kissing him made you feel even more tipsy than before. He was more needy than Sam ever was, more attentive than John, and he seemed to be a perfect combination of all of their best qualities. 

"This is wrong," Dean whispered into your mouth, but before you could question why he was all over you again. 

Dean's hands trailed down your body as yours found their place in his hair, gripping lightly and pulling him in closer as he moaned into your mouth. There were practically no breaks in between each kiss, leaving the both of you panting, but neither of you seemed to care. 

Dean took a step back, gripping tightly onto your waist as he pulled you closer to him and you could no longer feel the warm wall against your back. 

He hadn't said any other words to you, but his actions were more than enough to tell you what he really wanted. You knew that Dean was bold, but you figured that there would be some sort of build-up for the two of you. Maybe some innocent flirting that would progress into sexual innuendos directed at one another, maybe some touching brushed off as accidental, that's what he always did with his hook-ups. 

With you it was different, he skipped all of the formalities and went straight into the good part, and you didn't mind whatsoever.

But, as the touching progressed into squeezing and digging his fingers into your skin, your mind wandered to other places. Why did he say it was wrong? Were you not good enough for him? He was all over you, that couldn't be true. Was he drunk? Was that the reason that kissing you was wrong? 

Maybe he meant that you were wrong for each other, John always said that this stuff shouldn't happen with anyone else. He always said that nobody could ever love you enough to touch you the way that he did. But you loved Dean and you knew that he loved you, why was he not good enough? Why was it wrong?

You hadn't even noticed someone was talking to the both of you until he pulled his lips back to mutter an answer, "I'm busy, man. Get out of here." Dean said aloud and before you had the chance to look over, his lips were on yours again and his body was pressed against you. 

"Dean, what the hell are you doing? Are you even listening?" That you heard. 

This time, the voice was easily recognizable, it was Sammy. Your cheeks flushed red when Dean pulled back, his eyes were wide and filled with dread to which you furrowed your eyebrows and tilted your head, asking yourself why. 

"Sam, look, I- It's not what it looks like," Dean struggled to get out, letting his hands loosen around your waist and raise in the air in defense. 

It was easy to tell that Dean had no idea that Sam wouldn't mind and that he was most likely trying to come up with a viable explanation for kissing you. You backed up a little, giving Sam a small smile when he looked at you, indicating that you were right about Dean.

"Dude, I'm not- um, it's just that Dad's outside and he's threatening to call the cops and we got to go," Sam replied hastily.

You smiled to yourself, knowing that Sam was most likely fighting his own arousal, but then you frowned at the thought of John. Outside. Waiting. Knowing that you were here. A party. With drugs and alcohol. 

John was not going to be very happy with you and you felt your face growing pale with anxiety. 

"Let's go, Y/N," Dean said gruffly, grabbing your arm tightly and dragging you through the small crowd. 

You fought Dean's grip a little, dreading the thought of John being upset with you, but you let him lead you toward the front. Your head was still spinning, trying to understand how you were watching Dean with Shauna, having a conversation with Sophia, which led up to making out with her. Then you were pressed against the wall by your big brother, and now your twin was leading you outside to see your, most likely, very angry father. 

When the cold, crisp air nearly froze your lungs as you stepped outside, you saw John waiting for the three of you. John was pissed, he was clenching his fists as he advanced towards all of you. 

You expected him to grab you by the hair, drag you to the car, and not even let you explain yourself, but he went straight for Dean. 

"What the hell were you thinking, son?!" John practically screamed, grabbing fistfuls of Dean's leather jacket. 

"Dad, I-I go to parties all of the time, I don't understand," Dean gulped so hard that you could see his Adam's apple gliding up and down his throat. He was nervous, stuttering, and grabbing onto John's wrists to stop him from doing anything more than grabbing his jacket. 

"Not with Y/N. Do you understand me?" John growled, letting go of the jacket and roughly pushing Dean back. 

Dean stumbled, barely keeping himself standing, and you could see Dean's eyes that were filled with fear. The same expression appeared on your face when John turned his body in your direction. 

"Get in the truck, I need to talk to you," John demanded, pointing his shaking finger toward you. 

You gulped, much like Dean, and nodded your head, deciding that there was no point in protesting. 

"Sammy, drive Dean home. No but's, Dean. Obviously, you aren't capable of good decisions, why should I let you drive my car?" John said and you turned around so quickly that you didn't have time to wait around to watch Dean's reaction.

Your feet scrambled towards the truck. When you began to climb in, you turned to close the door but John slammed it behind you, making you jump in your seat. Your eyes found the phone that was lit up on the middle seat, showing your exact location and you knew that was definitely how he found you. 

Then you saw the empty bottle of whiskey and you knew it wasn't Sam's, John was drunk... again, which wasn't surprising. 

You decided to look straight ahead and try your best to avoid his gaze, but you knew that something needed to be said to de-escalate your father.

"Daddy, I-" You began before being cut off immediately.

"Shut it. How long have you been partying?" John's voice boomed through the cab of the car. 

You shook your head, tears freely falling down your cheeks. You hated when he was angry with you, it was the worst feeling in the world. 

"I'm sorry. I convinced Dean to take me with him," You told him in a choked sob, scared of how he might react. 

John furrowed his eyebrows, reaching over and gripping your chin tightly in between his fingers, the new pressure causing you to wince. 

"Did you smoke tonight? You smell like you did," He asked through grit teeth and your head shook side to side as best as it could. "Did you drink?" He questioned again and you nodded your head cautiously. 

You couldn't lie to him, your head was spinning. 

"Are you fucking stupid, Y/N? Where was Dean?" John growled, letting go of your chin and your head felt weak. 

"He was- He was with me the entire time," You struggled to get out yet again, and his jaw tensed. Your eyes traveled to his jaw, looking back up into eyes that were nearly black.

"You're lying to me. I don't like liars, Y/N," He said callously and you shook your head in defiance, he was with you for the most part- that isn't lying. 

"Daddy, I'm not lying, I swear," You cried, feeling his hand in your hair as it lifted your chin toward the ceiling. His rough, calloused fingers traced over your neck, an unappreciative grunt leaving his throat.

"Who did this to you?" He growled, pinching the skin at your neck and you could feel yourself panicking. 

You couldn't tell him it was Dean, he would literally kill your older brother if he knew. 

"Answer me." He demanded, pinching harder and making you whimper in pain. 

"A- A girl. It was a girl," You told him, the only person you could think of being Sophia. 

Your eyes stayed focused on the ceiling as you felt his grip on your hair loosen, eyebrows creasing as you heard him chuckle deeply. It was the most terrifying laugh you had ever heard.

"A girl?" John asked, his breath hitting right behind your ear as he moved closer to you. 

The whiskey in his breath was prominent, but it was so normal that it almost felt refreshing. You whimpered when he tugged on your hair again, resting his left hand on your thigh. 

"When will you realize that you're mine, hm?" His intense growl made your breath hitch, sending shivers down your spine. "Nobody can touch you, do you understand me? I'm the only one who loves you enough, baby." He said in a softer tone, using the hand resting on your thigh to pull your legs apart from one another. 

"I know," You croaked, feeling the way his fingers were rubbing circles on top of your jeans.

John's hand trailed higher, gripping tightly onto your inner thigh, "Did she touch you there, princess?" He whispered, stopping just before your heat and you felt the wetness growing in between your legs. 

"No, Daddy," You answered solidly and he chuckled deeply into your ear. His hand lingered there and you moved around a bit to feel something.

"But you kissed her?" He asked, hand gripping tightly onto your thigh, and you nodded your head. "Did you want her to touch you there?" He asked, almost teasingly as his fingers magically inched up higher. 

"Yes, I did. I'm sorry," You told him, sudden guilt filling your stomach. 

You knew that he was the only one who loved you enough. You weren't supposed to do those kinds of things with people you didn't love. But Dean did it all the time. What made you different? Maybe he just didn't want you to- maybe this was just as wrong as kissing Dean. 

"It's okay, baby, but it can't happen again. You promise?" John asked, pressing a sloppy kiss into your neck. 

"I promise," You told him.

"What's wrong?" John asked, and at this point, you were squirming around in your seat. "Want me to touch you, hm?" He questioned again, ghosting his fingers above your heat through your jeans. Y

ou nodded your head, despite the tight hold he had on your hair. 

"Too bad. Bad girls don't get rewarded." John teased you, chuckling lowly as his hand left your thigh. 

You let out a whimper, needing now more than ever to be touched. 

"But, maybe you can make it up to me." He said, placing his lips just below your ear and nipping at the skin. 

You nodded your head, ready to do anything for him if it meant that you could get off tonight. 

"You know what to do, don't you, baby girl?" He asked, letting go of your hair and his hands came down and thumbed his jeans open. 

You gave him a small smile, letting your tears die down and dry on your cheeks, and turned towards him. He shifted his body so that his back was placed against the car door, pushing his jeans completely off, and placing one foot on the floor while the other stayed on the seat. 

Normally, this would happen in the back seat, but John seemed a little too eager tonight. You took your position, lying flat on your stomach, and propping yourself on your elbows as you looked up at him through your lashes. He swiped the hair out of your face, giving you a smile, and your fingernails dipped into the waistband of his boxers.

"Wait, baby," John stopped you, holding onto your hands that were about to pull down his boxers. "I wanna try something new, is that okay?" He asks and your brows furrowed, what haven't you learned by now? 

John shifted so that he was lying flat and you were sitting on top of him, not sure exactly what to do. 

"I want you to suck my cock while I eat you out." He said, pushing the jacket off of your shoulders. 

You wiggled it off, leaving your shirt on like he did, and his fingers came up and undid your jeans' button. 

"Daddy, I thought you said-" You began to say, feeling the guilt weighing in from doing something that he disapproved of.

"I know, baby, but you know I can't stay mad at you for very long," He cut you off, shh-ing you by pulling you by your neck and bringing you into a deep and passionate kiss. 

Your hips slid down his abdomen, your heat rubbing against his hard-on, making him moan into your mouth. His tongue explored and his teeth bit your bottom lip, extracting a moan of your own. 

As much as you loved kissing Dean tonight, or Sammy in the showers you took, John knew everything that you liked. He knew exactly how to get you going. 

"Daddy, I can't wait, I need you," You told him, desperately trying to get your release, edging yourself closer and closer as you rubbed against his erection. "I want to please you too." You compromised, knowing that he probably couldn't wait much longer either. 

"Alright, Y/N, take your clothes off," He broke the kiss, pulling at the hem of your T-shirt. 

You continued to sit on top of him, pulling your shirt over the top of your head and discarding it on the ground. A small moan left your lips when his hands came up to cup your breasts through your bra, kneading and massaging the delicate skin. 

John's hands reached around, undoing the clasp of your simple bra and guiding the fabric down your shoulders until it was on the ground. You dipped your head down to kiss him again, relishing the way your hard nipples feel against his chest, and using your hips to grind against him again. 

After a few, all too short, seconds you pulled up, working on getting your jeans off. John sat up, giving you space to do so, and discarded his own shirt, lying back down as you met him with your lips again. 

His hands roamed all over your backside, squeezing your ass and rutting his hips into you which made you gasp. He was fully hard and you could tell without having to look, he was just as desperate as you were to feel something. 

His hands slid down your waist, leaving goosebumps in their wake, pulling your panties down your thighs. He moaned into your mouth, presumably feeling your excitement, and helped you get your clothes off entirely. 

Then, he reached down and shimmied off his own boxers, continuing to kiss you as you felt his hardened cock against your core- wishing that he would give up his stupid wish of making it perfect and fuck you already, but you'll take what you can get. 

"Baby, turn around and let me taste you," John moaned into your mouth and you gave him one last peck before lifting up. 

If it were any other day, you would sit on his face as he gripped your hips, but he specifically said that he wanted his dick sucked while he ate you out- and only one position made sense. You situated yourself, both knees on either side of his head and your mouth just above his cock. 

You squealed when you felt his large hands pull you by your hips and guide you down to his face, the immediate lick on your clit almost enough to make you cum. You moaned as he began to attack you with his mouth and you took him in your hand, pumping him and rubbing your thumb over the precum that had already leaked out. 

John hummed into your clit before wrapping his lips around it, sucking and nibbling at the nub that had been calling his name all night. 

You lowered your mouth, almost unable to focus on anything other than the pleasure he was giving you, and you wrapped your lips around the glistening tip of his cock. This made him moan more into your core, encouraging you to keep doing what you're doing, so you did. 

You swallowed him down as much as you could, your lips like a vacuum as you pulled up and felt him leave your mouth with a loud 'pop'. 

It was almost a tradition to start out that way, taking him once entirely before sucking him down over and over until you couldn't breathe anymore. You were close to gagging, so close to almost fitting him all the way in, as your head bobbed up and down on his cock. 

John was dipping his tongue inside of you, going back and forth between that and sucking your clit, occasionally making obscene noises as he kitten-licked your sweet spot over and over. 

"Fuck, Y/N, you taste so good," He muttered into you, almost inaudibly, before he dove into your heat again. The praise made you want to cum all over his tongue and paint him with your juices, but even more so- it made you want to please him. 

He was using his hands to spread you apart, licking the very depth of you and coercing the familiar pit in your stomach to grow. You continued to swallow him down, warm and wet sloshing noises filling up the cabin of the truck. 

You could feel him twitch in your mouth, indicating that he was getting close. At the same time, his hands were pulling you closer to his face, making you wonder how the hell he was breathing. It felt like a race to see who came first. 

At first, his hips slowly raised so that he filled your mouth perfectly, then, he started to go faster, fucking into your mouth as he held you down. Your lips stayed sealed around him, feeling the way he hit the back of your throat and threatened to make you gag around him.

You then gathered the courage to hold him down like he was holding you. His hips stayed glued to the seat as you held him down with your hands, sucking him down with more purpose than ever before. 

His tongue was working wonders on your clit, kissing, nibbling, and sucking, and the vibrations from his groans were making your orgasm much closer. He twitched in your mouth again and you didn't dare to go up for air, you were determined to win the race. 

Your hand worked whatever you couldn't fit in your mouth, your tongue focusing on the tip which made him cry into your heat. 

Soon enough, he was cumming white, hot, and salty into your mouth, pleasing you so much that you came on his tongue as you ground on his mouth. Your hips were stuttering and you were practically screaming around him, feeling as your legs shook around his head. You swallowed him down, collecting all of your gift, as he continued to attack your soaking slit.

After a few minutes, you were both completely out of breath, fully dressed in the front seat, and having your after-pleasure-make-out-session. You could taste yourself on his tongue and he could taste himself on yours. Everything was perfect. 

Maybe you should get in trouble more often. 

"Do you really think you're ready?" John asked breathlessly, pulling back from your lips and giving you a small smile. 

"I've been ready for a long time, Daddy," You gave him a smile in return, your cheeks blushing harder at the thought of finally going all the way.

•••

Next Part

•••

Tag List ❤️

@hobby27 @writethelifeyouwant @deeranger @deans-number-one-fan

[pennylanewrites]

sur le fil [levi ackerman x f!reader]

chapter 1: la vie en rose

moving to paris, you get to meet a set of interesting neighbours; one talkative, bubbly, exciting and kind. one reserved, serious and tortured. the first will be your guide through life in paris; the latter, you soon find out is your colleague.

a/n: reader, hange, moblit and petra are 24-25 years old. erwin and levi are both 28 in this fic. erwin gets introduced soon so dw heheh

masterpost | next

packing up your whole life and moving to paris was sort of on a whim. you really only realized it when you were on the plane, and you could spot the eiffel tower, the arc de triomphe, the notre dame. oh, you were going to have so much fun.

it wasn't hard to find your new home -after taking a taxi and two buses from the airport. you had booked a room from an old lady living in a haussmannian building. three rooms were already occupied, and a kitchen, common room, library and terrace were included in the low price of 250€ per month. you assumed that the old lady simply wanted company; it wasn't easy to find something that cheap, right in the heart of paris.

"madame dubois, so nice to meet you!" you greeted the lady rushing out of the building with a handshake, but she opted for a hug and a kiss on each cheek instead. how european.

"call me paulette, darling, please." paulette was pushing 70, tall, slim and stylish. she held a slim cigarette between fingers decorated with gold rings; she wore a long linen shirt over matching pants and ballerina shoes. very french, you thought, as you followed her inside.

as you stepped inside, you were greeted by high ceilings, ornate moldings, and large windows that allow an abundance of natural light to fill the rooms. the kitchen, located at the heart of the house, had marble countertops, state-of-the-art appliances, and custom-made sage-coloured cabinets. you could tell you would have a lot of fun in this kitchen. as you left the room, you noticed a wide selection of teas, a whole countertop in fact, dedicated to them. adjacent to the kitchen was the common room, knick-knacks and books filling every surface and empty corner. The baby-blue coloured room was adorned with plush beige and off-white furniture, intricate chandeliers, and a majestic fireplace, creating a cozy and sophisticated atmosphere. the library, opposite to the living room, housed an extensive collection of books, with floor-to-ceiling shelves that exuded an air of intellectual refinement. a cozy reading nook by the window invited you to spend many afternoons with a cup of coffee and your nose in a book.

"your room is on the first floor, along with two more. then there’s mine and one more on the third, and of course the terrace, that you’re free to use whenever.” you were admiring the paintings on the walls as paulette guided you to the first floor and to the second door on the left. you wondered who the other two rooms were occupied from, but you guessed you would find out soon.

paulette unlocked the white door and handed you the key. you entered into a mainly beige and lavender-coloured room, small but efficient; the boxes you had packed were sitting in front of the bed, arriving just before you. a double bed with two nightstands stood in the middle, a large wooden dresser on the side, with intricate golden details. two wicker sitting chairs by the window and an empty desk and small bookcase. paulette was showing you the bathroom, but you were too busy admiring the notre dame from your dusty window. despite it being half-burnt, it remained beautiful.

“my room is on the top floor to the right. anything you want, i’m just a knock away.”

“thank you. you said something about other people leaving here?”

“oh, yes! moblit lives on the third floor, he’s a nice and quiet guy. zoe lives right across from you, she’s a little feisty, i guess.”

“and next door?”

you swore paulette’s face dropped when you asked.

“oh, that would be levi, my nephew. he’s a bit…reserved.” was all paulette said about your mysterious neighbour before leaving you to unpack.

you fell on the bouncy mattress and let out a content sigh. the ceiling above you had a cracked lavender and lilac tapestry with golden swirls. the walls matched it perfectly, and the curtains, though faded, were a beige to match the wood of the furniture.

why unpack now? the sun was setting and a deep purple hue played on your stretched legs. you grabbed your purse and headed for the terrace, but your journey was cut short by a loud screech.

“levi, give me my key!”

“i don’t have your key, you lost it, you idiot.” the manly voice came from next door, you noticed. you decided to step out carefully.

a tall woman turned to look at you through round glasses.

“bonsoir! we didn’t know you were coming tonight!”

“hi! zoe, right? i’m y/n.” you took a few steps back when the brunette attacked you with a warm, tight hug.

“pleasure! are you heading for the terrace? that’s the first thing i did when i came here too.”

“seems like a cozy place for a cigarette.”

“you read my mind.” she turned to your other neighbour’s door again. “levi, sors de ta chambre!” come out of your room, your high school french classes came to your rescue.

as you waited for the mysterious neighbour, you inspected zoe. her rich, chocolate-brown hair cascading down her shoulders, framed her face and round golden glasses. she wore a flowing, forest green and brown maxi dress with intricate patterns that catch the eye. completing her ensemble, she adorned herself with eclectic accessories. a collection of beaded bracelets adorned her wrists, each one telling a story of its own. around her neck hung two pendants, a round blue evil eye, and a wooden symbol of piece. her ears were filled with gold studs and the picture ended with pink delicate feather-shaped earrings, whispering a hint of whimsy.

“hange, i just came home. what could you possibly-”

“we have a new neighbour, levi. remember?” zoe motioned at you with her head and a smile, obviously not caring that she was interrupting the man’s personal time.

“okay?”

wow. rude.

“so, you should come to the terrace for a smoke. maintenant.” now.

you expected the man to slam the door in her face, but he stepped back in to grab his jacket, and came back out.

levi stood at average height, with sleek black hair reaching his nape, a fresh undercut showing underneath and a few strands shaping his face and accentuating his piercing gray eyes. he was wearing a fitted maroon t-shirt and dark gray jeans, the look finishing with all black vans and the black leather jacket in his hand. you noticed a tattoo hiding under the sleeve of his shirt. interesting.

“hi, i’m y/n. it's so nice to-”

“levi. pleasure.”

“for fuck’s sake.”

“what? i said pleasure.”

"okay,sure. go make us some tea. y/n, how do you drink yours?" you looked between the pair. why did it feel like they were about to judge whatever you said next?

"oh, i don't really like..." you trailed off because levi had only rolled his eyes at you before storming down the stairs, mumbling in french. you followed zoe to the top floor. a pair of white french doors opened to a spacious terrace, with a set of wicker couches, cozy floor pillows and a tarp-covered bar. all kinds of flowers filled the corners and a vegetable garden took up most of the space on the left.

"you'll have to forgive levi. he's a bit..."

"uptight?" zoe snorted at your comment, and you had a feeling she agreed.

"passionate about tea. he's going to bring you a cup anyway. levi has a recipe for every kind of person, and he's certain he can make everyone like it."

you took out a pack of marlboro golds and offered one to zoe. she politely declined, opening a leather pocket of tobacco to roll her own cigarette.

"so, what brings you to paris?"

i had to run away from everything and everyone in my life.

"oh, it was just time for a change. i had enough money saved up, so i thought why not?" zoe lied down on the couch opposite you and nodded in acknowledgement. "what about you? have you lived here long?"

"levi and i were born and raised in lyon. we moved here around seven years ago, for college."

"what did you study?"

architecture.

"the plan was liberal arts, but i changed to architecture my second year."

bingo.

"i never finished college. i was a history and archaeology major, but it never really...spoke to me, you know?" you put the cigarette out on the clay ashtray on the table, "so, i attended a few barista and bartending seminars, and i actually fell in love with it."

"you don't say...have you got a job yet? i'm pretty sure the café down the street is looking for someone." you could faintly see the shop zoe was talking about in the distance.

"oh, i already found something nearby. i'm starting tomorrow."

"thats brilliant, i'll have to-oh, levi, you're here!" levi stepped out to the terrace, skillfully holding up a tray with three cups. he placed an intricate one in front of you; it was a midnight purple, square mug with engraved golden stars and constellations all over. you held the steaming mug and smiled gratefully at levi. you could smell raspberry, apple and-

"tell her what it is!" zoe jumped up and down excitedly, spilling some of the hot liquid on her dress and phone. "putain." she exclaimed and wiped her phone screen on the couch pillow.

"it's black tea with raspberry syrup, apple, lemon and rhubarb."

"excellent choice of a cup too." zoe poked his side with her elbow. "what's mine, shortie?"

"it's piss." you snorted into your cup, blowing some of the liquid on your lap. you hissed and wiped it away quickly, looking up at the bickering pair.

you brought the cup to your lips, tasting it carefully. you almost winced; it was the sourest tea imaginable, and if not for the syrup, it would be bitter too. you had to admit, you got used to it after a couple of sips, and you liked it enough to keep drinking.

"did levi magically change your opinion on tea?"

"this is really nice," you looked up at levi. his gray eyes didn't leave yours as he took a sip of his own tea, "but i'm a coffee person. sorry." you smiled softly.

"if you like bean water, sure." he scoffed.

"as opposed to leaf water?" you retorted.

why the fuck is he holding the cup like that? show-off.

zoe looked between the two of you, grinning. the comfortable silence was cut short by two message notifications. you and levi took your phones out at the same time.

-you have been added to Le Café Belle Époque’s group chat

-unknown number has been added to Le Café Belle Époque’s group chat

you and levi slowly looked up at each other.

“you’re the new barista?” he scoffed.

“you…work there too?” you looked at the members of the group chat. indeed, a picture of levi sat by an unsaved number on your phone. zoe peeked over levi’s shoulder to look at his texts.

"aha! this is very exciting, n'est-ce pas?"

you had seven different words in mind to describe this, and exciting was not one of them.

waking up in your new bed, in your little room in the heart of paris, felt like waking up in a disney movie. birds were chirping outside of your window, and a few stray sunrays hit the wooden floor. with a stretch of your arms and a yawn, you looked around at the sea of boxes and suitcases. you really needed to unpack.

after searching for your summer clothes, you finally opted for a pair of white jean shorts, a flowy muted-olive shirt with thin straps and your favorite brown sandals, that strapped around your feet and ankles. you brushed your teeth and hair, and placed mascara on your eyelashes carefully. a warm-toned lipstick finished your look, and you started your voyage to the kitchen with a box in your hands.

damn you paris, with your steep staircases, you tried looking over the box to watch your step, but it was impossible.

"woah, let me help with that." you were met with a pair of dark brown eyes behind rectange glasses.

"thanks." you accepted the offer and walked behind the strange man.

"where are we heading?"

"kitchen."

the man finally set the box down on the round kitchen table, slapping the top of it.

"moblit berner. it's nice to meet you, y/n."

"how did you...?" you shook his hand with furrowed brows. moblit was wearing a well-pressed, tailored navy blue suit, a light blue dress shirt underneath and leather oxfords.

"zoe told me all about you last night. i apologize for the late introduction, but i came home after midnight." he watched as you took a polished red, vintage looking espresso machine out, placing it on the counter right by the outlet. "retro. does, uh, does levi know about the new addition to the kitchen?" moblit laughed awkwardly. you unrolled the cups you had wrapped in paper in your box and gave them a quick rinse, before setting them on top of the machine.

"i couldn't care less. paulette told me i can keep this here." you shrugged and filled the water tank. "want some coffee?"

"yes, please. the only drinks in this house all these years have been tea and alcohol." you pressed ground-up espresso in the group, and waited for the machine to warm up.

"what kind of coffee?"

"surprise me. i like it sweet, with a lot of milk. there's some almond milk in the fridge, so please use that." moblit sat down and lit a cigarette. you inspected levi's selection of syrups, powders and leaves.

"you don't think he'll mind, do you?" you held up a bottle of lavender syrup.

"it will be our little secret. better safe than sorry." you nodded and poured the syrup in the milk, frothing it while the espresso poured into a cup.

"so, where do you work, moblit?"

"i'm a reporter for libération, a news-"

"left-leaning newspaper, i know. i loved that piece on macron, the one comparing the marches to the french revolution?" you placed the cup in front of moblit, who accepted with a grateful smile.

"i wrote that one."

"of course! i thought your name sounded familiar." you chuckled and turned to make your own iced coffee.

"will we be seeing you at the café tonight?"

“i don’t know if i’m working a full shift yet. i’m only going to meet the managers and get an idea of the bar.”

“well, you’ve met one of them already.”

“levi’s a manager?” you rolled your eyes and sipped on your coffee.

“assistant. but he basically runs the place, he’s in charge of the menu, prices, schedule…” moblit grinned. “except for the new hires.”

“guess that’s why he was so surprised yesterday.”

“surprised is an understatement.”

“huh? wait, what did he say?” your eyebrow perked up. moblit just shook his head and got up to leave.

“thanks for the coffee, y/n. see you tonight!” defeated, you sat back on your chair. you slid it closer to the window and opened it wide. a warm breeze hit your face, and you smiled contently.

the rest of your day was spent unpacking, finding a space for every one of your knick-knacks and clutter. you managed to fit all of your books on the three shelves, finishing the image with some fairy lights hanging over them. most of your clothes fit in the dresser, but the rest were left in the suitcase. you really needed to buy some storage boxes soon.

it was now 2:30 in the afternoon, and after taking a warm shower, you desperately needed to eat. you sat on your bed, a towel wrapped around your hair, and pulled your phone out to search for a place to eat.

knock knock.

“come in.” you yelled out and looked behind your phone. zoe came in, looking around your room. she looked different; a tight bun sat at the bottom of her head and a classy white pantsuit hugged her body, before flaring down her calves.

“wow, nicely done. it took me two years to unpack when i got here…hey, what time do you leave for work?”

“i have to be there at six.”

“great! want to grab a bite with me? i’ll even throw in a little tour of our neighbourhood if you make me some coffee later.”

“deal.”

zoe brought you to a small, family owned restaurant cornering a main street. you watched as people walked, playing a guessing game of who was coming back from work, who was late for lunch, who had just had a fight with their partner. people-watching was a favourite of yours. it made you remember you weren’t alone in the world, that other people too had issues and feelings.

“do you eat meat, y/n? they make killer steaks here.”

“oh, i love a good steak.”

“excellent! how about i order for you?”

“yes, please.”

the waiter came to the table soon after, leaving a complimentary basket of warm bread and a butter spread.

“we’ll have two of your bavette à l’échalote, a portion of fries for the table and…two glasses of malbec please.” zoe handed the menu to the waiter and quickly attacked the bread.

“this is my favourite restaurant. it has been in the renard family for almost a century, and their recipes are practically unchanged. now, if you kindly look up, you will see my office on the top floor. i have a kicking view of the notre dame, which is…five minutes from here.” she pointed down the main road. you listened as she explained the secrets of the neighbourhood, the quirky owner of the office building, the drama between the two restaurants opposite each other.

you were so hungry when the dishes finally arrived in front of you, but you let hange do a demonstration of the dish.

“so, skirt steak. they cut it up in pieces so you can pour the sauce between them,” she spooned the golden, buttery sauce over your steak, “and i like to add it to the roasted vegetables too.” she poured the rest of it over the vegetables on the side. “and the rest you use to dip your fries!” she said excitedly, leaving the dip bowl next to the warm salted fries.

“bon appétit.” you raised the glass of red wine, clinking it with zoe’s.

after the delightful lunch, you leaned back on your chair, full and ready to go. you and zoe smoked two cigarettes each over one more glass of wine, before leaving for the café.

“are you nervous?”

“not really, i’ve done this too many times.”

“i would be. levi hates training new people.”

“good thing i don’t need training then.” you giggled and entered the café. a warm smell of cinnamon hit you, and the jazz music created a warm atmosphere around vintage furniture, a sleek dark blue bar with a marble top and the alcohol selection of your dreams.

“you’re late.” levi appeared behind the counter, startling you. you checked the clock on your phone.

“i’m 15 minutes early.”

“that’s still 5 minutes late.” he crossed his arms over his chest and stared back at you. “are you coming in here or what?”

you sighed and walked around the counter. the first thing you did was wash your hands thoroughly. levi appreciated that, but only gave a nod of approval as he walked you through the bar.

“you will be on evening shift for the time being, so here’s the old drinks menu. you’re free to change everything, except for the classic cocktails.”

“great! the last bar i was working, i experimented with tea-based cocktails, so i would like to add that. am i okay to stay after closing and use the bar for practice?”

“tea-based!” zoe exclaimed. you had almost forgotten she was there.

“tea-based.” levi repeated and you had a feeling he would explode then and there.

“ha! his eye is twitching! good one, y/n.”

“anyway, i’m adding that. i also want to make some additions to the coffee menu.” you looked over to the tea corner. “can i use the powders and syrups?”

“you’re going to add flowers and fruit in coffee?”

“is there a problem?” you didn’t even turn around to look at levi. instead, you took a pen and paper and noted down changes for the coffee menu.

“anyway. you can check the prices here, since it’s still the start. the waitresses will help you with anything else, so…”

“so?”

“show me what you got, rookie.” levi leaned back on the counter, with a challenging grin. rookie my ass, who does this guy think he is?

“ooh, ooh! make me an iced coffee, and use like, all the syrups you can.” zoe slammed her hand on the counter.

“you got it.” you prepared two shots of espresso. while that was pouring, you took a shaker, pouring coconut milk, a tablespoon of elderflower syrup and one of vanilla syrup over ice. you shook it around masterfully, making a show for zoe and levi. when the espresso was done, you mixed in a teaspoon of sugar. taking a tall glass, you filled it to the middle with ice and added the milk mixture. you poured the espresso over it, mixing it with a tall spoon carefully.

“whipped cream?” you asked and levi pointed at the fridge under the sink. you spotted a bowl of edible flowers and grabbed it as well. you placed a coaster in front of hange and the glass, spooning some of the handmade cream on top. you took the pinching tool and added three small flowers over the cream.

“et voilà!”

zoe clapped excitedly, accepting the long straw you handed her. she took a big sip, closing her eyes in delight.

“y/n, this is the best thing that has ever been in my mouth.” she wiggled around on the stool.

“i feel offended.” moblit appeared out of nowhere, wrapping his arms around zoe and leaving a kiss on her temple.

huh, i guess they’re dating, you thought.

the café wasn’t really busy, so you spent the next hour making different coffees and teas, for levi to ensure you know what you’re doing. zoe had insisted to drink all of them, so you wouldn’t have to throw them away.

“hange, you’ll spend a week in the toilet if you drink all of those.” levi tried taking the cups away, but zoe guarded them in front of her.

“the toilet happens to be my happy place. maybe i want to stay there for a week.” she made sure to drink a sip from all of them, just to spite levi.

“if you cleaned once in a while, it would be a safe place too.” you chuckled at levi’s remark.

a wave of customers rushed in, and the waiters sent order after order. it was a hectic hour and a half, but by nine o’clock, you had time to clean up the machine and your counter.

“okay, welcome to the team, i guess.” levi shoved a golden name tag and a black half-apron in your arms.

“wow, warm welcome.”

“watch it.” levi grabbed his stuff and walked around the bar. he turned to zoe. “i have to pick petra up from work, do you guys want to do something later?”

“just come back here! we can all try the new cocktail menu.” hange pushed him to the door before he could decline and came back to the bar.

“can i take these away now?” you pointed at the sea of cups and glasses in front of her.

“please do. i feel like i’m going to explode.”

“you really like to get on his nerves, don’t you?” you laughed as she nodded furiously.

“zoe has to make levi have a nervous breakdown at least once a week.” moblit commented. after everything was cleaned, you could finally calm down and work on the cocktail menu. you spotted a small blackboard sitting behind the fridge. you grabbed it and the packet of chalks and handed it to moblit.

“you look like you have nice handwriting. please write these names down for me.”

“what’s in it for me?”

“pick one and i’ll make it for you. on the house.” you grinned as moblit wrote the menu down. zoe made sure to include a few doodles of flowers and a smiley face before setting it on top of the bar, where everyone could spot it.

it was midnight when you had to cut zoe off alcohol and levi walked in, hand in hand with a petite brunette. the girl had a sleek bob with short bangs, and wore a silk pink dress that hugged her waist and thighs. an oversized brown leather jacket, a pink leather crossbody bag and brown combat boots finished the look. her makeup was the perfect mix of edgy and sweet, with a smoky eye, red cheeks and a nude lipstick. the girl greeted zoe with a hug, wincing when the strong smell of gin hit her.

“control your woman, moblit.” she joked and kissed both his cheeks before sitting down. levi took her jacket along with his and handed them to you to place behind the counter. “so, you’re y/n. a beautiful name for a beautiful girl. i’m petra.”

“pleasure.” you smiled as you served two drinks on the sidebar.

“see, she looks just fine.” levi rolled his eyes at the girl. “levi was under the impression that you would crack under the pressure and run off.”

“levi should know that i have been doing this for four years. i’m not that easy to crack.” you placed two coasters and two glasses of water in front of them.

“what are you having?”

“i want…to try one of those famous cocktails.” she pointed at the blackboard.

“famous?” you furrowed your brows.

“oh, levi talked my ear off for hours about them. you’ll have to forgive him. his old age won’t let him accept change and evolution.” she kissed his cheek after the comment, but he only sighed. “anyway, i’ll have the earl grey martini. amour?” she turned to levi, who barely looked at her.

“whiskey sour.”

“one chamomile whiskey sour coming up!”

“i said, whiskey sour.” zoe, moblit and petra were stuck looking between the two of you. you guessed levi wasn’t known for his temper. but, oh, you wanted to crack him so bad. it was so satisfying seeing his neck and ears turn red with annoyance.

“i heard you.” you hummed as you made the brunette’s cocktail in a dainty martini glass.

“so, make that.”

“but i already steeped the chamomile. it would be a waste of perfect tea.” you pouted as you poured the tea over ice. you flipped a short glass over and placed it on the bartop. a strainer on top, you poured the contents in, sliding it to the ravenette.

“just try it, cheri.”

levi brought the glass to his lips in the same stupid way he held onto that cup of tea yesterday. his gray piercing eyes never left yours, and you grinned when his expression fell. he liked it. the fucker liked it, because he took another, full sip, before sliding the glass back to you.

"i asked for a whiskey sour.” this was revenge because you didn’t like his stupid tea. you mumbled something he couldn’t hear over the music, as you made a new cocktail for him.

despite levi's eyes burning holes in you for what felt like hours, the night was going well. you got to know petra and moblit better, work was flowing nicely and a full jar of tips sat on the counter. guess people liked the new, not grumpy, bartender.

taglist: @belovedackerman @bibemiiu @thisisketchy @ch-4-s-3 @kingfleury

[nametakensff]

Come Here (S/teddie)

Decided to go off of this idea here and cooked up 3.4k of S/teve and E/ddie fucking 💕

E/ddie decides to tease S/teve with some quick inducing one hot summer day

~~~~~

Content:

M/M, established relationship, both S/teve and E/ddie have the fetish, E/ddie gets off to his own sneezing, manually induced sneezing, mentions of allergy sneezing, mentions of handjobs, dry humping, blowjobs, masturbation, spray, a little tiny mention of mess, sneezing on someone's face, teasing, nose rubbing, nose blowing, some tiiiny sprinkles of foot fetish stuff (my bad), they are both very sweaty lol

CW: nothing especially? E/ddie is playing with S/teve but they're both completely into it, S/teve is very handsy

~~~~~~

NSFW, minors please DNI!

“Stevieee.”

Lying on Eddie’s bed in a spread-eagle position, Steve was pulled out of the depths of his semi-conscious afternoon doze by the insistent neediness of his boyfriend’s voice.

“Yeah?” He called out, rubbing his eyes groggily with the heels of his palms.

“C’mere.”

Steve sighed. Moving was the last thing he wanted to do. They were in peak summertime heat, and the Munson trailer had very little in the way of functional air conditioning. It was fine if he was permitted to lie around like a spoilt house cat, but Eddie was energetic today. Granted, he was always energetic – but this was a lot even for him, given the veritable furnace-like atmosphere they were sweltering in.  He’d only been able to snag this little nap because Eddie had been so preoccupied with some fantasy novel or other, eyes flying over the words in the thick tome without pause. Not much interested in books and even less interested in watching somebody else read one, Steve had slunk away to sweat a man-shaped puddle onto Eddie’s sheets.

“Baaaby boy. I said come heeere.”

Steve’s eyes snapped open again, and he realised he had already started to dose off in those 10 seconds or so of sleepy contemplation. He knew Eddie wouldn’t stop, so with no small amount of effort he pulled himself to his feet and staggered in the direction of the living room.

He looked at Eddie through bleary eyes, an apathetic expression plastered to his face in sharp contrast with the beatific grin his boyfriend wore. They were both shirtless, dressed only in boxers. It was way too fucking hot for much more, and Eddie had only been persuaded to keep his underwear on after Steve insisted on it. He didn’t think Wayne would appreciate a great big ass-shaped sweat stain on his sofa, and Eddie had had to agree, if not reluctantly.

“What is it, Eds?” He mumbled, making his way over to sit on the couch next to the older man. Eddie promptly stopped him with a hand to the chest.

“Nope. No sitting for you.” Eddie smiled up at him.

Steve blinked, taking in the mischievous twinkle in those big brown eyes, and the electricity sparked by their mutual gaze woke him up the rest of the way faster than a shot of espresso. Oh. So it was like that. The boner he’d sustained in his sleep, though it had been flagging in the miserable heat, gave an interested little twitch. He smiled back as Eddie started to play absently with his chest hair, waiting to hear what he had in mind.

“How about you kneel for me, huh? Right here.”

Eddie gestured at the space on the floor between his spread legs. And sure. Steve could do that. He dropped to his knees, maintaining eye contact with his boyfriend as he did so. Eddie’s smile widened, all teeth and eyes crinkled at the corners, evidently very pleased with how easily Steve was willing to play along. He swung one arm over the back of the sofa; Steve watched the slight rippling of lean muscle as he moved.

“Great job, big boy.” Eddie praised him in a lilted, singsong like manner. Steve smirked.

“Thank you. I studied really hard for all my obedience classes.”

Eddie’s smile widened as he reached behind a couch cushion.

“Could have fooled me, Harrington. Always talking back, always sassing me.”

“Just following your example, I guess.” Steve shrugged, a little distracted from the verbal back-and-forth as he focused in on Eddie’s right hand – and more importantly, what he clutched between his forefinger and thumb. He opened his mouth to enquire, but Eddie was quick to interrupt him.

“Shhh, Steve.”

He didn’t offer any explanation, and Steve’s eyebrow raised in scepticism. It was only when Eddie began to move his right hand up to his face, and Steve recognised the small item in his grip, that he found himself genuinely wordless with anticipation. The small clothing tag had become a regular and happy edition to their sex life now that they had become comfortable enough to indulge in their mutual fetish. He had to admit there had been a little more reluctance on his part, but not for lack of desire; he often felt like his body was too tiny and mortal to contain the levels of excitement he experienced being around Eddie on a daily basis, let alone when he was sneezing for his – their – pleasure.

His sweaty cheeks were already flushed by the heat, but they darkened a little all the same. His mouth suddenly felt dry, his stomach full of butterflies. More importantly, his genitals were making themselves very well known, pitching a solid tent in his boxers in seconds. Eddie was looking at him through heavy lidded eyes with an almost predatory expression of hunger. Steve could relate; he loved when Eddie was equally as responsive and pliant for him. Still didn’t stop him from feeling just a little embarrassed at his own uncontrollable eagerness, though.

Eddie flashed him one last grin before slipping the little tag into his right nostril and beginning to tease. He was so sensitive, Steve thought with immense appreciation. The rim of the metalhead’s nostril twitched even before the tool was inserted, as if in lusty preparation for the tickle to come. As Eddie probed himself, both nostrils began to flare in earnest. He was a pro at this, and Steve knew it would only be a matter of seconds before the first sneeze would come trembling out of him. His allergies had been behaving today, likely because they had been sweltering inside with every window firmly shut. It didn’t mean they were completely under control, and they’d both ushered in the morning with gentle, rolling orgasms, courtesy of Eddie’s morning sneezes and both of their hands. By the cringing expression that was beginning to crumple his features as Steve looked up at him through unblinking eyes, his sinuses were as easily irritable as ever.

One final, shuddering inhale later and the metalhead was pitching forward with a ticklish little fit.

“Hh-HH! HDdt’TSsieww!! Ehdt’TChieww!! Hah’ESHH’ieww!! ‘TShhieww!! EhH’NGXtshh!!”

Steve couldn’t help it as he let out a closed-mouth moan, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Eddie had purposely leaned forward more than the natural propulsion of his fit, and so Steve had felt every droplet of the fine aerosol each sneeze pushed out of his boyfriend. He had tilted his head back ever so slightly, letting the sneezes mist his neck and chest. The cool kiss of spray felt even better than usual on his heated skin, and he shivered, breaking out all over in a pleasurable rush of goosebumps.

“Bless you,” He sighed. He wanted to reach out and grab for Eddie, but his boyfriend didn’t even so much as acknowledge that he had spoken to him, slipping the tool right back into his waiting nostril. Steve placed his restless hands on his own thighs, digging his fingernails into the muscular flesh just shy of breaking the skin.

Eddie tickled himself, gasping intermittently as Steve watched him in a dreamy haze, feeling like his bones had been replaced with jelly. He normally only felt this loose post-orgasm, but the combination of sweltering heat, his recent unconsciousness and the unexpectedness of this game left him loopy and soft.

Steve barely had to wait before the next round of sneezes was raining down upon him, the last few so unbearably tickly his boyfriend’s left leg jerked off the ground as they overpowered him.

“hh’NgXt’shieww! HAH’ENGXtch’tsieww!! IGSH’ieww!! Huh’IgKkShieww!! ESHhh’ieww! ‘DDZz’SHieww!!...Ahh, holy fuck, that felt good…”

Eddie sighed, looking about as wiped out as Steve felt. The younger man was happy to see that the metalhead was sporting an impressive erection, pressing up against his boxers and leaking a little through the fabric. His own cock jumped in response, and he swallowed down a sudden deluge of saliva as he drooled at the sight like a fucking dog.

“Fucking bless you, Eddie!” He moaned, fingers flexing as he continued to kneel in front of his sniffling boyfriend.

Eddie didn’t respond this time either, just rubbed at his tickly nose with the palm of his left hand, mashing it around roughly for a couple of moments. The wet clicking sounds the action produced made Steve throb again. He could feel the head of his cock dripping, now.

He jumped at the sudden feeling of Eddie’s heel pressing into his crotch, groaning in equal measures surprise and arousal. It was only for a fleeting moment, a cruel little nudge before Eddie placed his foot back on the ground, thighs spread even wider. Steve tried not to think too hard about how good the pressure had felt, about how much he would have liked to grip Eddie’s ankle and rut back against him. The older man laughed softly at the look of Steve’s wide-eyed incredulity, but then simply returned the tag to his nostril again, barely a pause as he worked on his next fit.

Steve wouldn’t take that shit sitting – or kneeling – down. He pressed forward, torso up against the couch cushions between Eddie’s legs, and gripped each pale thigh firmly before yanking Eddie slightly towards him. Eddie didn’t stop him; he continued to tease himself until his chest swelled with a definitive breath, forced out of him moments later with another attack of spraying, tickly sneezes.

“Hit’TSCH’hieww!! HdT’TScchieww!! EhD’TSchhiew!! ISHhh’ieww!! Hh-! Hah’ISCHHtt!!”

Steve’s eyes closed reflexively, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as those sneezes caught him squarely in the face. He sighed, shuddering slightly with adrenaline. This always felt so, so good. He was moments away from shamelessly fucking the couch where his cock pressed up against the worn cushion.

“Bless you, baby.”

Eddie sighed, a distinctly orgasmic and dramatic sigh, sinking back into the couch and luxuriating in the sensation of his own sneezes. Steve liked to sneeze, couldn’t really help the little fetish-fueled rush it gave him, but he wasn’t one to get off to the sensation itself. That Eddie did, admitted to him that sneezing alone, not even someone else’s, could make him cum – it just about made Steve’s head explode every time he thought about it.

“Thank you, Stevie.”

Steve peered up at his face, took in the way Eddie was watching him from under his dark eyelashes. Eddie was addressing him directly now, acknowledging his blessing. He reached for the metalhead’s cock, figuring if he still wasn’t allowed to touch, his boyfriend would be sure to let him know. And, yeah – immediately his searching hand was being redirected, placed right back on Eddie’s thigh. Steve bit the inside of his cheek and swallowed a low whine, feeling as though he was losing his mind just a little bit – even more so as Eddie reached up to tease his nostril again, barely skimming the rim before another set of irritated sneezes burst out of him.

“Hh’EHhTT’TCHieww!! IGSHhh’IEWw!! Hah’EScHh’IEww!!....IISCHhhhhh!”

That lingering, definitive sneeze was so incredibly desperate, so high pitched as it misted over Steve’s face that the resultant shiver of pleasure that rolled down his spine had his hips thrusting involuntarily against the couch. It had been a pretty wet sneeze, too – Steve reached out with a large hand to wipe away the little dribble of saliva that dampened Eddie’s bottom lip. The intimacy of it made both of them moan.

“God bless you. You’re so sneezy, honey. So hot.”

He was getting bolder, incrementally, with every time that they fucked, but Steve couldn’t help cringing just a little at the sound of those words leaving his mouth – even if the giddy rush of arousal they produced was intoxicating. He could handle the embarrassment, however, as long as his words continued to have the effect on Eddie they had evidently just done. His boyfriend almost whimpered, squirming in his seat, cock rock-hard and begging to be touched. Steve was dying. He wanted his hands on Eddie more than he’d ever wanted anyone else’s hands on him – and he always wanted hands on him.

“Mm, thank you. Tickles so much.”

Steve swore and reached for Eddie’s cock, groaning like a petulant toddler when he was once again denied with a quick slap to the wrist. His hands gripped into the flesh of his boyfriend’s thighs, flexing intermittently in restless irritation.

“Eddie,” Steve groaned, voice strained and gravelly.

Eddie said nothing, but as he made to slip the inducing tool right back into his nose, something in Steve snapped. He yanked Eddie forward with a hand behind his knee, causing the older man to yelp in surprise, before manoeuvring the captured leg between his thighs and pressing his straining cock against the older man’s shin. It wasn’t an ideal body part to hump – a soft thigh, an ass, a crotch were all infinitely preferable. Even the sole of Eddie’s foot, the arch of it, pressing up against his cock…but this would have to do. He was pushing his luck as it was.

He started to buck his hips, wishing he was fucking his boyfriend’s ass, imagining the tight clench of muscles around him. Gripping the sweaty skin behind Eddie’s knee was making the angle a little easier, and he found a rhythm faster than he’d expected to.

“Fucking hell, Stevie!” Eddie giggled, pressing his leg up, hard, squashing Steve’s cock and balls between the limb and his own body. Steve gasped – it felt awful and wonderful all at once, and then the pressure was gone and he was pushing himself forward, chasing the contact as if possessed.

“So sensitive.”

Steve huffed at him.

“Shut up. This all your fault, Munson.” He stared up at Eddie. “Look at what you fucking do to me.”

The look that Eddie gave him as he took in the sight of him, the nakedness of his desperation, was so loaded with emotion – burning desire, fondness, awe – that Steve almost swooned with the resultant rush of blood to his already swollen cock.

“Yeah. All my fault...” Eddie muttered, sounding breathless and ruined. Steve wished their chests were pushed together so he could feel the feverish beating of Eddie’s heart, the rapid in and outs of his laboured breathing.

When Eddie raised the tool back up to his nostril, Steve nearly came on the spot. He managed to hold back, gritting his teeth and choking back a strangled ‘fuckkk!’ He wanted to time it just right, bust a nut inside his boxers right as Eddie was showering him with spray. It was going to be an intense orgasm, judging by the way his entire body was beginning to heat up, so, so hot, sweat prickling on his skin as his universe narrowed down to the throbbing in his cock and the sight of his boyfriend’s twitchy pink nostrils.

Eddie’s face crumpled, tongue pressing against his bottom lip as the sneezes built, tickling himself in earnest. His chest jumped with violent hitching breaths, a single tear of irritation beginning to roll down the side of his face. It was so painfully erotic Steve couldn’t catch his breath – the oncoming orgasm leaving him stupid and operating on animalistic impulse alone. He felt his balls drawing up in preparation, felt the coiling pressure in his belly tightening, ready to explode in a euphoric release.

Eddie gasped – a huge, desperate intake of air that sounded almost pained as he pressed the clothing tag as deep into his nostril as he could. He held it there, frozen for an intoxicating moment, the cresting tickle as monumental as Steve’s approaching orgasm. When he did sneeze, they barrelled out of him, an intense rush of both air and sound, overpowering Steve’s senses and ushering his orgasm in so abruptly he yelled with it.

“HUH-!! HHIIISSHHH’IEww!! HahDT’TScHieww!! ENGXT’TSchieww!! IGSSHh!! Hh! HuH’ISSSH’Ieww!! EhH’NGXT’Tschieww!! DDZ��Zshieww-! Heh!! Hahdt’TSSCH’IEWww!!”

Steve came throughout, twitching helplessly, his face a twisted rictus of ecstasy. The sweet, throbbing pleasure of it pulsed through him, cock spitting cum into his underwear, soaked and sticking to the skin of his boyfriend’s leg. He finished cumming in time to tip forward and press his head against Eddie’s thigh, mouth still frozen in an ‘o’ of pleasure, as Eddie sneezed one last time over the expanse of his back. He groaned as the aerosol rained gently across his spine, thoroughly sneezed on and contented in a way only his fetish could make him.

“Ohh fuckkk…” He muttered after a moment, drooling a little onto the soft, pale skin pressed up against his face. Eddie laughed breathily.

“You’re welcome.” He sniffled, the sound of it ominously thick.

Steve gingerly raised his head, feeling almost drunk in the oppressive heat of the room and the closeness of their bodies. Eddie had covered his nose and mouth with a hand, and Steve knew those last few sneezes had been productive.

“Do you need a tissue, baby? Made a mess?”

Eddie nodded, eyes smiling over the protective cradle of his hand.

“Sure.” Another thick sniffle that had Steve’s cock twitching almost painfully with a pitiful, post-orgasm spasm. “But I think you made a bigger one.”

Steve blushed, sighing and pulling himself up on shaky legs. God, that had felt good. He’d practically painted the inside of his underwear, Eddie was right about that. He smiled a goofy, sated smile at Eddie before making his way over to the bedroom. He considered his messy state for a moment, then simply shrugged before removing his underwear and wiping his cock on the clean parts of the fabric. He sighed in over sensitised pleasure; he was still hard and it felt great to stroke himself. He indulged for a few moments longer before flinging his underwear onto the pile of dirty laundry on the floor and returning to the living room, entirely naked and box of tissues in hand.

Eddie was fumbling his left hand over his crotch, pawing lazily at his straining erection as his right hand remained covering his face. Steve’s cock gave an appreciative twitch at the sight of it. He knew in that moment that he wanted his boyfriend to finish in his mouth. He proffered the box to Eddie, waiting for the older man to reach up and take it before he returned to a kneeling position between his legs. As Eddie pulled back his hand, Steve caught sight of the glistening mess underneath for just a moment, and then the metalhead was scrubbing himself clean and indulging in a long, crackling blow. It ended with an awkwardly loud honk that had the pair of them locking eyes and giggling like stupid kids.

When he was done, Eddie simply let himself melt back into the couch.

“That was fun.” He drawled, eyes closed and head tilted back. Steve’s hand crawled up the inside of his thigh. “Did you like that?”

Steve snorted.

“Did I like that? You drained me dry, dude. That felt so fucking good.”

“Yay.” Eddie offered, the corners of his mouth turning up with a smug little smile.

Steve began to pull Eddie’s underwear down, and the older man cooperated by lifting his ass off the couch.

“Not going to slap my hand away this time?” Steve half-heartedly joked, pupils blown wide at the sight of Eddie’s leaking, solid cock. He was salivating in moments, leaning forward and inhaling the scent of him deeply. The press of sweaty pubic hair against his face as he nestled his nose up against the base of his boyfriend’s cock was familiar and intoxicating. Eddie’s breath hitched in anticipation, and Steve knew his arousal was fueled partially by the promise of a blowjob, but even more so out of the suggestible proximity of his pointed nose against his genitals.

“Go to town, honey. I’m not stopping you.”

Steve smiled, kissed his way up the length of Eddie’s cock before pressing his tongue into the slit of his urethra. Eddie uttered a garbled, broken moan, hips bucking uncontrollably and cock head leaking fluid in response.

“You know,” Steve started after licking his palm and wrapping it around Eddie’s sweaty shaft. “Normal people just ask for blowjobs when they want one without the pretence of sneezing all over their boyfriend.” He took the head of Eddie’s cock into his mouth, licking it a couple of times like a melting popsicle before sucking on it, hard.

“Ohh, Stevie…..my way is so much more – ahh! More fun-!” Eddie choked out, fingers reaching out to wrap themselves in Steve’s floppy hair.

Steve couldn’t disagree in the least, replaying the sights and sounds of his boyfriend’s sneezing in his mind as he sucked him down like he was best damn thing he’d ever tasted.

[2996-sana]

Roommate Chronicles

Y/N couldn't help but feel a tinge of apprehension as they were introduced to her new roommate, Roseanne Park. Jisoo, their mutual friend, had insisted that Rosé was a great person, but the initial encounter left Y/N questioning Jisoo's judgment.

"Hi, I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you, Rosé," Y/N greeted with a friendly smile.

"Hey," Rosé replied, her voice laced with a hint of aloofness as she gave a nod of acknowledgment.

Moving into the shared apartment did little to thaw the icy atmosphere between them. Conversations were scarce, and when they did occur, they were brief and laced with an uncomfortable chill.

"Hey, do you mind if I borrow your hairdryer?" Y/N asked, hoping to break the tension.

"Sure," Rosé replied, handing over the hairdryer without making eye contact.

Y/N couldn't understand why Rosé seemed so closed off. They wanted to bridge the gap and establish a connection.

"You know, we should try to get to know each other better," Y/N suggested tentatively.

Rosé looked up from her book, her eyes briefly meeting Y/N's. "I guess we could give it a shot," she replied, her tone softening slightly.

Days turned into weeks, and as they settled into their routines, Y/N and Rosé found themselves sharing more moments together.

Y/N, while preparing dinner, said, "So, what's your favorite food, Rosé?"

Rosé, cautiously, responded, "Hmm, I don't know. I guess I like Korean barbecue."

Y/N smiled and suggested, "We should go out for barbecue sometime! It'll be a good chance to bond."

Surprised by the invitation, Rosé replied, "Yeah, that could be fun."

As their conversations grew, Y/N discovered that Rosé's quiet demeanor masked a world of thoughts and emotions.

Excitedly, Y/N shared, "You won't believe what I learned in my Political Science class today!"

Rosé, genuinely interested, asked, "What was it?"

Their discussions became more frequent, ranging from light-hearted banter to sharing personal anecdotes.

Teasingly, Y/N remarked, "You know, Rosé, for someone who seems so aloof, you're actually pretty funny."

Rosé chuckled softly and admitted, "Yeah, I guess I have my moments."

Jisoo and the other friends noticed the slow progress between Y/N and Rosé, but couldn't resist playfully teasing them.

Teasingly, Jisoo remarked, "You two are practically inseparable now. Are you sure you're just roommates?"

Blushing, Y/N replied, "Come on, Jisoo, don't be ridiculous!"

As their bond strengthened, Rosé began to show her care for Y/N in subtle ways.

Touched, Y/N asked, "Wait, did you leave this note on my desk? It's so sweet."

Trying to downplay it, Rosé responded, "Oh, it's nothing. Just thought it might brighten your day."

Despite these gestures, doubt still lingered in Y/N's mind.

Confiding in Jihyo and Mina, Y/N shared, "I can't shake off the feeling that Rosé actually hates me."

Reassuringly, Jihyo said, "Sometimes, people struggle to express their emotions. Give her a chance, Y/N. You might be surprised.” During spring break, when their friends all left for their hometowns, Y/N and Rosé found themselves alone together for an entire week. It was a chance for their dynamic to evolve. During spring break, when their friends all left for their hometowns, Y/N and Rosé found themselves alone together for an entire week. It was a chance for their dynamic to evolve. Y/N, coughing weakly, said, "I think I caught a cold, Rosé. Ugh, this is terrible." Rosé, concern evident in her voice, replied, "Oh no, that's not good. You should rest and take care of yourself. Is there anything I can do to help?" Y/N, surprised by the genuine concern, smiled weakly, "Thanks, Rosé. That means a lot. Could you bring me some hot tea, please?" Rosé immediately sprang into action, returning moments later with a steaming mug of tea. She handed it to Y/N, saying, "Here, this should help soothe your throat."

Y/N, touched by the gesture, said, "You didn't have to do this, but I appreciate it. You're being really sweet." Rosé shrugged, trying to hide her blush, "Well, it's not like I want you to be miserable. Plus, it's what friends do, right?" The word "friends" lingered in the air, and both Y/N and Rosé felt the weight of its significance. As the days passed, Rosé took on the role of caretaker, making sure Y/N had everything they needed to recover. Y/N, looking up at Rosé with gratitude, said, "I didn't know you cared about me. To be honest, I kind of thought you hated me. "Rosé's eyes widened with surprise and a hint of pain. "What? No, why would you think that? I might not be the best at showing it, but I do care about you. A lot." Y/N, her voice filled with vulnerability, confessed, "It's just... You've always seemed so distant, and I couldn't help but wonder if I did something wrong." Rosé sighed and sat down beside Y/N on the couch, their shoulders almost touching. "I've always had trouble expressing my emotions. It's not that I don't care, it's just... I've been afraid to let people in. But with you, it's different. You're different." Y/N turned to face Rosé, her eyes searching for the truth. "Different how?" A soft smile graced Rosé's lips. "You made me realize that it's okay to let someone in, to care about them. Being with you has changed me, Y/N. And I don't want you to ever doubt how much you mean to me." Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she reached out to hold Rosé's hand. "I'm sorry for doubting you, Rosé. I'm just grateful that we had this time alone together. It made me see a side of you I never expected." Rosé squeezed her hand gently. "Don't apologize. I should have been more open with my feelings from the start. But now, I promise to do better." In that moment, the walls between them crumbled, and their connection deepened. They realized that beneath their initial misunderstandings and guarded facades, a beautiful friendship had blossomed. From that day forward, Y/N and Rosé's apartment was filled with laughter, genuine conversations, and a newfound understanding. They had come a long way from being mere roommates to becoming confidants and best friends. After spring break, when their friends returned, Y/N and Rosé joined the group for a gathering at Jisoo's place. Laughter filled the room as they shared stories from their time apart. Y/N and Jennie seemed to be in deep conversation, their voices hushed and smiles exchanged. Rosé watched them intently, her eyebrows slightly furrowed, trying to decipher the nature of their conversation. Lisa, noticing Rosé's contemplative expression, couldn't resist teasing her. "Hey, Rosé, seems like Y/N and Jennie are having a good time. Are you feeling a little jealous?" Rosé's eyes widened, caught off guard by Lisa's remark. She quickly averted her gaze and scoffed. "What? No way. I'm not jealous. They're just friends, right?" But deep down, Rosé's heart clenched with jealousy, even if she didn't want to admit it. Y/N was important to her, and the thought of someone else getting too close made her feel uneasy. Meanwhile, Y/N and Jennie continued their conversation, unaware of the turmoil it stirred within Rosé. Their voices were laced with laughter and shared secrets, their camaraderie apparent. "You know, Y/N," Jennie said with a sly grin, "I think someone might be a little bit jealous." Y/N furrowed her brows, pretending innocence. "Jealous? What are you talking about, Jennie?" Jennie leaned in closer, lowering her voice playfully. "Rosé. She's been watching us with that intense look on her face. It's obvious she doesn't like sharing your attention." Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, a blush creeping up her cheeks. They stole a glance at Rosé, who quickly averted her gaze, but not before Y/N caught a hint of a pout on her lips. Trying to keep the situation lighthearted, Y/N smirked. "Oh, really? Well, I guess I'll have to pay her some extra attention then." Jennie chuckled, enjoying the playful banter. "Go ahead, make her jealous. Let's see how she reacts." With a mischievous glint in her eyes, Y/N moved closer to Rosé, her voice intentionally loud enough for her to hear. "You know, Jennie, it's been really great talking to you. But I have to say, there's someone else who's been occupying my thoughts lately." Jennie's eyes widened, realizing the extent of Y/N's playful act. She played along, nodding knowingly. "Oh, really? And who might that lucky person be?" Y/N glanced at Rosé, who was now listening intently. She smiled, her voice gentle yet intentionally audible. "It's Rosé. There's just something about her that captivates me. Her smile, her talent, her caring nature... I can't help but feel drawn to her." Rosé's eyes widened in surprise, a mix of emotions flickering across her face. Y/N's words hung in the air, causing a brief pause in the conversation. Jennie, sensing the weight of the moment, nudged Y/N lightly. "Well, it seems like you've made quite the confession. Now it's up to Rosé to respond." Y/N turned to Rosé, her voice softening. "Rosé, I hope you know that everything I said was true." Rosé stared at Y/N, her expression a mix of surprise and vulnerability. Her voice trembled slightly as she found the courage to speak. "Y/N, I... I didn't know you felt that way. I've been so afraid to let my guard down, to let you see how much you mean to me. I like you Y/N, in ways I can't fully express." The air around them shifted, the unspoken tension now replaced with a raw honesty that brought them closer together. In that moment, the weight of their unspoken feelings dissolved, replaced by a newfound connection and understanding. Y/N reached out, her hand gently touching Rosé's. "Rosé, I don't want to play games or hide our emotions anymore.”  From then, their apartment became a sanctuary of shared laughter, affectionate gestures, and whispered confessions. Y/N and Rosé's dynamic transformed into something beautiful and undeniable. They spent countless evenings curled up on the couch, engrossed in deep conversations and discovering new sides of each other. Rosé, once aloof and guarded, now opened up, allowing Y/N to witness her vulnerability and genuine warmth. Y/N couldn't help but marvel at the way Rosé's eyes sparkled when she talked about her passions, the way her laughter filled the room, and the gentle touch of her hand as they intertwined their fingers. In return, Y/N shared her dreams, fears, and aspirations with Rosé. She found solace in her presence, knowing that Rosé would always be there to support and uplift her. One evening, as they sat side by side on their balcony, watching the sun dip below the horizon, Y/N leaned her head on Rosé's shoulder. Her voice was soft, filled with gratitude. "Rosé, I'm so grateful for you. You've shown me a kind of love and understanding I never thought possible. You've changed my life in ways I can't even express." Rosé turned to Y/N, her eyes shimmering with affection. "Y/N, being with you has brought a lightness to my heart that I didn't know I was missing. You've taught me how to love and be loved, to embrace vulnerability without fear. I'm thankful every day for the chance to be with you."  Their once-distant hearts had found their forever home in each other's embrace, forever grateful for the serendipitous twist of fate that had brought them together.

[rinriya]

IF Masterpieces pt.1

Wayfarer by @idrellegames

This is a unique, original and incredibly interesting game. A rich plot, deeply written characters, unusual twists and turns, lots of choices and options, and an incredible amount of work involved. This game is absolutely unique in its genre and type. “Wayfarer” combines aspects of rpg and dark fantasy literature. There are many twists and turns that make it easy for your game to take a different path. All the decisions you make are sure to be reflected in the aftermath. An absolute must-have for fans of rpg, fantasy, and books. (My MC)

Werewolves: Haven Rising by Jeffrey Dean

This is an incredibly compelling story that will make you feel like a strategist who needs to make decisions in the most difficult situations and not break down. “Werewolves” is exceptional in its genre of military fantasy. The novel is full of unexpected twists and turns. Not in a "well I guessed it" kind of way, but in a "fuck what?" kind of way. It's insanely interesting, insanely suspenseful and thrilling. Discover terrible secrets and protect those who you care about. The path you have to go through will be very difficult.

A Mage Reborn by @mage-parivir

Do you want to have your heart broken? Then this game is for you. “A mage reborn” is an author's fantasy with a fully crafted world, laws, magic, and history. The long and beautiful descriptions make the lore fun to explore and learn, and the dynamic scenes allow you to immerse yourself in battles and tense situations. You know what this novel reminded me of? A good fantasy anime. It's got that classic sword-and-magic vibe with sacrificial hero. I like that drama. (My MC)

The Fog Knows Your Name by Clio Yun-su Davis

It's a very compelling story, moreover it’s finished! “TFKYN” is an intriguing and mystical story with a dash of detective, but more paranormal phenomena. The story is filled with mystery, oppressive atmosphere and tension, which perfectly conveyed in the text. Сanon in such stories is the end result of player choices. Who they want to be with, how they want to act, and what the result will be, but in this story, for me personally, a meaningful canon is only one. It's very painful, but beautiful storyline. 

The Soul Stone War by @intimidatingpuffinstudios

If you want to feel like an adventurer who gets into the most unusual and dangerous situations, then this game is clearly for you. An intriguing plot, fun company and a lot of adventure await you. Solve mysteries, fight and save the world. The plot is incredibly intriguing and you want to know all the secrets of your companions. You constantly want to know what happens next. (My MC)

Superstition by @13leaguestories

I play a lot of short stories, both IF and VN, but I rarely get emotional when I play them (I'm not the most easily impressible reader), but what the text of the Superstition did to me... I can't put it into words. It's been a long time since I was so emotionally tossed from side to side. This work is an incredible swing from which you constantly fall off, face into a dirt, but stubbornly get up and keep on swinging. This work is full of mysticism, darkness, twists and turns, drama, and oh yes, so many suffering. (My MC)

Wayhaven Chronicles by @seraphinitegames

I assure you, you will spend several nights without sleep, because “Wayhaven Chronicles” is the best modern fantasy. It's a detective story that will make you feel every dangerous and tense moment. This is a beautifully written story that you won't be able to tear yourself away from. Be a detective who's fighting for justice in this world and protecting people. Learn stunning secrets, discover a whole new world, and become the person who turns things upside down. Be the one who becomes an indispensable and important member of the plucky team. (My MC)

The Bastard of Camelot by @llamagirl28​​

If you love stories based on the legends of Arthur, then you should definitely play this awesome game. Become Mordred and write your own story. This is a very beautiful version of the famous legend. You can meet different people, ride a dragon, use magic and learn the secrets hidden in other people's hearts. Will you become the terror of Camelot, or will you prove to everyone that prophecies can be wrong? 

Supernatural in New York by @llamagirl28​

Immerse yourself in the world of supernatural creatures, meet many interesting personalities and join an extraordinary team to help and save others. This is a big and very interesting game that you read like a book! A great story, well-written characters and incredible adventures in the modern world, but with the supernatural addition. You will find colorful descriptions, many interesting references and choices that will affect future consequences. Also this story has the species nsfw scenes. Highly recommend. And tame your own dragon!

The Midnight Saga: The Monster by @the-keeper-of-midnight​

If you love well-thought-out story as much as I do, then you will definitely love this game. The story takes place in the modern world, but with elements of mysticism and the supernatural. Discover a completely different world, abilities and history! There are many interesting things in game: lore, monsters, abilities, even a parallel world! This is not a standard fantasy, because the author brought a lot of unique things to the story. The game is good not only with text, but also with quests. Yes, you can visit different locations, collect legendary weapons, create an armor and unlock the secret ending. You can even die in a variety of situations, so be careful! And omg, this game contains one of the spiciest and hottest nsfw scenes I ever read. (My MC)

[allaboutthedrama]

I know that I'm pretty late to the conversation, but I've just reread all of Vampire Academy and Bloodlines (possibly for The Untitled Jill Project) and it's the first time I've reread the VA series in years.

I'm just thinking about how, in my opinion, the quality of the VA series improved as we got into the last few books, and with Bloodlines, I think the reverse sort of happened. Spoilers for both series ahead. (Yeah, the last book came out nine years ago, but you never know.)

I think I hadn't realized how cohesive the ending of Last Sacrifice was. Details from as far back as the first book came up and were very relevant. The political plotline came together in a really tight way, Sonya Karp turned out the be Chekov's spirit user, we got more world-building details, the antagonists had complex and convoluted motivations, and even when there were plot threads left dangling, those actually served a purpose. I loved the part where Adrian pointed out to Rose that her actions had consequences and even though she had gotten what she wanted, not everything else was resolved, so people like Eddie and Sydney and Jill were left in bad situations, and she was partly responsible. It created a little more moral ambiguity, which I really enjoyed, especially since YA tends to like the very neat endings where everything winds up happily ever after.

The Vampire Academy books improved the deeper into the series you got. And, although I love Bloodlines, I do think that the first three books are much stronger than the last three. Which is a shame, because the series has so much potential.

I think Mead is at her best when she's writing something of a mystery. Last Sacrifice obviously comes to mind (they're solving a murder mystery, after all). Bloodlines had that, with the tattoos, Lee, and Keith being shady all building up to a really exciting climax. The Golden Lily wasn't quite as much of one, but the clues leading up to the reveal of the Warriors were well-placed. Indigo Spell went straight back into mystery territory, trying to find Jackie's sister. And then The Fiery Heart is where, in my opinion, things start to falter. There's a lot of interesting worldbuilding information introduced, with the new details about spirit and magic coming up, and it was fun to get into Adrian's head, but it definitely felt like this supernatural romance was shifting to become a lot more romance and a lot less concerned with the supernatural. But that's not such a big deal. It's the middle of the series, we're building tension, Re-Education has been a threat hanging over Sydney since page one of Bloodlines and we're finally seeing that fear pay off.

But then we get to Silver Shadows, and while I guess figuring out where Sydney is could be a mystery, it doesn't really resonate the way 'who killed the queen' does, in my opinion. Sydney's arc in Re-Education is great, and I do like the way the books deal with Adrian's mental health issues, but some of Adrian's chapters felt more like filler. And a bigger issue, imo, was that this was when we really started to lose the side characters. Some of my favorite parts of the first few books were characters like Jill, Eddie, Trey, and Angeline, and then the ensemble atmosphere was largely gone, because Sydney was in Re-Education and Adrian left Palm Springs. The final fight and flight sequence was really good, though, so I had high hopes going into The Ruby Circle.

The Ruby Circle is probably my least favorite of the books between both of the series, and I think that's a shame, since it's the finale. We'd just had a 'kidnapped character' arc, so I think there was less emphasis on describing everyone's reactions. We saw the biggest reaction from Eddie, but as a result, he got kind of flattened out from the really well-rounded character he'd been from the back half of the VA books and the first part of Bloodlines.

The Ruby Circle could have been a really good mystery, with lots of twists that tied up a lot of the lingering questions from the series. Except that a lot of threads from the rest of the series were dropped and didn't resurface. They never caught whoever was behind the assassination attempt on Jill. I don't think we even got an official resolution on whether Lissa managed to change the quorum law. The political plots that were integral to VA weren't significant in Bloodlines, despite it all starting because of a politically motivated assassination. We also never got a resolution on the rogue spirit user who turned Lee back from being Strigoi, or the spirit users who had been sent to the psychiatric facility in Tarasov (the prison from Spirit Bound). We never found Robert Duro. The bond itself was somewhat discarded, too, whenever it wasn't immediately useful for a plot point. Instead, we just got a scavenger hunt across the country, a few fight scenes where the protagonists were pretty much guaranteed to win, and a final showdown with a magic barrier that, as we learn after, would have dropped down on its own in a few hours for them to bring Jill food, anyways.

I obviously still like the series, since I'm rereading it and talking about it nine years after the fact. But I think that there were a lot of opportunities to continue plots from VA that were lost, even when they should have been brought back into the story.

If anyone has made it this far, I suppose I should throw in a pitch for The Untitled Jill Project, which will be my attempt to rewrite the Bloodlines series from Jill's perspective, because I think there's still a lot more story to be told. I haven't got it all mapped out, but I intend to at least tie up some of the narrative loose ends I mentioned that bothered me about the series in that story. I might write up another post here soon about how Jill's characterization also suffered as Bloodlines went on, if anyone's interested.

Anyways, if anyone has any strong opinions on what I said (agreeing or disagreeing) please let me know! I'd love to talk about the series with people, since no one in my real life has read it, and I'm curious to know what the rest of the fandom thinks about how the narrative progressed in Bloodlines.

[ac0531]

Together

The new rayllum clip still has me screaming!!! I instantly had this idea come into my head when watching it, so I hope you guys enjoy!!

Look!” Callum pointed up to the sky, enthusiastically tracing the pattern of the stars. “You can see the big spoon!”

“The what?” Rayla gave him a quizzical look, her curiosity piquing at the term Callum had just given that constellation.

“Don’t you have names for constellations here?” Callum asked, turning his attention back to his sketch book, tracing the lines of another drawing.

“Yeah, we do.” Rayla tried not to chuckle, looking back at the sky, smiling to herself. “I guess they’re just different.”

That caught Callum’s attention, turning to look back at the elf. He’d never heard of the constellations being different to others, but maybe it was something that the elves shared. “So what do you call the big spoon?”

Rayla leaned forward, eyes trained on the set of stars that Callum had pointed out. “That’s Garlaath, The Annihilator.” She spoke without hesitation, resting her hands on her knees.

“Oh..” Callum pondered for a second, confused on what all that meant. He noticed out of the corner of his eye Rayla looking at him. “…neat.”

He smiled to himself, deciding to continue. “Uh, those five stars in a row are supposed to be the handle of the big spoon.” He explained, tracing his graphite across the paper, making the outline of a spoon.

Rayla leaned over, catching a glimpse of the drawing. She smiled to himself, enjoying the subtleness of their time together. It was something that… she really needed with him. “Those five stars are Garlaath’s bandolier of skulls.”

Despite still being confused, Callum went along with Rayla. “Uh huh, I see it. Unusual garment choice for Garlaath, not very subtle.”

Rayla’s lips formed into a small smile, leaning back against the rock. “Annihilators don’t need to be subtle.” She explained, noticing Callum shift his focus to another set of stars.

“What do you call that star?” He pointed to an extremely bright orb illuminating, radiating with energy. “The brightest star in the sky. We call it the South Star, humans use it to navigate you know, to… to find their way in the endless darkness of the night.”

As Callum explained the origins of the star, Rayla leaned forward to get a better look. Hearing Callum talk about how humans used the stars for navigation and understanding was interesting to her, but the more she listened, the more her attention diverted away from his words, to him…

To her big, dumb human that was smiling, enjoying himself, being enthusiastic about the conversation. A feeling of relief, mixed in with satisfaction washed over her, her eyes never leaving him.

Smiling, she lowered her head, resting her cheek against his shoulder. Callum froze, his mind blanking for a second on what he was just talking about. He felt heat starting to form on his face, thinking it was from the fire… when that was just a small excuse.

“W-Wha… What’s happening?” Callum stuttered, still not finding the words.

“Callum…” Rayla began, eyes closing and feeling a sense of bliss. “I’m glad we can be here together. Looking at the stars…”

Her words surprised Callum, but only for a second. His lips formed into a soft smile, a feeling of warmth buzzing in the pit of his stomach. Feeling a bit of confidence within him, Callum leaned in, resting his cheek on top of her head, closing his eyes.

There was silence now, safe for the sounds of animals in the distance and the crackling of the fireplace. It created for an atmosphere of tranquility, with no one there to interrupt them, to disturb this peaceful moment.

Rayla knew that there was still a lot to sort out between her and Callum, but for now, she chose to savor this moment, to be with the person she still loved.

She felt… safe in his hold.

Safe from the outside world.

Safe….

“That beautiful shining star you just pointed out, we call it: Leola’s Last Wish.”

“Huh…” Callum thought for a moment, not knowing who that was. Even after all the books he had read, that name never once appeared in any of the texts. “Who’s Leola?”

“I don’t know.” Rayla looked up at him. “Garlaath’s friend maybe?” There was a hint of playfulness in her voice, and Callum couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle as his arm slowly wrapped around her back, keeping her close to him.

Now there was silence again, the two not knowing what else to say. Callum would occasionally look down at Rayla, seeing her eyelids getting heavier, her hand coming up to rest on the spot where his heart was.

She exhaled softly, feeling the steady rhythm of it. It reminded her that he was still here, still alive, and with her to enjoy this.

A few more minutes passed, Callum having pushed his sketchbook to the side now.

“Rayla?” Callum whispered, but noticed that she has fallen limp against him, letting out soft breaths. Her hand hadn’t left the spot where she’d rested it, and Callum smiled.

Gently, he took her hand in his, bringing it up to his mouth. His lips made gentle contact with the skin there, leaving small kisses, giving her a reminder that he was still here, and wasn’t going anywhere.

But it didn’t stop there, as the next thing Callum knew, his lips touched the top of her head, giving her a small kiss near the base of one of her horns.

It served as a reminder that he’d protect her, not lose her after the scare at Umber Tor.

A reminder that he still loved her, no matter what has happened.

“I’m so happy I get to spend this moment with you too…” He whispered, feeling drowsiness overtake him.

It didn’t take long before he was sound asleep, holding his elf closer.

Because in the end, he had her and she had him.

And they were going to be alright…

[alovelywaytospendanevening]

Hello there, I can't believe it's taken me this long to ask you all about 'The Charioteer'! I'd love to hear your thoughts on the book 🧐

Oh yeah, I guess we never talked much about The Charioteer!

I remember finding its synopsis interesting, but I was worried it would be a violent and/or depressing war story — in fact, I was still suspicious there would be some kind of tragedy right until the end of my first reading. Thankfully, the novel is nothing of the sort. It’s fundamentally a character-driven story: slow, calm, and very introspective. It’s immersive and atmospheric in a rather organic way, making you feel the lives of these people rather than just following the plot from point A to point B. The English countryside setting is obviously a plus.

And I love Renault’s writing. Yes, sometimes it can be a little hard to understand what she’s really trying to say at first (it got a lot better on the second reading, though), but she amazingly managed to be elusive, poetic, and emotional without ever being sappy. Her characters are flawed, wounded, and so very much alive, to the point it’s hard to not get attached to them. I admit that part of what made me enjoy the novel so much was because I saw myself in Laurie; I think we have somewhat similar personalities. Ralph and Andrew are also very charming characters in their own particular ways (I was actually a little surprised to find TC fandom is so Ralph-centric, because I think Andrew is quite fascinating too!). You can feel the flesh and blood even in the characters where Renault shows her prejudicial bias (Bunny, Sandy, and Lucy), which just goes to show how skilled a writer she really was. The way she portrayed the main trio is quite fresh for the time, meaning they’re undoubtedly homosexual, but they’re not trapped in this identity, while still being sexual beings.

When all is said and done, despite some points of bleakness, this is a positive and hopeful story that helped set the tone for a movement that would finally reach the mainstream sphere over the next decade (whether Renault wanted it or not 😅). I imagine it must have made quite an impression on some people back in the day.

By the way, I know you've already seen this, but I wrote a bit about TC and some of my favorite passages of it in last year’s fandom reread.

And thanks for the ask, as always!

[short-black-diamond]

I saw your 300 follower event and i have been obsessed with your marionetta fics!!

So i was thinking the “flowers?” And enemies to lovers prompt with Sahed x reader

YESSS, FINALLY, also teehee~ thank you for reading my fics!

Please also check out my other posts as well, especially about the webtoon the tomato can, or the greatest estate developer!

You can also request blue lock stuff, or read the webtoon "Ranker", it's new, but it's pretty cool! Sorry but I just love it all...

Warnings: FLUFF i guess?? but also ANGST, lot's of angst (in my opinion), and SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS, also Wingwoman Rainah again because I love that girl, also Sahed calls you milady ;]

word count: 2.4 k

also I will proofread this some other time, so if there are grammar errors, please ignorrrrrreeee

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"My favourite type of flower..."

You couldn't believe it... Really, this time, Sahed had gone too far! Your favourite dress, which was a sweet pastel pink, just happened to have come together with some of Sahed's dark clothes...and now, your poor dress had black stains all over! (pls imagine it somehow happened)

You gritted your teeth when you heard Sahed's cackle. "Aww~ did our clothes get mixed again, ____? That's toooooooo baaaaad!"

"Argh, you're enjoying this too much, Sahed!", you exclaimed angrily, and tick marks were starting to form on your temple. You sighed then, your anger subsiding into pure dissappointment.

"It was you, wasn't it?", you asked, looking at Sahed with an expression you'd only give your mortal enemy. And, well...Sahed and you were somehow enemies.

"Whaaaaaat? Milady, I have no idea what you're talking about.", the A'hkon's response was heard before he dissappeared out of the window from the washing room.

God, you hated his guts.

...

Your relationship with Sahed was...well, how do I say...? How- how about we just start with the beginning? Yes, let's look into that first.

You actually arrived at the circus before him, to be honest, and you were one of the view who actually tried to smile despite the glum atmosphere. that's when the A'hkon siblings, Rainah and Sahed, stepped foot into the place, and you tried welcoming them with your best manners, only for your efforts to land in the dirt when Rainah only looked at you with a frown, a dead, maybe annoyed? expression, and Sahed had a similar reaction.

Then, as the place turned into a circus with the help of Dotty and Bob (I dunno the backstory that well anymore help), you did your best to be of aid. You were even surprised with yourself how far your patience had brought you, from turning everyone's bad day into a good one when you sang to them with your wonderful voice, or told them the most extraordinary tales from your books. You made friends with Rainah, and you were proud to have her as a friend, because after she opened up to you, you two practically got inseperable, sharing many interests.

However, Sahed was a whole other story. Maybe it was your naivity that made you think that Sahed would stop bothering you with his pranks. Maybe it was your heart that told you to hold on juuuust a little longer when he loved tempting your nerves for them to become thin threads which could tear upon the slightest contact or breeze of wind.

But, as much as you tried to be nice to him, helping him and even cleaning up after him, you had enough one day. You couldn't be nice to everyone, as much as you tried. But that only spurred on Sahed's hunger for trouble with you more.

See, Sahed was actually a simple boy. Behind that facade of being all charming, having that nice hair, and those pretty eyes, he was actually head over heels for you. How could he not? When he first laid eyes on you, who opened the door to them on a rainy day -the day they joined the circus/place- he was greeted with a worried smile, a warm soup, some fresh clothes, and a soothing voice.

He wasn't yelled at, pushed at, cursed at, or even looked at weirdly. When he laid eyes on you, and examined your reaction carefully upon seeing his three eyes, he never saw even a milligramm of fear, or disgust...he only saw...warmth, and understanding.

And at first, he couldn't even comprehend his own feelings when you asked him if he'd like to have another room, or a different set of clothing. you just looked so ...carefree. I mean, of course you cared, but you were just so different from all the other people that Sahed and his sister have encountered.

So many, too many.

And Sahed...he was frightened. He couldn't be sure if you were only putting on an act around him. He had patience, patience to see your happy-go-lucky-mask fall and see your real reason, your ulterior motive--but he couldn't.

How could he?

How could he have the audacity to even doubt you?

How dare he even, when you've been nothing but nice to him? Even sweeter to his sister, who became best friends with you in the span of a year?

When he saw how you were nice to everyone, how much effort you put for everyone to have a good time, to just--be happy, and at peace?

And even though he'd never admit it, he was kind of envious and jealous of the attention all the other newcomers received when you greeted them the same way you greeted him and Rainah.

And, well, since he was head over heels for you, and a stubborn young man, he just...thought that teasing you would be the answer.

The answer for these stupid feelings to dissappear. Because why?

...would you ever even look at him in that light?

In a ...more-than-lovers way?

...in a romantic way?

.....

.....

.....

....

....

....

...

...

...

..

..

..

.

.

.

No.

You wouldn't.

And he was sure everyone would think of him as the biggest fool to think so. Except, Rainah. Well, she always scolded him for pulling pranks on you. rainah felt pity towards you, and wanted for you and Sahed to be together, or at least go on a date, or at least -the very least- have a normal chat.

...

"Rainah, please remind me again as to why I should accompany your disgrace of a brother towards a flower field? And now of all times?", you asked in the midst of bringing the other A'hkons in safety form the officers.

Rainah just pushed the last one into a nearby circus wagon before she turned around with a smile. She had a bead of sweat and you held her still to wipe it away. "Ah, come on-", she said, about to pull her head back, but you were insistent. "nuh-uh, you need to stay clean, love-", you said as you gently padded away the drops. Then you fixed her hair.

"...I bet the people are jealous of you A'hkons. You have the prettiest three eyes I've ever seen, to be honest.", you complimented her, when you formed and bent her bangs in a way for her precious third eye to go unnoticed, all done with a sad frown on your face.

rainah stood there as she took in your words. "Thank you...it feels good when you remind me. And about the field..Sahed had a plan where the flowers play an important role.", she muttered, and a small blush creeped over her cheeks.

Except Sahed, nobody had actually ever really complimented her on her beauty, let alone her third eye. But, you were the first human being who didn't get scared, if anything, you whined in envy at her.

...

"Awhh, I wish I had three eyes as well! Do you know how many dresses I could accentuate- *gasp*! Rainah, you wear them!", you exclaimed excitedly when you quickly led her to your room one sunny day.

You two were actually about to have breakfast, and just so happened to stumble into the topic of clothes on your way there. But, you two had more important things than stilling your morning hunger, and that was for Rainah to try on the dresses and blouses and skirts you were mentioning.

They all fit her perfectly, and as you predicted, they were harmonizing with rainah's third eye like a glove. That day, you gifted half your wardrobe to her.

Rainah honestly couldn't have asked for a better friend than you.

She was glad that her pleas of help were heard.

...

"Jeez, then tell me where the field is? And will you, Julia and Anthonn be alright?", you asked one last time before Rainah hastily pushed you into a certain direction. "yes, yes, now go, quick!"

And so you ran. It was a wonder, what happened to you after your death. oh yeah, would you like to know how you died?

you were accused of being a witch by your volk, and got pushed into a pit, which was filled with spiders. And now, you somehow had the power to shoot webs from your wrists, and your stage name became:

Lady Arachnea.

Now, you started running and then you jumped. Shooting out silver-chain like webs, which stuck to the walls of the houses, you swung around the streets and nooks of the city, looking for that flower field.

'Just where might it be...? And what has Sahed in mind this time??', you asked yourself as you stealthily snuck around and ran alongside the walls, as your feet could stick to a vertical ground as well. With that, you could easily avoid the running officers.

And soon enough, when you swung really high, and came to a short stop in mid-air, you asw his hair. In the middle of a field with flowers.

But they weren't just any flowers of any kind.

They were all Jade Vines, Chocolate Cosmos and Middlemist's Reds.

Your favourite three types of flowers.

You came to a stop, with Sahed catching you in the right moment. You were too stunned by the amount of the rarest flowers, too stunned to even notice how Sahed's hands didn't leave your waist, and as you reached out to touch the delicate petals of the pink flower Middlemist's red, Sahed smiled.

He couldn't help it! You were just too cute not to gush over!

"Do you like it?", he softly asked as he leant down to your ear, his breath tingling the chell of your ear.

You flinched. "W-what..?!", you asked, still startled by the gesture. "Ah, sorry...I was just...distracted by the view...", you trailed off as you saw the colorful picture which got alluminated by the moonshine.

"How is this possible? Last time I checked here, there weren't these rarities, not even a single jade vine by the best garteners-"

"I-I did!", he said suddenly, unterrupting your speech. You turned around to face him with a frown. "What?"

When you turned around, and your eyes searching his, Sahed grew nervous and looked to the side, cheeks warming up. "..I did...", he murmured, and stroked your waist absentmindedly.

You blushed at the contact, and moreso by the fact that Sahed could actually do something like that with his magic. "...but--why?", you then asked, still puzzled by his actions.

"How is this going to help us bringing the A'hkons to safe-"

"Please, ____!", he interrupted again, nearly yelling, and startling you again as he pulled you closer to him, his eyes widening. "..please...just...enjoy the moment...I did it for you...", he murmured, his three eyes looking at your two pretty orbs.

"Flowers? ...For me?", your question came quietly, but Sahed still heard it. He nodded a little, his eyes focused on your lips now.

"Yes, y-you sometimes said that you liked these type of flowers...so--I g-got them for you...", he stuttered, searching for your reaction again.

Sahed didn't know why he did that, but he loved seeing you react. Whether it was putting a mouse into your room and you screaming in fear, him eating the last cupcake which was actually promised to you, or, just recently, your pretty pink dress.

"Huh, and here I thought you just didn't like me...", you murmured, as you looked into his third eye, which glowed as the moonlicht lit up Sahed's face. You two stood in the middle of the field, Sahed still held your waist, and you couldn't help but blush.

"I'm just a stupid man, ____, and you have made me fall for you.", he murmured gently. He took a little step closer, just for your chest to nearly touch his, for his arms to hold you closer, and you gently placed your arms on his biceps.

"Really..? And all this time you just had to tease me? pull pranks on me?", you mumbled as you saw your favourite type of flower in the colour of Sahed's eyes.

he huffed playfully. "Anybody in their right mind would do that! And how could I not? Your reactions are far too cute to stop..."

You chuckled softly at his answer before you looked into his face with a smile. "you know...amongst the three types of flowers, there is one that I absolutely adore..", you whispered.

It was a wonder that nobody noticed two people standing in the middle of a flowerfield (you and Sahed) and that you guys didn't have a segnal to get back. Right now, it was just...you two, ant the moonlight, and a few sweet breezes of wind.

"And...which one is it...?", Sahed inquired. He'd have expected for you to say "Middlemist's Red, because of the sweet pink colour!" or "Chocolate Cosmo, because of the name and the flower itself!".

Never did he think you'd say the banana-shaped Jade vine.

"Huh?", he only asked, looking at you with a raised brow. You giggled.

"Because they remind me of the colour of your eyes. A glowing blue, always somewhere, looking at me.""

Sahed blushed furiously. "Ah- y-you saw me looking at you?"

"You mean, staring? One too many times."

Sahed slumped his shoulders. "S-sorry..."

You sighed. "Thank you for the sight, Sahed. But I think it'd be best if we go back-", you couldn't finish your sentence becouse Sahed just kept looking at you.

"Uh, Sahed..?"

"C-can I...kiss you?", he breathed, as he looked at you with a frown.

You flinched. "...What?"

Sahed groaned. "Can I kiss you...?!", he gritted, as if it took everything in his willpower to not groan again. His heart was already doing saltos from the confession you said earlier.

You pondered for a moment. Then you took his face in your hands, and stroked his cheeks just underneath his eyes. "hmm, and why should I allow that..?"

sahed closed his eyes and leaned closer to your touch, as he hugged you closer to his chest. "mm...won't pull anymore pranks on you, sweetheart...", he murmured, and he was content with life. Even if you were to say no, he'd still be happy-

"Promise?", you asked, as your face was nearing his, but since Sahed had his eyes closed, he didn't see you inching closer.

"promise-mmpf!", Sahed eyes widened comically when he felt your soft lips on his. his hands shook when you parted and pecked his mouth again with your own.

You just kept kissing him some more, your hands tangling in his hair. After some time, you parted, and saw Sahed chasing your lips eagerly, but you üut a finger on his lips from doing so.

"I...think it's time we head back.", you whispered, and sahed looked at you with his wide eyes as he nodded dreamily. His face contorted into a dorky grin when he hugged you, and you shot out a web to help the others.

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Y'ALL I JUST READ CH 34 OF MARIONETTA, AND WHY IS SAHED SO BABYGIRL, ALSO JULIA BEING REASONABLE IS COOL, I HOPE JATHAR MAKES A PACT!!!

Also..Jathar looks handsome as well, so if you guys have requests about him, feel free to ask!

Read you in the next post!