#which is maybe the best way i've heard practice makes perfect. all this to say i should post it and hand up a newer poem

[qulizalfos]

fighting demons all day . should i post this poem.

[vinxhwrites]

I've had this idea in my drafts for a long time and only finished it today because I was procrastinating on the many many assignments I have for this week. I've never written smut before so I don't know what I'm doing, also I'm very sleepy so maybe it sucks, but here it is:

ghost x f!reader x soap

nsfw, +18

word count: 8.2k

cw: nsfw! lots of fluff, tiniest bit of h/c, smut in the end, unprotected sex (don't do it!); alcohol consumption, quite long descriptions of anxieties I guess; also not proofread, sorry

You enjoyed existing in the liminal space between something romantic and something purely friendly. You wanted to get to know every aspect of love, feel it from all directions, in all its forms.

You always wondered what exactly was the tipping point to make one thing turn into another. You wondered if it even existed, if experience could ever be restrained to one set type of relationship, if love could be divided into sections, named and labeled, put into existence and then put to death once things ended, instead of just being the overflowing unconditional force that you hoped it was.

In reality, of course, love can't be limited or restrained by words that aim to define, control or organize it. In practice, you've found it within yourself as something stronger, more nuanced, and freeing than you could've ever hoped it would be.

Ghost first heard Soap refer to you as his "nap buddy" over breakfast one day. He frowned, the first thought to cross his mind being whether the two of you were skipping work to take naps. But Soap went on, telling Gaz about how he'd been creeping into your bed at night when he couldn't sleep. "I feel like a baby, I swear" Ghost overheard him say "she'll just tell me stories until I fall asleep."

It all had started almost two months prior to that conversation, when you bumped into Soap in the corridor one night. You were both sleepy but suffering from insomnia. He shared little tips with you on what usually helped him: walking around, counting sheep, breath exercises; although he admitted this time none of it was working.

You explained your problem was the crippling anxiety that came with the insomnia sessions. You hated being alone with your thoughts during the dark moments of the night, which filled you with unreasonable angst.

You two walked around outside for a while. It was a cold night and you both started to shiver a bit. Soap rubbed his hand on your back in an attempt to warm you, but you concluded it was best to go back to your rooms. Then, as you approached your door, right beside his, you had an idea:

"Hey, I hope this doesn't sound too weird...but would you like to try to sleep with me?"

He smiled at you and accepted the invite.

At that moment, you navigated the perfect moment of sleepiness when rational thoughts can barely form, all that is left are the primary ideas, informed only by your senses and memories. The anxious voices of decent social conduct are far too tired to interject with your thoughts at this point. Anything can seem appropriate, nothing feels real and there is true bliss to be found somewhere.

That's why it felt so natural to curl up in bed with Soap that night, you rested your head on his shoulder and he held your hand. He caressed your hair before saying something nice about the way you smelled and closed his eyes. You surely talked for a bit, in whispers, but neither of you would be able to recall what the conversation was about if someone asked. And just like that, both of you were able to fall asleep in a few minutes of comfort.

It quickly developed into a habit for difficult nights, you now depended on these moments as if they were some kind of medicine. It surely didn't make the issue go away completely for either of you, but it sure was nice to find some comfort in each other's company. Having someone to talk to was a good distraction from your racing thoughts, it was easier to relax when you were with him. Plus, he didn't seem to mind how you jumped effortlessly from one topic to another, talking about anything that came to mind.

Soon, Soap started looking for you even before trying to fall asleep by himself, "preventive care" he explained with a smile when you'd open the door relatively early at night, looking a bit puzzled. You got into the habit of telling him stories, real and made-up, creating nice scenarios for his dreams.

You've let him kiss you a few times, but it never really went much further than that, even though it was no secret that he liked you as a bit more than a friend.

Part of the reason for your contentment with kisses was that both of you were almost always too tired to invest in more than that, but part of it was because of your resistance to changing your relationship dynamic. What you had built with him felt so stable in its tenderness that you were scared to risk losing it.

You've always felt, previously in life, that sex complicated things. Especially with men, especially when you thought they were your friends first, to later be heartbroken by the fact that they really just wanted to fuck you, and had no love to give. You really wished it would be different with him.

But Soap was well-versed in love, he wasn't scared of it. He fully embraced it, actually. Sometimes, while you played with your fingers through his hair, he'd make a point of telling you about his love, the depths of it, how much he could give you of it if you'd let him.

"But it's perfect like this" you cried, anytime he brought up the topic of sex, fearing the inevitable low after the high. Yet, to him sex was irremovable from love, it was the best way he knew how to demonstrate it.

He once told you that you made him feel like a teenager again, saying you were like his prudish high school girlfriend.

The furthest you've gone at this point was letting him finger you one night, just because he begged and whined so much. "I need to feel you" he said, out of breath from kissing you, and you just couldn't resist. It wasn't like you didn't desire him, you were scared doing it would make you want him more. And it did.

He licked his own fingers afterward, which made a moan escape from your mouth. He kissed you again before resting his head on your shoulder. Didn't ask for anything in return. Soap was a lover by definition. And the fact that he respected your boundaries made you treasure him even more.

"You know you can sleep with other people, right?" you assured him, afraid that he'd resent you if you kept him waiting.

"Yeah, but it's not the same thing" he replied.

You were on a first-name basis now, you called him Johnny and, when the two of you were alone, he called you "baby", even letting it slip in front of other people sometimes.

Ghost reprehended you for it one day when he heard it. Not Johnny, you. It was inadequate, he said, and made you apologize to him.

You thought Ghost was scary. It was in a similar manner to which you used to think your linguistics professor at University was scary: in a hot, sexy but very menacing way. You desired his approval and had the impression that you were never going to get it. His mere presence made your legs weak. Maybe it was the authority aspect that messed with your mind, or at least that's what you tried to justify to yourself.

He intimidated you more than anyone, constantly making you feel inadequate just by looking at you. It felt unfair to not even be able to see him properly most of the time, it made you feel naked in every interaction when he could see you so clearly. And on top of that, there was the constant staring: You were always under his watch if he was around as if he was constantly waiting for you to do something wrong. Plus, he seemed to be way more critical of you than he was of others, always questioning you or anything you did, and complaining about your skills or your lack of punctuality (even if you were late by just a minute).

"I think he hates me," you told Johnny one day. "I really do".

He chuckled in response. "He doesn't hate you. He's just really bad at expressing...anything"

"I think he's really good at expressing his hatred for me" you whined back "He doesn't treat you as badly".

"Well, baby, but you can't compete with me!" he smirked proudly "He loves me".

The truth is Ghost loved hearing you say "I'm sorry, sir" in a soft and exhausted voice, it tickled something inside him that he couldn't quite name. It was equally exciting and disturbing to him. But you didn't know that, which is why it caught you by surprise when he showed up at your door one night, as you were about to fall asleep.

Ghost wasn't one to sleep together, not even with the random people he had sex with on occasion. Sleep had always been a solitary activity to him, something he struggled with by himself.

The idea of having someone to sleep with, of it being such a comfort hadn't left his mind ever since he heard John talking about it at the table weeks before. He started to catch himself fantasizing about it, thinking about the warmth of having someone's body so close to him, if it'd be something to shield him from his nightmares. He started to wonder about how soft your skin must feel.

It was a foreign feeling to him, this yearning for something so intimate, but it got to a point where he just had to try it.

"Ghost?" you were confused. He wore sweatpants and a long-sleeved grey t-shirt, and still had a black balaclava on. He closed the door behind him.

"Johnny said you let him sleep with you sometimes" he cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable.

"Right" you responded, waiting for him to scold you for it. But he just stood there in silence "Would you like to sleep here too...?" you guessed amused after he let the silence hang for a bit too long.

He took a deep breath, "May I?" he asked.

"Sure, come here." you moved closer to the wall to make space for him. You couldn't help but smile as you felt him sit down on your bed, the heat coming from his body already making you want to get closer.

"You know I don't have sex with him, right?"

"I didn't come here for sex" he answered immediately, sounding almost offended, then sighed "I can't sleep''.

"OK" you said, already regretting having opened your mouth in the first place.

He laid down on his back beside you exhausted and took a deep breath. He removed his balaclava and put it on your nightstand. You noticed you were holding your breath, terrified of ruining this moment of intimacy.

"You'd better not snore" he said in a low voice, adjusting himself on your pillow with a hand behind his head and the other on his chest.

You chuckled a bit, letting yourself relax by his side. "I don't snore." you assured him "at least, not that I know of".

Ghost didn't answer you this time, and even in the dark you could see he had closed his eyes.

"Permission to touch you, sir?" you asked in a whisper after a few seconds of collecting your courage, craving to feel his skin.

That first night, he let you hold his hand while you two slept. It felt tiny and fragile on his. When he woke up sweating in the middle of the night, as he often did, his heart rate eased when he felt your presence by his side, it did feel different.

He avoided you like the plague for three days straight after that night, you thought he'd never look at you again. You thought you've done something wrong and scared him away. In reality, he was scared he'd poisoned himself by getting a taste of something so novel to him, and feared he'd become addicted to it.

He tried to go back to his regular routine, but now the emptiness of his bedroom felt even more evident, his bed felt colder. Then, when you were starting to become at peace with the anxiety that had built up in your stomach at this point, he showed up at your door again.

This time he didn't say anything after you agreed to let him in, feeling absolutely defeated. He laid on his side, his back turned to you. You asked if you could touch him once more and when he agreed you threw your arm around his torso, cuddling him. He felt a goosebump as your breath touched his back.

And he wouldn't tell you, but when he woke up he couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a good night of sleep.

You told Johnny about it the next day as casually as possible, fearing to find a trace of jealousy in his eyes. But instead, they seemed to brighten with delight. "See, I told you he didn't hate you" he smiled.

For the next few weeks, your lieutenant started being kinder to you, albeit in his own way. He stopped reprehending you for stupid reasons, gave you a little pat on the back when you did well during training, and even made you a cup of tea once when he heard Gaz comment that you had a cold one day, putting it in front of you at the table and walking away without saying a word.

You discovered him to be someone more playful than you previously imagined, witty even. The affection you had for him grew stronger with each passing day, as your impression of him morphed into something new, and you just couldn't keep it to yourself. But, unlike Johnny, who loved being touched, Ghost had serious boundaries. Most times you could tell you'd overstepped. He'd let you know it immediately: removing your hand from his face if you touched it, clearly stating "don't" if you ever dared to try to touch his hair, he'd move his hand away when you started to mindlessly draw circles on it with your fingers, and - the only aspect that didn't make you feel completely rejected - pushing you away slightly in bed if you ever got close enough to feel the solid volume in his pants.

For him, physical touch tended to be a utilitarian exchange: maybe he'd get a pat on the shoulder for doing a good job, he'd get kisses and caresses when someone used him for sex, he'd get injured during combat, but your touch was something new: it made no practical sense, there was no transaction to be made, no endpoint, it was just affection for the sake of affection. He didn't know what to do with it.

As your intimacy deepened, Ghost revealed to you that suffered from terrible migraines every once in a while and got into the habit of coming to sleep with you on those days, although he did complain every single time that your constant rambling on different topics made his head hurt even more. He'd retract the statement as soon as you stopped talking though.

One day, when he was in a particularly terrible mood, you offered him a massage. "What good will that do, huh?" he grunted "You just want to touch me"

You chuckled "well, that is partially true, sir" and he smiled behind his balaclava. But you insisted, proceeding to explain how the tension on his neck muscles could be causing the headaches, or at least making them worse, and that was enough to convince him to let you do it.

"It doesn't work if you don't try to relax" you said, pressing your fingers to the base of his neck. You were sitting on the bed, back rested on your pillow, with him between your legs, his back turned to you.

"I'm trying" he mumbled.

"Come on, deep breaths," you said, and you knew immediately that he was probably rolling his eyes. "Come on" you insisted patiently, massaging just the right spot on the back of his shoulders as he let out a low moan, letting his head rest forward.

"See, isn't it better?" you said enthusiastically.

"Stop talking" he grunted, which you did, continuing to massage him in silence.

It took you by surprise when you felt his thumb lightly caress your right ankle, it was a timid touch, and you felt afraid he would stop if you moved, even though that leg felt a bit numb already.

You could feel his body melt under your touch bit by bit, letting more of his weight rest on you. He forgot about his headache, only focused on the delicious slumber that took over his body now.

"You're gonna have to do this every day now" he muttered, eyes closed.

"I'll gladly do it" you assured him, treasuring the way he seemed so relaxed now. You had to fight the urge to put a kiss on his neck with all your might.

That night he held you like a pillow, resting his head on your stomach. You slowly pulled his mask up, waiting to see if there'd be any resistance, but there wasn't.

He shivered when you then touched his hair. It felt soft. You scratched his head gently with your nails and he savoured the foreign feeling that it caused.

"You little demon" he whispered, surrendering completely to your touch.

Ghost knew what love was supposed to look like. He just wasn't that sure about how it felt to receive it anymore. The more he thought about it, the more he was under the impression that he lacked the vocabulary to express it.

Once, when working in complete silence next to him, filling and writing reports, you asked:

"Can you take a look at this, sir?" you held the paper in front of him.

"You know you can call me Simon" he said, eyes still fixed on his papers.

"I didn't actually." you said and he looked at you, you could notice a quick smile appear on his eyes.

"Ok, now you know."

You smiled and he moved his gaze back to the papers in front of him.

"Can you take a look at this, Simon?" you repeated, and this time he looked up and happily took the paper from your hand.

Simon had never really tried anything besides actual sleep with you, and you were terrified of initiating it yourself and getting rejected. But sometimes you could feel the imminence of something, nothing clear or distinct, just the way the silence of the room felt different, a change in the pace of his breathing or a slight shift in the atmosphere. On these moments you'd feel like he could turn you over and fuck you at any second. It fed the anticipation in your chest, but it never happened.

You wondered, at times, if you were somehow able to read his thoughts in cryptic ways and that's how you'd know he was thinking about fucking you.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked in a whisper one of these nights.

"Why do you care?" his response was immediate, defensive. Your fantasies definitely weren't supported by his lack of attention to your romantic attempts.

"Just wondering" you shrugged. "Are you not going to tell me?"

He looked at you, and even in the dark you could tell he was smiling "No".

You prayed that he would kiss you, just a little bit would be enough. But, of course, he didn't.

"I was thinking about you, in case you were wondering," you said casually a few moments later, gazing at his face. You were getting sloppier with hiding your feelings for him, he couldn't possibly not see it.

He chuckled quietly at your response, "Stop flirting with me" he said and you felt your cheeks turn red, "you should get some sleep" he suggested then, shutting off the conversation. And, as if he intended to get you a bit more confused, he lightly caressed your hair.

Sometimes you'd wish he'd just reject you once and for all so you could move on. But the more you thought about your love the more you wanted to cultivate it and share it with him, the same way you felt you could share with Johnny. And if Simon didn't want it, so be it. It felt like, and it was, a big act of bravery on your part. At least you'd be able to comfort yourself on the fact that you loved, it grew and flourished inside you, and it was a beautiful thing.

It got to the point where one of them was occupying your bed almost every day of the week, people were starting to catch on to it. You knew the day would come when they'd both show up and the thought alone made you nauseous, at least until it actually happened.

You held your breath when you heard Johnny's steps approaching your door, even before he knocked on it.

"Come in" Simon said before you could even react.

Johnny tilted his head for a second, looking amused at the scene of his lieutenant cuddling you. He closed the door behind him and took off his slippers, then he approached your bed to lay down beside you.

You held your breath when you saw Johnny rest his neck on Simon's extended arm so nonchalantly. Simon didn't move his arm. You couldn't exactly name what is it that you feared at that moment, the next few moments of silence translated into nervousness within you. Johnny took your arm and casually put your hand on his chest.

"So," he said, looking at Simon playfully "Are you trying to steal her from me?"

Simon chuckled "Didn't know she was yours to steal".

The tension you felt was not shared between them.

"You could've come to sleep with me, lieutenant," Johnny said, he sounded almost offended that Simon would have preferred to sleep with you.

"Back at you, Johnny" he murmured, closing his eyes, making Johnny smile from ear to ear.

You knew your bed surely wasn't made for three, but you managed to make it comfortable. You woke up lying on top of Johnny like a baby, your chest to his, while Simon laid on his side with one arm thrown around you.

That night, Johnny could almost feel his heart flutter and twirl inside his chest. It was perfect. He had so much love to give, he couldn't wait to share it. To him, Love was generous and ever-giving, it was infinite, it overpowered him and he gladly let it.

To Simon, on the other hand, Love was a terrifying force he feared would take over him completely if he let it. He feared it could destroy him, or, even worse, he would destroy it. But, at moments like this one, he couldn't help but let love overflow in his heart, couldn't resist the warmth both of you shared from entering his own body.

Throughout the whole following day, you felt a sweet anticipation for something in your stomach, being only able to think about how nice it had felt to be surrounded by both of them. How you wished you could stay in that state forever, unmoved.

At night, Johnny curled up in bed with you, resting his head on your chest after a tiring day. He seemed almost disappointed to find you alone when he came in, he smiled while he kissed you nonetheless.

He inundated you with questions that gradually turned into whines: did you sleep with him? what do you mean you don't even kiss? what are you doing? don't you find him attractive? why don't you just ask him? do you think we should go after him? why not? let's knock on his door! why not?!

You were able to dissuade him from these impulsive thoughts eventually, stroking your fingers through his hair and recommending that he do the same as you and try to stop thinking about it. It was for the best, you assured him, trying to convince yourself of it, too. He yielded at last, but he wasn't pleased.

"Do you even want me?" he asked with a sigh

"Of course I do." you replied, almost offended at the question "You know I do."

"Doesn't feel like it sometimes" he muttered.

You took a deep breath before taking him through your typical monologue, practically memorized at this point, on your reasons for keeping things as they were - no sex - would be better. The more you talked, the less you found yourself believing in your own words. Still, you tried to make him care for the utter shape of your relationship as it was, in an eternal transient state of a romantic friendship that never lost itself. "That sounds terrible, bonnie" he said, but you insisted he just didn't understand.

"I'm sensitive, Johnny." you tried to explain yourself "I can't stand the thought of ruining what we have."

"Seems like you can't stand the thought of improving them" he sighed.

You knew he had been sleeping with other people, and the thought soothed you more than anything. He never lied to you about it when you asked, and it was comforting to see his heart still belonged to you. You tried to imagine yourself as something separate entirely.

He traced his fingers down to your waist, then hips, and back to your shoulders, letting his hand linger on your breast.

"Don't you want it, baby? Not even a little bit?"

"I do, Johnny" you admitted, not immune to the desire that kept itself alive inside you.

"Haven't you been dreaming about it...?" he continued, his voice lower than before as his fingers played with your hair "Huh? You, me and Simon?"

Your eyes widened at his words, even though you had, in fact, been thinking about it constantly ever since the first night that Simon slept with you.

"That would be a mess" you murmured, telling him what you kept telling yourself.

Johnny chuckled, "a hot, delicious fucking mess?" he suggested.

"Just a regular mess" you lied.

"Just think about it, alright?" he eventually said, resting his head back on your chest.

"Okay." you promised before turning off the light on your nightstand..

"I love you, baby. Truly." he whispered in the dark "There's nothing for you to be afraid of."

"I love you too, Johnny"

Part of you knew it was a silly decision to insist on depriving yourself of pleasure, things were already messy enough. There was no saving any naivety of a friendship that hadn't been merely a friendship from the start, and refusing to admit that you did, in fact, have physical desires toward them was, perhaps, just making things worse. You made a mental note to search for a therapist when you got back home, perhaps dig into whatever religious guilt you seemed to have inherited to drive your decisions.

Nevertheless, you were able to remain firm in your decision. At least until two days later, when everyone went out for drinks at night after a long day.

The sky was dark grey when you left the base to go to the bar. The space was crowded, but comfortable. You knew almost everyone there and quickly settled with some friends.

After one and a half beers Johnny was already getting touchy with you by the counter.

"Have you thought about what I said?"

You nodded and he got closer to you, hands on your waist, "And will you let me make love to you?" he asked softly in your ear.

"Maybe I will" you confessed, already feeling a bit tipsy.

"Come on, bonnie" he insisted, hands on your waist "You know I've been dying to fuck you."

You felt as if your legs would melt right then and there. And, even with your back turned to him, you felt Simon's oppressive stare on you. You turned to find him across the bar.

You both looked at him, sitting at the table next to Price, who seemed to be talking to him, even though his attention laid somewhere else. His hair was covered by a black hoodie, but he didn't cover his face. He grinned at you playfully, taking a sip of the cold beer in his hand.

Johnny followed your gaze and smirked at Simon, then looked back at you with a devilish smile. "I'm gonna get Ghost to come with me" he said and you froze in place.

"I don't think that's a good idea," you plead, already feeling the palms of your hands sweat. What is it exactly that you feared? You didn't really know. It felt childish to be this scared of your own desires.

"I think he's into it" Johnny said, winking at you.

"I don't think so." you grew a bit nervous "I don't think he wants me like that"

Johnny just chuckled in response. "Sure" he said sarcastically. "I can't believe you think that's possible, baby".

You looked around the room nervously, the idea made your stomach turn.

"Tell me you don't want it." he said, suddenly looking at you with a serious expression "Just tell me you don't want it and I won't say anything to him. I'll drop it."

But you couldn't say anything, which made him smile before taking another sip of his beer. Johnny pecked a kiss on your cheek, before leaving you to sit at the table beside Simon.

Although you couldn't pinpoint what exactly caused you so much anxiety, you did notice that it mixed into a twisted excitement.

You watched as they interacted with each other, leaning closer to talk, smiling, and laughing lightly. They looked so pretty you couldn't believe such a dreamy scenario would become a reality to you. Johnny touched Simon's arm and whispered something to him, he grinned and looked at you.

You tried to pretend you hadn't been staring at him the whole time, suddenly feeling a lot of interest in the bottle in your hand and then the conversation that took place between the colleagues beside you.

You tried to distract yourself the rest of the night, interacting with other people and trying your best to focus on different subjects, other people's lives and problems, it was very hard considering that yours seemed to be about to become so much more exciting than anything your friends had been up to.

Johnny didn't seem to want to leave Simon's side anymore, they were engaged in conversation with Price and Gaz at the table on the corner of the bar for what felt like hours to you.

It was pouring rain outside by the time you gave yourself a little tipsy pep talk in the dirty restroom mirror. You told yourself you looked attractive enough, beautiful even. Nothing to worry about.

When you came back, you were so immersed in your own thoughts that you didn't even notice when Simon sat on the barstool beside you.

"What are you thinking about?" you heard his low voice behind you.

You turned around to look at him, feeling blood rush to your cheeks "Didn't see you there"

"Are you not going to tell me?" he repeated your words from the other night with a playful smirk, to which you frowned. He leaned a little closer to you to whisper in a high-pitched voice "I'm thinking about you".

"I don't sound like that"

"Yes, you do" he chuckled.

You took a deep breath before answering, echoing his own words back to him: "Well, you should stop flirting with me"

"I don't think you want me to stop" he grinned, and you wished you knew exactly what Johnny had said to him. "Do you?"

"No," you said frankly "no, I don't."

It was almost 2am when Johnny pointed his head to the door, signaling it was time to leave. Simon was already outside, and you were already soaking wet even before you left the covered environment of the bar.

You thought your heart was trying to jump out of your chest when Simon opened his bedroom door later that night, and felt both of the men you loved follow you inside.

You closed your eyes when you felt both of Simon's hands hold you by the shoulders from behind, as he got closer to you "are you OK, love?" he asked against your neck, the softest you've heard him speak, with the remains of alcohol on his breath. He placed a kiss on your shoulder and you rested your head against his chest.

You nodded, your body burning in anticipation. "Will you guys stop if I don't feel well?" you asked, your voice was almost a whisper.

The anxiety about the implications and consequences of this was already set on your chest. Now there was nothing else to do, no escaping the disturbance this would cause to your life. At this point, stopping would be much worse. Your desires had already manifested, they had been spoken, and transformed, there was nothing left to do but give in to it.

The violent rumbles of lightning bolts shook the sky outside, and sudden flashes of light illuminated the room at an unpredictable frequency. Your eyes had adjusted to the dim light of the room, and the darkness felt comforting, providing an atmosphere of otherworldliness to the room, you could almost imagine this scene took place in a different reality and try not to worry about it.

"Of course" Johnny answered and Simon nodded with his face on your neck.

Johnny kissed you first while Simon held you, his familiar lips searching urgently for you in the dark. You had one hand on his neck, while the other held tight to Simon's, afraid to lose his touch. Johnny looked at him with a smile before grabbing you by the waist and turning you around so that you faced Simon.

"What do you want me to do to you?" Simon asked, looking deep into your eyes, his tone was soft, the question genuine.

“Will you please kiss me?” you cried.

He took your hands in his and kissed them, the small sounds of his kisses covering your fingers and wrists. Then, finally, he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. You felt your heart could explode at any second. You cupped his face with both hands and caressed his skin.

The kiss was soft at first, almost hesitant. His tongue was warm and smooth on yours and he tasted like beer and cigarettes.

You heard when Johnny unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants behind you, grabbing and pulling your hips so you could feel the volume in his underwear, you moaned into Simon's mouth.

Johnny left wet kisses on your neck, making you shiver as he pulled up your t-shirt. Simon cupped your breasts in his hands as soon as he saw them, quickly struggling to free them from your bra, peppering kisses on your chest and nipples.

Simon kneeled in front of you and pulled your pants down, helping you remove your shoes along with them, then smiling at you before kissing over your panties.

You rested your head on Johnny's chest and trusted that his strong grip on your waist would be enough to keep you in place because you barely made any effort to stand anymore.

You hummed when Simon's tongue first touched you, drawing small circles around your clit. Johnny groaned in your ear, pressing his hips against yours, he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this horny in his life. His hands danced around your body until, feeling very bold from the alcohol, he moved one of his hands down to stroke Simon's hair.

"tastes so good, doesn't she?' he asked, to which Simon nodded, burying his face deeper between your thighs.

Your mind seemed to finally quiet, you wouldn't be able to form a coherent thought if you tried now. You could feel Simon's desire to devour you.

He slipped a finger inside you, moaning back when you did. He moved his lips back to your clit, sucking it with just enough intensity to make your legs tremble. And, as if he knew, just as you were about to come undone on his touch, Simon stopped, standing up again to kiss you, you whined in protest against his lips, but it was useless.

They exchanged glances and Johnny wet his own lips.

"Let me see you ride him, love" Simon whispered in your ear, eyes fixed to his. And you obeyed.

Johnny quickly removed the rest of his own clothes and lead you to Simon's bed by your hand.

He laid down, but you stood there looking at his body for a moment. He looked so beautiful lying naked in front of you, the low light that came from the window was only enough to highlight the contrast of his features. You couldn't believe you had actually been this stupid to deny yourself from him for so long. You bit your own lip at the sight, his eyes brightened with passion. "Go on" Simon encouraged behind you.

You spread kisses to his chest before sitting on him. You tried to do it slowly, making him roll his eyes back, getting used to the size of it little by little. You both gasped with pleasure when you finally took him in completely.

“You’re so tight, baby” he groaned when you started to move.

You could hear Simon ditching his own clothes somewhere behind you. Then you felt him behind you, one of his big hands gently holding your waist. Simon used his other hand to put one finger in your mouth and you sucked on it, making Johnny audibly moan under you.

You froze immediately when you felt his naked body touch yours, his hardened cock poked the skin of your lower back.

"Relax, I won't do anything you don't want" he assured you in a low voice against your neck. You received wet kisses on your back and shoulders.

Johnny moaned, his fingers tracing your thighs "Feels so good like that" he purred, and you nodded in agreement. He grabbed your hips but Simon quickly slapped his hands away.

Johnny blinked, confused, but then smirked when Simon started to guide your movements by the hips, slowly and gradually changing the speed to fit what you seemed to respond better to. He guided your body on Johnny in a way that made his cock touch you precisely in the right places. You barely had to do any work, so you rested your head on Simon's chest, only opening your eyes to watch Johnny's face under you.

Johnny rubbed his thumb softly on your clit, making very small movements around it. You moved accordingly, enjoying the way the pressure created a response deep within your stomach. You panted on top of him, exhausted but eager to continue, your body guiding you toward release.

The obscene sounds you made were thankfully muffled by the heavy rain outside. You felt your orgasm reach you with the growing rumbles in the sky, which eventually resulted in a violent lightning, not that far from the window. You let your body rest on Simon's chest after the wave of pleasure washed over you.

"You did so good, bonnie" Johnny sat up to kiss your face, and laid back down.

Simon pulled your hips back gently, indicating you should stand on your knees. Intuitively, you positioned yourself so that you could put your lips around Johnny's cock. He closed your eyes when you did.

"Look at her, Johnny" Simon ordered.

He held your hips firmly in place, then pressed into you slowly, savoring how the wet heat between your legs welcomed him.

Johnny had his head resting on one of his arms, his free hand lazily stroking your face as he watched you struggle to fit him in your mouth. He tried his best to be obedient and focus only on you, but his eyes kept looking up curiously, dying to watch Simon's face as he fucked you.

"God, you feel so fucking good" he whimpered before he started moving his hips, filling you completely with every thrust. You could feel his length messing up your insides and you were grateful to have Johnny's cock keeping you silent.

Simon traced his fingers down your spine, around your waist, then back to your neck. He gently stroked your head and grabbed your hair. You thought he'd pull it, but Simon just pressed the back of your head deeper on Johnny's cock, pulling you back when you gagged, then repeating the same movement again and again. Johnny closed his eyes in an effort not to come so soon from the view alone.

You gave up on your own body for a moment, forgot it was yours to control in the first place, letting it be taken by all their movements like one gets taken by the current at sea.

"'m gonna cum if you keep this up" Johnny announced in a low voice, and you weren't sure if he was talking to you or Simon, but the latter let go of his grip on your hair, unsure of what you wanted to do with that information. You kept going on your own now, until you felt Johnny pulse inside your mouth.

He let out a soft moan as he watched you swallow it. His body finally relaxed on the bed and you felt his fingers search your head and caress your hair.

Simon's movements became slower, almost nonexistent, and you anxiously moved your hips against him to alleviate the desire in your core.

"Don't stop" you begged in a small voice, resting your head on Johnny's thigh, but he did stop. Simon gently pulled your hips back and switched your body so that you were facing him.

"Lay down" he instructed, "I wanna see you".

Johnny's arms guided you to lay on top of him, your back to his chest. He kissed and caressed your head lazily while Simon spread your legs, sinking into you with a grunt.

You moaned loudly when you felt him entirely inside you again.

“Shh!” both of them reprehended you, and Johnny quickly covered your mouth with his hand.

"You wanted him to fuck you like this, huh?" he asked close to your ear and you nodded, unable to speak anything other than little moans that were muffled by his palm. Simon looked at you directly in the eyes, his face subtly contorting in pleasure with every little sound you made.

He pushed into you slowly, delighting himself in the warmth of having you wrapped around him. He tried to memorize the feeling of having your skin against his so he could dwell on it later.

Johnny uncovered your mouth to kiss you, moving his hand to hold you at your waist. The familiar feel of his tongue was both comforting and exciting, your lips searched for his with noticeable hunger. You didn't think you could possibly get more aroused at this point.

You rested your head on Johnny's shoulder, closing your eyes and feeling your body relax now that you've gotten more used to Simon's size inside you.

"Eyes open, love" Simon demanded, and you obeyed.

He kept his gaze on your eyes until he couldn't resist moving on to Johnny's anymore. They looked at each other for what felt like too long, Simon's thrusts into you got more intense, and it made you wonder if you were simply the vessel through which they fucked each other at that instant.

Johnny, who had his hands wandering around your body, now moved them from your breasts to caress Simon's chest on top of you, at first in shy quasi-accidental strokes, and then shamelessly grabbing at his waist, scratching nails on his back once he got a positive reaction.

He pressed his hand against the lower part of your stomach, right where you could feel Simon's cock attempting to tear you open with every thrust, you moaned into Simon's mouth as you felt Johnny getting hard under your body again. Your arousal was dripping down his crotch, his chest already wet from your sweat.

"Hm you're taking him so well, baby" Johnny whispered in your ear and you watched as Simon's eyes darkened at the sound of the words.

You’d lost track of time and sense of space completely. It was so unbelievably indulgent it almost felt wrong, as if you couldn't possibly be allowed to experience this much pleasure all at once in life.

You felt you’d reached some new sense of consciousness in which you did not belong to your body anymore, you've transcended into something else, something in complete harmony with them and their own bodies around you. You were certain for a moment that, if you tried or wanted to, you'd be able to read their minds and communicate without words.

The utter feeling of Love just invaded you in the form of radiating happiness, an epiphany planted in your heart, as if you had been stung by Eros himself and you felt yourself capable of reaching an orgasm without your body. All of a sudden the whole universe seemed to become clear and there were no questions you couldn't answer if you wanted, any doubt you had was gone, and any anxiety dissipated. You almost felt like laughing, relishing - for what was probably the first time - in the wonder of cloudless thoughts.

Simon dropped the support of his hands to his forearms, getting impossibly closer and resting his torso on top of you, the cold and metallic touch of his dog tags against your chest sent a shiver down your spine. Johnny’s hands moved from his waist to your hips, grinding you on top of his hardened cock in search of some relief, which was positioned between your ass cheeks.

You drunkenly intercalated kisses between the two of them, feeling absolutely in control until Simon locked your neck in place with his hand, choking you a little before placing a soft kiss on your lips. “Open” he demanded and you did.

He spit saliva into your mouth and, before you could swallow it, Johnny urgently pulled your face to kiss you, desperately licking your tongue.

"Fuck, Johnny" Simon grunted, digging even deeper into you, attempting to get even closer, making your toes curl. He leaned over and kissed Johnny, and you felt him instantly melt under you. His hands left your body to cup Simon's face.

They moaned into their kisses. You almost felt inadequate being there, as if you weren't supposed to witness that much intimacy, but the thought quickly died down when Simon's lips found yours again, leaving Johnny breathless, and he sealed you back into their little universe.

Your back arched when Johnny moved his fingers to your clit again, you barely needed any stimulation at this point, your legs were tense locked around Simon's hips.

"Come on, baby" Johnny purred in your ear "Let me see you cum all over his cock".

Almost as if on command, you did. The high building up in your lower stomach finally reached its breaking point and crashed into your body in waves of ecstasy. Simon moaned as he felt your entire body pulse and relax under him, he jerked faster into you and then quickly pulled out.

Johnny moved you away from him so that your back rested on the mattress with both of them towering over you, stroking themselves. Simon's eyes rolled back as he came on top of you, a heavy moan leaving his throat as he covered you with the warm gooey liquid that dripped from him.

The sheer sight of it, along with your little moans, was almost enough to get Johnny off immediately, and it only took a few strokes to make him cum again.

You watched them as Simon gently cleaned a bit of his own semen off of Johnny's abdomen with his thumb. He brought the finger close to his face in an offer, and Johnny obediently opened his mouth and sucked it off, receiving a pat on his head and a satisfied smile from his superior afterward.

You laid there exhausted while they cleaned you with tissues, getting little gentle kisses on your skin every once in a while. Simon turned you around on the bed and wiped a soft tissue on your face, removing the remains of mascara you had under your eyes.

It took you a few minutes to eventually get up and use the bathroom, Simon had one all to himself, which meant you didn't have to put your clothes back on.

When you came back, they were both still naked on the bed. Johnny was already asleep, a permanent smile stamped on his face, being only partially covered by the sheets.

"Come here" Simon whispered to you, and you gently climbed over Johnny's body to rest in the space between them.

Johnny sleepily arranged his arms around you, one over your waist and the other under the crease of your neck, his fingers reaching to caress Simon's hair.

Simon kissed your forehead. "This feels nice" he murmured, almost too quietly for you to hear. You looked up to kiss his lips again and rested your head on the pillow, wishing you wouldn't have to get up the next morning.

(now that this is out of my system I can finally move on with my life).

[studentwriterdisaster]

Author Swap!

"Today's lesson - next slide, please - is about how to destroy a world."

I rush to swap out the image underneath the light of the projector. The image of it wasn't very good when I first obtained at at Mistress's request, but after a bit of cleaning and polishing, it looks something close to nice. That is the case for the rest of the room, too; this little makeshift classroom doesn't even look makeshift anymore, not with the chalkboard, desks, and chairs I cobbled together. It looks like it could exist in a proper school, not just as one of many side projects in Mistress's evil lair.

As she instructs the class on the typical, boring methods - nuclear war, bioweapons, climate change, et cetera, - I tune out of the actual lecture content. I don't need to listen because I've heard it all before. I'm set up in the same way I always am: I have Mistress's notes, my own schedule of the slides, and rapt attention directed at the front of the room.

It's difficult not to. All of Mistress's outfits - which I wash, dry, and iron every Thursday - are eye catching, and this is no exception. Her blood red dress, with its high neckline and wide bell sleeves, is easily the brightest thing in the room. It swishes against he floor as she paces in front of the board, instructing the dozen or so prospective henchmen on the ways of evil.

Mistress knows all about evil. She frequently battles with local heroes, thwarting their silly "do good" ways and enacting her own schemes. She doesn't always win, but that's the most evil thing of all: she always rises again.

As she talks, I have to take great care to not be mesmerized by her beauty. I have a presentation to assist with, and though Mistress has never let me apply for the henchman position, I take great pride in being the best personal assistant I can be.

Maybe that's what she wants to see from me. Maybe if I prove myself to be an absolutely indispensable personal assistant, she'll let me go on the front lines to execute her evil schemes instead of staying in the lair all the time. Maybe then I'll finally be her henchman.

Maybe then Mistress will really notice me and how I care for her. In the evillest way possible, of course.

These are the same things I've told myself over the past two years, but I try not to lose hope. Having hope isn't very evil of me, but I don't think I let it show.

As the class progresses, I switch out the slides seamlessly and find myself mouthing the words of the lesson along with Mistress. She has run a lot of these classes. They're a part of her vigorous vetting process for the perfect henchman, along with an obstacle course, an interview, and other components I'm not privy to.

I don't know how effective it's been, as the longest-lasting henchman we've had only lasted a few months before mistress fired her for incompetence - it's always incompetence - but it isn't my place to question. I'm supposed to take care of the laundry, the cooking, the cleaning, the slideshows, and want to be at Mistress's side at any time, in any capacity. I would kill a man to be her henchman.

Hmm. Maybe that would please her.

I idly think about how I would kill someone to please her as I continue to assist with the slides. The rest of the presentation proceeds as smoothly as it always does, and once Mistress dismisses all the prospects, she collapses into the nearest chair and puts her head in her hands.

"Are you alright?" I ask, rushing to her side. "Do you need water? Medicine? Food? I can cook right-"

She holds up a hand to stop me.

I swallow thickly and hope I haven't disappointed her.

"I'm just frustrated with this batch," she says. "I think they might all be busts."

She picks her head up and looks at me intently. I find myself, as I always do, completely enraptured by her face. Her lipstick matches the blood red of her dress, which glows against her brown skin. Her high cheekbones and arched brows make her face regal. Her long dark hair is kept back in a very practical bun.

But what most captivates me are her eyes. They're framed by long lashes, beautiful, and unfathomably deep.

I feel my best when Mistress has her eyes on me.

"You know more about the ways of evil than any of the prospects," she murmurs.

It's true. I know how to maim, kill, torture, kidnap, steal, lie, cheat, concoct, resurrect, and every other evil skill in the book. I've learned everything at Mistress's side.

"You're unflinchingly loyal," she continues, keeping her eyes on me.

I would die for evil, and, more importantly, I would die for Mistress.

"And you've always demonstrated the utmost competence."

I take very great care not to smile. This is it. She's going to finally see me. She will realize that I am the best possible henchman she could ask for, that I have two years' worth of learning at her side under my belt. That there is no better cause, no better purpose in my mind than serving her.

Mistress reaches out, and I steel myself for what might be coming my way. An embrace? A grasp? A kiss?

"I guess that's why you're such a spectacular personal assistant," Mistress says, patting me twice on the head, like a dog. "I need a new batch of candidates. Send the ad into the newspaper again."

Mistress truly is evil. I know this, but right now is the first time I have ever hated her for it.

That makes me evil, too. Doesn't it? Do I not qualify?

"Yes, Mistress," I say, keeping my voice and face level.

She smiles, and I realize I hate myself more for wanting to know what those blood red lips would feel like against mine.

"And start dinner as well, please. Stupidity makes me hungry."

With that, she leaves me in the makeshift classroom to clean up the chairs and the projector from this little room in the lair, and I do it as I always do: alone.

(Author swap prompt from Harriet: "Today's lesson, next slide please, is about how to destroy a world.")

[moveslikeanape]

that is very understandable about preferring to save money and not really keep up with the latest tech haha, but it really is too bad that companies don't make their games compatible with older devices. maybe someday if you end up wanting or needing to replace yours you'll have a chance to play the game! and if you ever do then i hope you'll enjoy it. the songwriters for wish were two people who had only ever written for pop singers before, which i guess isn't automatically bad--after all, phil collins did a great job with the songs he wrote for tarzan. but i wish that for disney's 100th anniversary movie they had gotten a team that was experienced with broadway-style music, the way they usually do for their musicals. the song "at all costs" from wish is an especially strange song to me because just listening to it, you'd think it has a way different context than it actually does in the movie. oh wow i've actually not heard of that book series before, but it's cool that it's getting a disney+ series! i hope the show turns out well. the only thing i'm reading right now is "disney's art of animation: from mickey mouse to hercules", which so far is a great overview of disney's history and i really wish it had had a newer edition. ooh that sounds interesting, i might try and watch greystroke sometime! what do you think of the direct-to-video sequel (or midquel, i guess) to disney's tarzan, and the tv series, if you've watched those things? i remember watching them both when they originally came out, but i don't recall much of what happened in them and i don't think i saw every episode of the tv series. also, i saw your post about the supervising animator of jane following you on instagram--that's so cool, congratulations!! -🌟

I was listening to Hercules this morning at work, and all I could think about was how amazing the lyrics were. The line from One Last Hope "I'm down to one last shot and my last high note, before that blasted underworld gets my goat" is so satisfying because it rhymes perfectly, makes sense, and is a clever pun using a common phrase that is also in this case literal given he's half goat. And in Zero to Hero there's the line "and this perfect package packed a pair of pretty pecs" is probably the best example of alliteration I've ever heard in a song. Also, all the songs fit perfectly in the movie. They don't sound like something written to get radio plays or to hit the top of the charts and then stuffed into a movie they don't belong in.

More and more lately it seems like Disney's really just going for the quick buck. Just trying to get things out as quickly as possible with out putting the effort in to making it quality like they used to (nothing against the crew, at the end of the day they have to do what their bosses say). So frustrating… just because something is popular does not mean it's the best. Thinking back to growing up in the 90s and the music that was popular then. I loved the music, but it would have been awful to shove that into the movies. Technically it did happen with Mulan. I love that movie, and I do really enjoy True to Your Heart, but it is soooo out of place with the rest of the songs that it practically pulls out out of the movie, like you just changed to channel to something else, and it ruined the ending for me. I honestly feel like skipping the end every time I watch it. One of the reasons the 90s worked so well is they brought in that broadway style that worked so well, and kept the pop music out of the movies (and in the credits where it actually makes sense).

I think the reason Phil Collins worked so well is he was making music for the movie, not what was popular at the time. It made complete sense to bring him in because he's probably the best known drummer at the time. From what I've seen and read he came in willing to learn, because he'd never done music for a film before. This wasn't just writing individual songs, this was telling a story and moving that story along. If you listen to his other work you can notice the difference. Still distinctly Phil Collins, but still serving the film they were made for.

I also remember seeing an interview a few years back with a number of different film composers talking about writing for movies (this one was specifically Marvel movies) compared to "back in the day". One thing that really stood out to me was they said that the movie's are filmed or story-boarded and the director will watch playback with temporary music, sometimes music from other movies that have already been released. The composers said that by the time they are brought in to write the actual music for the movie, the director has "seen the film" so often with the place holder music that that's what they want in the film. So the composers have to write something new that sounds similar to the temp music, instead of having the freedom to create their own music. I wonder if it might be a little of that going on too.

Ooo, I picked up a copy of that art of animation book at a convention a few years ago, still haven't gotten around to reading it though. It's always a shame when book series don't continue. Would be interesting to see a newer version of that series now with todays computer animation included.

I enjoyed the tv series for the most part. A lot of the episodes were based on the original novels, and I loved seeing new adventures for Tarzan. But at the same time, it felt off. The animation was understandably poor (they had only a tiny budget), but the thing that bothered me the most was the way the characters behaved. I know some of it was to make the story work, but they for the most part felt like different characters playing the ones from the movie. Jane was probably the worst, she seemed even less equipped for life in the jungle in the series than she did when she first appeared in the movie. Tarzan and Jane was basically 3 episodes of the series tied together as flashbacks for the story of their 1 year anniversary.

Tarzan 2 was basically an expansion of the Son of Man segment of Tarzan. It had far better animation than Tarzan and Jane (the characters were actually on model!), and the story was pretty cute too. I loved the new songs in it, although they weren't quite up there with Tarzan's songs, it was nice they were able to bring Phil back to write them. Also love that the one was reworked and put in the broadway show.

OMG, thank you!!! I'm still over the moon about that… I keep checking back to see if it actually happened and I didn't just dream it, lol.

[holocene-sims]

15 oc questions!

i was tagged by @stargazer-sims - thank you so much!! ❤️ i've never done one of these tags in a character's voice, so it's fun to get extra practice writing as them 😊

i'll tag:

@dandylion240 @bl-sims-anime @idyllicephemera @elderwisp @nectar-cellar @minty-plumbob @crazykissim @mangosimoothie & anyone else who wants to do it!

ANYWAY i'm doing this for grant! idc if y'all have heard enough about grant, the honor goes to him

are you named after anybody?

my actual legal first name is joseph, which is my grandfather's name! so, uh, somehow yes, i am named after somebody! but i'm 99.9% sure it was out of laziness and not out of love. well, no, i'm 100% sure of that. it's not like my mom has ever respected her parents...but that's a whole different thing, we're not going there.

when was the last time you cried?

i'm a crybaby, come on! i'm known for being very emotional. i mean, sad animal commercials make me weepy. externally weepy. like tears running down my cheeks weepy. but the actual last time i cried? hmm, maybe like a week ago? i don't know if i could tell you why, though. i probably blocked it out of my memory! i'm great at that.

do you have kids?

do, uh, do cats count? because i do have a cat who i love and put sweaters on. sweaters! and he loves it.

do you use sarcasm?

it depends? sarcasm usually feels mean-spirited to me, so i'm not super into it, but then again, that's half the conversations i have with my family. i know in that case, though, that it's all bullshit humor and not serious. anyway, i think what i'm saying in a roundabout way is it depends a lot on context and audience. i don't want to hurt anyone's feelings or be a dick. i like being nice.

what's the first thing you notice about people?

okay, listen, in the most normal and not at all weird way possible, people's hairlines are always what i see first. i've been the first witness to so, so many fake blondes accidentally showing their dark roots or to dudes going bald. i'm sorry! i'm just freakishly tall! i can't not look down at all your heads unless i'm kneeling down on the ground. i'm not trying to spy on or judge the state of your hair, i promise.

what's your eye color?

brown! justice for brown eyes, the best eye color. i love being able to go out in the sun and not have my eyeballs bleached by the light. also, there's really not that many brown eyes in my family, so that's kind of fun. i'm a special boy.

scary movies or happy endings?

why not both? i love a good blair witch project, final destination moment. i also love a nice mushy gushy romantic movie with a happy ending. hell, i'd watch both in the same evening. start off with a fucked up horror movie and end it with pride and prejudice. sounds like a perfect night to me.

any special talents?

probably not anything relevant? i mean, i've played skyrim on survival mode without dying before. oh, and i guess back when i was still playing hockey, uh, a decade ago, i could score with the michigan goal pretty easily, which isn't all that common. in high school, i got my school the state championship win with that skill. but meh, i don't know how many people in the world know enough about hockey to care about that.

where were you born?

michigan! the part everyone forgets about, aka the upper peninsula, aka diet canada.

what are your hobbies?

i like to think i'm a well rounded person. i enjoy the super basic stuff like listening to music, but i'm also into into video games and tabletop RPGs like d&d. cooking and baking are fun for me, too. i did get into art semi-recently as well. i kind of had to have something i could do while laying down, like, 24/7 after i had spinal surgery.

if you're ever bored, just go fuck up your spine. you'll have SO much time on your hands to get new hobbies. actually, don't. please don't. i've been suffering for years and will continue to. i'm dying. don't be me. pretty please. pinky promise.

oh, duh, i also forgot that i'm into astronomy and um, planes. look, i'm not a car guy, i'm a plane guy. that's more fun, right?

have you any pets?

he's a cat named turtle, so, like, you know, the best cat in the world. sometimes i think about getting him a cat friend to hang out with but then i worry he'd get jealous, so i haven't done it. who am i to say whether or not he wants to live with a friend? or a sibling? being alone is so valid. i respect that.

what sports do you play/have you played?

oh, well, like i said, i played hockey for a really long time, like from, hmm, i think kindergarten and on! i even got a scholarship in college to play hockey. i'm glad to be done, though. some things ruined it for me. long story. but these days, uhh, i don't play any real sports anymore. i like hiking, you know, and i do work out at least every other day because it makes me feel better in a lot of ways, but that's kind of it. my sports days are over. i don't even skateboard anymore and i used to do that all the time.

how tall are you?

like 6'7" - though, i am rounding down a little bit. yes, down. not up. also, don't ask me how i ended up that tall. i have exactly one relative who is also tall. hi, chelsea! anyway, i am an accident or one hell of a joke. i'm laughing, i swear. it's very funny.

favorite subject in school?

i was overall a good student because i studied pretty hard but i was for sure a science and math kid. i loved physics in high school. and then in college, i got some way more fun science and math classes. just so you know, i am really holding back right now from rambling like a total nerd loser about my college classes...

but i mean, if you wanna learn about, i don't know, quantum mechanics or flight control systems, hit me up.

dream job?

that's such an easy question! when i was really, really young, i wanted to be a weather man, but then i changed my mind and wanted to be a pilot because, i don't know, i hit that time in every child's life where they have to become obsessed with a form of transportation. but then i never let that obsession go. my parents wanted me to be a doctor the whole time, though, but eww, no, i'm good. anyway, the dream of flying planes never died and somehow it worked out. now if i could just, uh, you know, go back to that job soon, that'd be sick.

[hardin-fitzgerald]

Perhaps Hardin should have been impressed that the other owned a gallery full of their own artwork or the fact that they possessed real talent. All that was a little hard to formulate in his brain thanks to the way the male sized him up, either as a subject to paint, or merely to eat. His nerves, however, were steady and as the male spoke, he continued to eye the pieces in the gallery. "What's that like, not sleeping?" he asked randomly. Probably not the most intelligible question to ask an artist. 'How do you get your muse?' or 'what inspires you,' probably made for better conversation material. Then again, Hardin was no scholar. He was simple at best. Before coming to New Haven he lived a sheltered life surrounded by only his own species—werewolves. Being around others, like vampires, was a whole new endeavor; though he heard plenty about them.

"Well, practice does make perfect, now doesn't it? I doubt you need much. From what I've seen so far, you're very talented," he said doubting the other needed an ego boost either. Maybe it was Hardin's way of being polite. Sometimes he just said things without thinking them through. "Ludwig Voldaren," he repeated, wondering if it was supposed to ring a bell. Sadly it didn't. "So which is it—sculpting or painting me?" Not that he was saying yes, but simply putting feelers out there.

This man was new. Ludwig had lived in New Haven for his entire life and thanks to the parties he threw he was familiar with nearly everybody in town. He obviously had good taste if the Voldaren Gallery was where he decided to spend his free time. Ludwig nods, gesturing to the entire gallery with a sweep of his arm. "They're all mine. It's amazing what you can get done when you barely need to sleep." He says, proud and satisfied with his handiwork. When Hardin spoke again Ludwig was already moving around him, taking in every feature of his face. He had the sort of features that poets wrote about. "Oh, I'm getting nothing out of this. Besides practice, that is. Ordinarily I allow my mind to run wild and I put it to paper. I'd love to get into sculpting or painting the people of New Haven." Moving around Hardin he stands in front of him now, arms crossed over his chest. "You can keep it when I'm finished as a memento. It'll be a lovely conversation piece and you can impress people when you tell them you have a Ludwig Voldaren original."

[likeastarstar]

6:09 PM- Taehyung

(A/N: 1/7 of No Nut November! Feedback is appreciated :) also, I'm retiring the banners for now, it takes too long to get drabbles up when I'm spending like 20 minutes making them lol.)

Tae and you had a lot of sex.

Like, a lot. He found you irresistible, wanting you anywhere and anyhow you'd give yourself to him. He liked sneaking a hand up your dress under restaurant tables, pulling you into restrooms, sneaking away from nights out with friends just to go home to fuck. He liked you naked, all the time, in any position. His favorite were ones where you were exposed to him the most, thighs on either side of his face while he ate your pussy out from underneath or laying on your back with your knees pushed up and into your chest. You were even worse, barraging his phone with pictures of yourself with your fingers in your mouth and tits pushed together. You liked whispering in his ear while in public about how sexy he was, how perfect he was for you, how no one in the world fucked you like he did. You liked the way he was obsessed with you, it matched the level of adoration you had for him.

You moved in together and had insisted on christening not only the bedroom but every room in the house, even the balcony. It was excessive, the amount of sex the two of you had. Which is why when you jokingly brought up partaking in no nut November, you expected him to shoot you down.

"I've never heard of that," Taehyung said curiously, raising his eyebrows slightly, urging you to continue.

You explained the general premise- no orgasms for a month. It was simple, purposeless, and kind of depressing to think about.

"Let's do it." He said with finality, shaking his head softly. His fluffy brown hair moved on its own accord, flopping in front of his eyes for a moment before he pushed it back with a smile on his face. "It'll be like a social experiment."

You sat here now, five days later- pissed as hell. He glared at you from across the room, narrowing his eyes. This was his idea, how were you the bad guy for going through with it? You could practically read his mind, he wanted to break the bet. It's not like you didn't want the same, you could barely handle Taehyung just sitting there, legs spread open carelessly, eyes trained on you while his phone dangled in his hand. His long fingers dwarfed his cell, wrapped around it delicately.

"Hey, I'm horny." He said suddenly, shuffling towards you on the couch.

You snapped your eyes towards him,  an unimpressed look on your face. He studied your expression, eyes glazing over the way your thighs pressed together, obviously. You cleared your throat, determined to stick to your guns. "We made a bet- first one to crack has to do the dishes for three months."

"You wouldn't make me do that," He said dubiously, "Would you?"

You smiled at Taehyung wolfishly, nodding your head. He groaned, flopping back on the couch before he came up with another idea- if you were going to hold him to the punishment- maybe he could get you to crack first. You had already glued your eyes back on your book, but he could see the tension in your body, your cheeks sucked in, the way you clutched the pages too tightly, the bouncing of your knee. All you needed was motivation.

"So, you don't want me to take my clothes off right now?" He pouted dramatically, hands fumbling with the edge of the shirt he had on. You did your best to ignore, but you wanted him- bad. "Not my shirt? Or my pants? You don't want to see me naked?"

He pulled his shirt off, inching towards you slowly, like you were a caged animal, ready to pounce at any moment. "You don't want my hands on you? You don't want me to kiss you? Don't you miss how soft my lips are- baby, it's been days and you won't even kiss me. You don't want me anymore? Just say the word and I'll stop."

You looked at him with wide eyes, unable to say anything at all. It would be a lie if you told him to stop now. He waited for you with bated breath and smirked when you said nothing, flicking the button of his pants undone.

"You don't want me to tell you what a perfect girl you are while I'm fucking into you? Don't you miss the way my cock feels inside you- I know you like it, you've told me a million times before. I miss the way you feel around me, so warm. You feel like home to me, baby. Don't you want to bring me home?"

You mouth was wet, salivating at the sight of Tae pushing his pants down his legs slowly, lifting his hips off the couch to take them off completely. He stood in front of you suddenly, clad in his just boxers and nothing else but a cocky look on his face, staring down at you like a god. He was a god, Adonis- no, Hades.

"Don't you want me to cum in you and tell you how gorgeous you look under me?" He asked simply, an astoundingly innocent look on his face. How did he look so innocent saying the dirtiest things? "Don't you want to fall asleep with me still in you? I promise to hold you for as long as you want afterwards, don't you want that?"

You didn't say anything, finding yourself nodding and then catching yourself- freezing at once.

"No- I hate doing the fucking dishes," You reminded yourself, "I can do this, but if you were to say you lost- I mean, I would be more than okay with that. We could do everything you're saying, I- I would be okay with that."

Taehyung frowned down at you, placing one hand by your head on the back of the couch before leaning down over you, mouth hovering above yours. You thought he was going to kiss you, to admit that he couldn't do this and that he gave up entirely. Instead, he pushed off of the couch with a sigh, cracking his neck sharply.

"You're lucky I don't like losing bets," He mumbled, eyes trained on your body. He clenched his jaw for a moment before shrugging as nonchalantly as possible.  "Because I'm not touching you until you say you give up."

masterlist.

[queerprayers]

hi johanna❤️

can i ask you what is it that draws you to God? when i think of what i miss about being in a religious community, i think exactly of that: community, sharing, the comfort of having rituals (in my case, going to Mass every sunday), maybe the idea of death not really being scary too. but i never felt really strongly about God, and i can’t imagine living in a toxic or bigoted religious community (not saying it’s your experience! but i follow many people here on tumblr with that kind of baggage) and still thinking it’s so worth it to be part of that religion because you love God. that means having a really big love for Him and i’d love to understand this love because it sounds beautiful. what is it in your opinion/experience that draws people to God so strongly? is it something you simply feel in your heart? and where can i buy it jshajdhaa😭

This is such a fascinating question, beloved. I feel you. Here are some thoughts.

Community and rituals are so important, and I firmly believe everyone should have a way to access those, regardless of their religious faith or lack of it. Secular/interfaith communal support is essential to a healthy society, and rituals bring a rhythm to life that in a lot of ways capitalism has taken from us.

I am continually amazed at the strength it takes to push through bigotry and baggage to access religion for so many people, and sometimes I wonder if it's worth it myself. I think that's a personal judgment, and everyone has to make their decisions and sacrifices on their own—choosing how open to be about their identity, what diversities of opinion are welcome and manageable and which are harmful, how much they're willing to sacrifice to be part of a community that won't always agree and will never be perfect. I regularly see and enjoy being with homophobic family members, and I sacrifice some comfort and confidence to do so, because I've decided it's worth it. For many people it's not. I participate in organized religion even while disagreeing with and hating some parts of it. Many people abandon it for those reasons. It's up to us, and we have to let other people make decisions we could never make.

Everyone is drawn to God for such different reasons, but I think it often stems from the acceptance of our lack of knowledge and understanding, and our yearning for meaning and love. I've heard nonreligious people say things like "You only believe in God because you're trying to find meaning in a cruel universe" and like… maybe? Yeah, sometimes, actually. And? Is there something wrong with that? Are you enjoying your lack of meaning? I don't think that's all belief is, of course, but there's truth there.

I firmly believe every single person is drawn to God—it's just in such diverse ways and forms that most people don't recognize it. My grandfather talks about becoming an expert on one of the first electron microscopes in the US the same way he talks about faith—ritual, curiosity, thirst for knowledge, love for the universe. My mother practices the violin the same way she prays—daily, sometimes begrudgingly, sometimes distracted, always beautifully. My childhood best friend studies linguistics the same way I study the Bible—with awe and passion and so many blind spots that we'll never fill in. The ways we reach God are our own, but they all lead to the same place if we begin with love.

It's something we feel, but also what we think and do and gravitate toward and love. It always comes back to love, the greatest of these.

I don't know if you can understand my love for God, mostly because I don't either. It's not something you can learn, or buy, or force. It's inside you already—you were born with love. What you can be taught, learn, and get better at is the practice of love, recognizing how you are drawn to God, and how to unite those things.

Where do your passions lie? What things about the world matter to you? What do you enjoy learning about? How do you support those around you? What sacrifices do you make to live in community with others? What rituals bring rhythm to your life? Spend your life answering those, and you will have been drawn to God without even realizing it.

You're allowed to go to Mass even when you don't believe in the words or don't stay after to talk with people. You're allowed to miss something you'll never go back to. You're allowed to join in parts of religion but not others. You're allowed to believe some days and not others. You're allowed to not label yourself and never commit to any one system. You're allowed to worship God one day and hate Them the next. You're allowed to value the ritual of grocery shopping as much as the ritual of Communion.

Here's your permission, if you need it: go be a person. You'll never figure it all out. You won't find what I have—it's unique to me, for better and worse. But you'll find what you have.

God is with you already. You don't have to go anywhere or do anything. You may have to work to recognize and welcome Them, but They're already there.

<3 Johanna

[reidscanehand]

prompt number 10 with aaron hotchner for #rch3kpromptmondays please!

Pretty Damn Close

RCH 3K Celebration

Prompt: 10. “I know you’re not a fan of Valentine’s day…I just thought that maybe I could change your mind…”

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAUfem!Reader

TW: cursing, mentions of bad relationships, alcohol consumed by adults

Word Count: 1072

Thank you so much for this request! I hope you like it! xx

No one on the team liked to work holidays. Most of the time they had national holidays off and, of course, were it necessary, team members could get religious exemptions for holidays. Cases came up and disturbed those days from time to time, but it somehow seemed to suck more when cases fell on holidays like Valentine's Day. Even though the team didn't have the day off of work, there was something really awful about solving a serial murder case on what was meant to be a day of love and celebration. Even solving a case in the morning and flying home directly after didn't seem to abate the feelings of discontent.

Which is likely why Derek is so annoyed with you for not being more bummed about missing out on Valentine's Day.

"Come on, Y/N," Derek whines for what has to be the third time since this conversation began, "admit it, you're pissed we had to work today, too."

"We always would've had to work, Derek," you remind him cheekily.

"Yeah, Valentine's Day isn't a day off" Spencer backs you up.

"Not now, Pretty Boy," Derek replies, "I'll tease you about this in a minute. I'm just trying to understand why Little Miss Perfect over here doesn't like a holiday all about love."

"First of all," you say, finally fully looking at Derek, "since when am I Little Miss Perfect?"

"Yeah," Rossi laughs from his seat across the aisle, "I haven't heard that one before."

"And secondly," you continue, "haven't you ever been in a shitty relationship, Derek? They kind of ruin your outlook on things like Valentine's Day."

"I've had my fair share of bad relationships, sweet pea," Derek laughs, at which Emily and JJ exchange glances and burst into laughter. "But look at me, I still love Valentine's Day."

You roll your eyes, "Well, lucky for you, then."

"In what way?"

"You haven't had relationships awful enough to put you off of it for good," you scoff derisively. "And you didn't answer my first question."

At that Derek unexpectedly wiggles his eyebrows, leaning forward conspiratorially, "That's because our Unit Chief" - his eyes dart to the front of the jet where Hotch sits, typing up his report, completely unaware of the conversation - "apparently drunkenly described you as the perfect agent. And the perfect woman."

You feel like your eyes are popping out of your head, "He what?"

"Shhh," Rossi scolds the both of you, "dammit, Morgan, I never should've told you that."

"Wait - multiple people know about this?" you ask, practically whisper screaming at this point.

"Oh, we all know about this, honey," Emily chuckles quietly.

"I don't understand why you're upset," JJ says suddenly.

"Yeah," Spencer agrees. "You have a crush on him, right?"

You stare at Spencer so hard he looks pained, "What the fuck are you talking ab-"

"Don't try to pretend, Little Miss Perfect," Derek cuts you off. "You lovebirds have a team of profilers surrounding you. Best of luck keeping secrets, babe."

"Leave her alone," Rossi reprimands them all quietly. "This is a lot to take in. Especially on Valentine's Day."

The rest of the trip home continues in relative quiet. Smaller conversations and small card games dribble off into most people napping. You, however, are far too flabbergasted to let your mind rest.

Aaron Hotchner. SSA Hotchner. Hotch - the man you've had a crush on since God knows when - drunkenly described you as the perfect woman. What the fuck are you supposed to do with that?

Eventually, you get up, crossing to the kitchenette area to make yourself a cup of tea. You pass Hotch, practically running (as best as you can in a tiny jet) to get past him quickly. It's dim and somehow quieter in the kitchenette. You fix yourself a cup of tea, only for footsteps to approach you from behind.

"Y/N," Hotch whispers from behind you. You turn around to face him, not expecting how soft and sweet his expression looks.

"Hotch," you whisper in response.

He moves his weight between his feet, hands in his pockets, looking down before looking back up at you, "So, um, I don't...I don't ever want to be dishonest with you."

"O-okay," you reply, not sure what to do with that.

"But, um, I...I heard the conversation earlier."

You feel your eyebrows skyrocketing, can feel the terror entering your spine, rolling through you. Though all you manage to reply with is, "Oh."

"I...I'm so sorry," he rasps. It's at that moment that you realize...Hotch, your stoic, intense unit chief is blushing.

"Hotch-"

"Look, you don't have to say anything, I just...Dave invited me over and I drank too much and I said some...things that I shouldn't have."

The sound your mug makes as you place it on the counter is far louder than it should be. The steadying breath you take after it is also pretty loud. But you step forward into Hotch's space, tentatively placing your hands on his chest.

"Did you...mean what you said?" you ask quietly, eyes not quite meeting his, even as you feel his piercing gaze staring down at you.

"Every word," he replies. "I think you're...I think you're perfect."

"No one's perfect," you tease.

A gentle finger hooks itself under your chin, pushing you to look up at him, "You're pretty damn close."

You gaze into his eyes for a moment, then he glances down at your lips.

"Can I...could I kiss you, Y/N?" he asks softly. "Only...I know you're not a fan of Valentine's Day...I just thought that maybe I could change your mind."

You don't even try to fight your smile as you nod and Hotch presses his lips to yours. It's miraculous, really, the ability of this man to turn this day around for you in a matter of moments. The two of you kiss for a bit, all grins and shy touches and glances, making it all the more shocking when the pilot's voice comes over the speakers, announcing landing in an hour.

Without a care in the world, Hotch tugs you by the hand back to his seat, sitting you next to him even as the team wakes up around you all. If they're glancing your way, you barely notice, too wrapped up in the absolutely perfect man next to you.

And if not perfect, then pretty damn close.

~~~

Link to My Main Master List

Link to RCH 3K Celebration

[wanderlustknightofmagic]

Rain couldn't help but frown when he heard the lackluster excuse for why those in power have elected to ignore the problem rather than band together and get rid of it properly. "I'm reminded of a phrase, 'Instead of treat the infection, they'd rather bandage the wound.' Still, perhaps I'm not allowed to say my piece give I'm a passerby and not a native," He'd shake his head and sigh. Still, not reason to let the politics of this world cause the conversation to shift so dramatically.

When she made mention of how to refer to her, he was a little surprised she didn't request to have her titles used as he would've done so upon request. Still, calling her Noelle was also fine.

"Ooooh! Fundamentals are the core of all forms of things, so have a strong core can make up for a lot. Conjuration specialization is also quite impressive. Can you share what's the limit of your magic with me or is that being rude?" He'd question while looking at her.

When she spoke about style, he'd chuckle a bit. "Well, I can't speak for most worlds I've been too, but the whole 'Wand and Staff' are indeed a classic. I do remember having a classmate who used weaponry as a foci, he couldn't quite figure out which he wanted to use, but I think he ended up sticking with an axe. He had a passion and I truly do hope he's done much with his craft as I can see why he'd pursue that method," He'd chuckle a bit more. "Though I'm a bit surprised that it isn't more taxing but the power does increase... Maybe there is some mana loss for my world or perhaps there is a leak when doing too much? I might have to do some research..." He'd muse.

Rain did wear a concerned expression at her mention of her condition, though since it appears like she was alright, he would relax a bit. When he was about to mention his own schooling, he saw her lean in and would respond by doing the same. He'd laugh a bit, covering his mouth at her suggestion. "Give the ones you're teaching a chance to express themselves and they'll find a way to bloom while enjoying what they are doing~. Your school sounds very much like the perfect grounds to help all form of magic-users grow into wonderful spell-casters. My own schooling was the best in the kingdom, we focused on discovering what school of magic we have innate talent in and then practicing daily in order to gain a mastery over it. Aspiring students were allowed to choose up to two other schools to practice in as well in order to help them be more well-rounded. I actually choose to hone and truly master Elemental Magic as I had an affinity for it and I enjoyed seeing the limits I had and trying to surpass them. Oh, but to be clear, when I refer to the schools of magic, we have a classification for magic known as Everyday Magic which is a part of our curriculum no matter what you choose. Even toddlers are taught to use some form of Everyday Magic." He'd then scratch his cheek and let out a bit of a sighing laugh. "When it comes to Everyday Magic... I actually do lack quite a bit as I picked what I believed would be the most useful. Unspoken Message would've been lovely to have, but for some reason, the Royal Knight never learned such because 'Why would I ever need to tell someone something and NOT want to just talk to them?' Heh heh... ah... I'm sure for some there is a sigh of relief that I didn't, but honestly, I've run into so many instances where I could've used it."

"Magic is a scientific discipline. I don't see what's so difficult to grasp about that."

[fishsticksloser]

My Only Wish

Warnings: fluff, kinda angsty, swearing, bar & alcohol, jealous Harry?, Harry 3rd person centered

A/N: Harry Choi has my soul. You're a judge on M.o.M with Harry and Zen, that's how you met

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

Tain and Malong drug Harry to Tain’s bar. Harry wasn’t very happy, in fact he was pretty angry. He was excited to spend the day in, no one to bother him, safe under his covers with a book. But no, Tain and Malong had to ruin that.

“They’ll be here.” Tain said. Harry gave him a quizzed look. “You heard me. They’ll be here.”

“Why would I care weather they’re here or not?” Harry asks.

“Oh please.” Malong laughs. “You act the way Tain does around Rachel.”

Harry didn’t answer, he just walked away to get a drink. Tain went to find Rachel, of course. Harry sat at the bar, just minding his own business, somewhat watching the door to see if you were in fact coming.

He saw you come in and look around before Malong approached you. You smiled at him as he led you further into the bar. You talked and joked with everyone, your smile echoed in Harry’s mind. Malong whispered something to you and you smiled, nodding. He got up and held his hand out for you, you quickly took it, and Malong whisked you to the dance floor. A sweet, slow melody was playing, perfect for slow dancing.

By no means we're you the only 2 on the dance floor, there were a few other couples there as well, but Malong was a skilled and graceful dancer. Harry could tell that you 2 were having a deep conversation, but he couldn't make it out. All he saw was your smile.

Harry wasn't a very jealous guy, he never really saw a need for it, but Malong wasn't a bad looking guy. Actually practically every girl fawned over him, he didn't seem to mind though. Malong being attractive didn't matter to Harry, he had the same issue. But it was you dancing and laughing with him that set Harry off.

Why couldn't that be me?

Probably because instead of greeting you, he stayed at the bar and let Malong do it.

Malong leaned down to you, was he whispering or kissing you? He couldn't tell. It made Harry's blood boil.

"Hey, man." Zen said, sitting next to Harry. "Why don't you go say something?"

"They're having a good time." Harry answers. He turned back to the bar.

"Whatever..." Zen sighs, "even though I'm pretty sure they have feelings for you too."

Zen didn't let Harry answer. Which was fine, Harry didn't have anything to say. Zen was a good guy, very observant as well, but Harry couldn't tell if Zen was telling the truth.

As the night went on, Harry got more antsy. Not only was Malong showing interest in you, but so was Zen, Teo, and Jay. Harry stayed at the bar, trying to ignore his anger and jealousy. Eventually he had enough and got up to go to the bathroom as an escape, he noticed you followed him.

"You okay?" You ask. "You seen kind of... Off..."

"Oh come on..." Harry groans, "you and I both know what he was doing."

"No way... You're actually jealous!" You laughed. "I didn't think you were the jealous type."

"What are you laughing at?" He spits. "I don't see anything funny."

"I've never seen you this mad before." You were still laughing.

"I'm not mad."

"Uh huh. Sure, you sure look it."

Was he mad? Maybe he was. You had spent all your night being gawked over and flirted with. He shouldn't be mad, he has no right, he chose to stay at the bar. He knew his friends meant the best, trying to push him into admitting his feelings...

But fuck was it hard.

"I..." Harry began. "I should- I need to say something. I know... I... I like you. A lot..."

"Harry." You start, but he quickly interrupts, trying to finish getting it all out.

"This isn't easy for me." He continued. "But you matter to me. I can't seem to get you off my mind... If I'm being honest I don't think I want to."

It wasn't perfect by any means, if fact it was quite messy. Especially the kiss you gave him.

[starshipsofstarlord]

Stuck in 1903

Part Two

Masterlist

Summary: Damon and Bonnie had come to your rescue, or so you thought, but it is Kai’s every intention to get close to you again

Pairing: Kai Parker x reader

Warnings: angst, smidge of fluff, mentions of smut, mentions of death, mentions of murder, bad friendships, mentions of poison, swearing

Word Count: 2052

Find Part One Here

divider by @firefly-graphics

If the Other Side continued to exist, then you would be there rather than this subordinate prison world which had been designed for one bad witch. Kai's own kind feared him, you had experienced him mentally draining your energy, he was a chore to put up with, but he could do much more than that, you had learnt from Bonnie. He fed off magic, physically stealing it from bodies and items that harboured any of it, which had poisoned his mind to hunt for power. Your friends had informed you that he had murdered his siblings, well some of them anyway, and had attempted to do so to more of them. And now you knew, with supporting evidence, never to trust Malakai Parker.

Without Damon and Bonnie you had to resort to fending for yourself, which was not at all difficult since this version of Mystic Falls that you were trapped in was quite literally a ghost town. The forever enveloping silence was torture, though the method of ignorance had not been designed for you; it was all for Kai, and that unsettled you. There was one more thing that you had been dreading - the possibility that you could not escape from the remote isolation without the aid of the guest starring siphon himself. This hell was built to contain him for eternity, but now there was magic that he could use to his own advantage nearby.

Your cheek rested upon the side of your hand, mushing the flesh whilst your elbow was poised upon the countertop of the kitchen island in the Salvatore house. All of your concentration validated your deep thoughts, of which you were broken from as a plate was placed directly in front of you, a pancake decorated with chocolate chips and syrup to form a smiley face. Damon was the culprit as he threw a tea towel over his shoulder, expectedly looking at you.

"I'm not hungry." You informed the vampire, who simply frowned at your lack of an appetite. "I ate yesterday, which was technically today." Beneath the table, you crossed your ankles, as you earnt a sigh from your well aged friend; he clearly was not impressed by your behaviour. But you didn't know what he had expected from you, you had been trapped here for longer than you could remember, and alone until you had discovered the man that had been outcast by his own family. At the time you had not known of his murderous tendencies, and had wanted nothing more than to get away from him, and you wouldn't like to admit it but you even missed him a little.

He was annoying and cocky, and withheld crucial information from you, though there was something that contradicted that all. Whenever any one of your friends had suffered the fate of death, they were always attempted to be brought back to life against the natural order of things. It made you wonder and doubt a little if they had even tried to resurrect you. In this separated reality, there was no jurisdiction so that you could know, though each time that either Damon or Bonnie looked at you, you could swear that there was guilt written in their gazes.

"Look I knew being stuck here with Kai must have fucked you up-" he should have bit his lip, his assumptions were anything but correct. And that was proven as you defensively darted out of your seat and jabbed your finger in his face, making him pivot his jaw back. There were many things that were 'fucked up', and supposing that you were one of them because you had died after sacrificing yourself to ensure that they all continued to live just didn't settle right with you. The context of the morbid situation did not help with condoning any reassurance at all, in fact, it gave a spine to your lack of faith in him and the others in the first place. Out of everyone, it was inherently worse to be here with Damon, all he had cared about was his precious Elena as well as himself, and after existing for well over a century, that was insurance that he was never going to change.

"It wasn't him who did that to me, it was roaming this damned place by myself, I had no one. And as crazy as it sounds, I think spending time with the notorious Malakai Parker helped me keep what was to spare of my sanity. If I'm not wrong, I may even say that I've found more being here than dealing with the bullshit y'all cause back home." Perhaps your words were a tad harsh, if Bonnie were in the room you were sure that she'd have a somewhat understanding of what you were saying. Though she was not, and thus you had to deal with the harshness of her best friend all by your lonesome. And it seemed that you had rattled him, apparently he couldn't handle the truth.

"Then why don't you run back to the sociopath? When we discovered that you were here, we found the pair of you attached to the hip anyways. And with him inside of you, I'd never seen you so darn happy, better here with him than tempting me to drink bleach from the way that you constantly complained when you were alive; I swear you were worse than Donovan." It was on your mind's own command for you to take a step back, and away from the toxin that Damon had so cruelly spat at you. Ans the way that he compared you to Matt made you angry; it was though he were ignoring that there were valid reasons for the blond to be the way that he was - after all, the monster before you had practically killed his sister. A laugh renegaded out from your mouth as you realised that you had been right all along, none of them cared. You were just a burden that stopped them from having a perfect life together. If this were a book, then this would be the beginning to your villain arc, and ironically enough Damon saw himself as one of the good guys. Now that was utterly ridiculous after every reckless thing that he had ever done!

"Have it your way then bloodsucker." All along, you should have trusted your guy, and from now on you knew that you would listen to it. And strangely enough, it was calling you to Kai, maybe it was because he was your last resort to escaping this imprisonment that had been meant for him alone. Turning on your heel, you heard Damon flop the towel down on the side and sigh, though you continued to walk, appeasing your better judgement elsewhere. "Wait." He tried to convince you to stay, belatedly understanding the mistake that he had made, but it was no use, you were already on your journey of getting as far away as possible from him.

The Mystic Grill, it remained to be familiar in your eyes as you entered. It was empty and void of drunken assholes and narcissists that you had wasted too much time on. The only person that you missed in the modern alternative was Matt Donovan, he was the only person that didn't treat you as though you were invisible or a nuisance. You wondered how he was coping with your absence, knowing him, he was probably relieved that Damon was gone. But you weren't, because he was here with you instead. Trailing your fingertips over the counter of the bar, out of the corner of your eye you saw a lonely glass of bourbon that was sat there as though it were lamenting you with mockery. You tried to hold your sentimental sob inside, but it was practically impossible. It tore through your body, bellowing out from your mouth as you stifled and fought through your tears.

A hand caressed the landscape of your back causing you to jump and flinch from the unexpected contact. One thing that you had learnt from evading and eventually experiencing the qualms of death, was that you could never be too careful. For no more than a second you had predicted that the intruder to your pity party was Damon, that he had followed you as you tried to distance yourself from him, but alas it was not, instead of being greeted by a fretless vampire, you were condemned by the sight of a powerless witch, of whom had purposely interjected your moment of cracked emotion and wore a brave smile for you. Wiping your eyes with the back of your sleeves, you couldn't help but snap at him. "If you're here to finish what we started then tough luck Parker, you've been here long enough and you have two hands, figure something else out."

His tongue darted out to swipe at his own bottom lip, as he raised his hand, showcasing his offering to you. "I was only going to see if you wanted a pork rind, you look like you could use one." Sighing, you dug your hand into the pungent packet that was littered with dust and crumbs, retrieving a few treats for yourself as you placed them in your mouth. "And now should be when the poison kicks in..." With your hand, you gave him a little shove as you tolled your eyes at his homicidal comedy. "Come on, that was funny! I'm funny!"

"If you say so, there's not very many people around to give you an honest opinion." It was true, the only other human like lifeforms impartially close by were Damon and Bonnie, and well, you weren't going to scurry back to them anytime soon. "And if you had poisoned me, then you would know that I would be fine and dandy in not so long, It wouldn't make a difference if that wasn't the case either, I mean I'm already dead, what could be worse than that?" Kai looked at you with shock; he didn't know that about you, that you had actually suffered a final breath. Now he thought about it, the grand scheme of things he didn't know much about you in general, though he was prepared to learn. He had often found death to be fulfilling, satisfying even, but he'd never thought about its victims being so beautiful. Yet here you were before him, by chance the one force that could motivate and help him find a way out of this jarring hole of reaping misery.

"You're here, that's all that matters." As soon as those words fled from his lips he realised exactly what he had said, and a blush framed his features. "I um - that wasn't what I - you know, yeah..." He scratched the back of his neck as you shook your head at this new side that you were seeing of Malakai. His parents called him Malakai, of course he was going to become a killer, but right now you saw nothing more than an embarrassed boy whose skin had flushed as an affect of his own words. From your experience, everyone was either the killer or the killed - you two were one of each. Like ying and yang, you fit perfectly, it was a balanced divide that was settled on whichever rhythm played out in the air. And to correspond with that thought you walked over to the jukebox, a song beginning to play which made Kai want to cover his ears. "I hate this song." He told you; he really did, if he could murder it, he would without a doubt.

"Then don't listen, just dance with me." You extended your hands out to him, to which he begrudgingly reached for. And as he snapped his eyes open, he realised that was all a memory, and that goddamn song was still playing. All he could think about was you, he had seen how upset you had been to die, and yet you were gone again, and it was all down to your so called friends. One was standing before him as he sat in chains, imprisoned against a chair. "Are you here to punish me?" He asked Bonnie, wanting nothing more than shut his eyes and see your face again.

[mochiable]

— how you met nct dream.

anon request: hello! i don’t know if you take this type of request but i would love a scenario on how you meet nct dream ot7 if it’s possible, thank you!

warning: one swear word

wc: 1.5k

₊˚✧┆𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗞

you had been watching that cute boy on the badminton court playing with his friends ever since you had started working in the gym and you couldn't help but become more and more interested in him with each passing day. the noises he made when he hit the shuttlecock, the whimpers that came from his pink fluffy lips when he missed the expected shot and the way he frowned and puckered his mouth when his partner missed were some of your favourite things about going to work. yet you had never been able to strike up a conversation. never until this day, when his friends decided to take a break and go watch the football match, while he preferred to stay and practice a bit more.

"you're good," you complimented him once you approached him and threw him a bottle of water, which he managed to catch on the fly. "thank you," he replied flashing you a shy smile, causing his cheekbones to bulge. "where did you learn all that?" you asked sitting down on the bench at the side of the court. he turned to look at you nervously, setting the bottle down once he had taken a sip. "my father... well... he taught me, i guess," he replied, averting his gaze to anywhere on the court except your eyes. "and what do you like best about it?" you questioned him, watching the feather he was playing with bounce on the ground. "ahhh, i... i like badminton, i mean... i like it a lot, like... the... the... the rackets are really nice," he replied trying to find the right words, looking even more tender than ever and causing a smile to form on your lips. but just then his friends arrived, so you stood up and approached him. "nice to meet you, mark," you bowed your head and he copied you, failing to hide the blush on his cheeks.

₊˚✧┆𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗝𝗨𝗡

you snorted once more when the card of the hotel you were staying at wouldn't open the door. you had just taken a dip in the pool and were starting to get cold from wearing only a t-shirt over your swimsuit. you had already used every curse word the dictionary had and still the door wouldn't open. until suddenly you heard a click and it did, so you hurriedly tried to enter. however, something a little softer than the door blocked your way, making you bump into it or, rather, into someone.

“can i help you with something?” the boy smiled kindly as two others a little taller than him appeared from behind. you frowned, looking at the number painted on the door and then looking at the number written on your card. it was then that you realised your mistake, “shit! sorry, sorry. i've got the wrong room,” you apologised, trying to hide your embarrassment and nervousness. “is your room next door?” he asked leaning the side of his body against the door frame, to which you nodded, “i hope to see you again then,” he spoke, as the other two boys who hadn't moved yet tried to hide their laughter. you smiled still a little self-consciously and turned around with the intention of getting out of there. “nice outfit, by the way.”

₊˚✧┆𝗝𝗘𝗡𝗢

you were taking the dog for a walk in the park as you usually did, but this day was a bit different. you let the dog loose, trusting him completely, although you regretted it after a second when you saw how he ran away from you, starting to chase a boy riding his bike. you ran after him, calling his name and wishing you were born with more stamina, because your lungs weren’t strong enough for that. the boy slowed down when he noticed the animal running after him, who didn't think twice before jumping on top of him and knocking him off his bike, licking his face while getting petted. when you managed to get to where they were, you apologised repeatedly, getting several "don't worry" from the boy, smiling with amusement at your furry friend.

“i hope your dog doesn't attack me again,” he laughed softly, hopping on his bike and riding off, reassuring you that there would definitely be a next time.

₊˚✧┆𝗛𝗔𝗘𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗡

in the summer you worked in a flower shop, you didn't get paid much but it was enough to pay for your studies. that day, your boss sent you to the most famous dance company in your city to deliver a bouquet with yellow sunflowers, something strange you had to admit.

leaving the lift you bumped into a handsome guy who apologized for not having noticed and almost destroying those beautiful flowers. as an apology he offered to guide you to your destination and you, a bit shy, accepted shyly. you could notice the look of confusion when you pointed out where you should deliver the sunflowers and, when you entered the room, he didn't hesitate to speak.

“so the flowers are for me, you’re the one sending them?” he approached them to smell their soft, fresh scent and then looked at you with a twinkle in his eye. you shook your head slightly, watching an amused pout form on his handsome face, “how bad, i would’ve wished to receive such a gift from someone so pretty.”

₊˚✧┆𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗠𝗜𝗡

Songpa Naru Park was perhaps your favourite place to spend the afternoon when you didn't have too much to do. coming here, watching the almond blossoms swaying in the wind, listening to the swallows singing and watching families having a good time were your favourite images. you couldn't miss the photographs, you were nobody without your camera and your snapshots.

at that moment, watching the black and white ducks arguing over which part of the lake belonged to each of them, you felt a flash in your right profile, which made you startle and your camera, which was in your lap, rush to the ground. however, a big hand prevented that horrible disaster.

“forgive me,” the stranger apologised, “i didn't mean to,” he showed you his perfect white teeth as he returned the camera to your lap. “did you take a picture of me?” you asked looking in his direction, remembering that bright light. he looked at you with regret and put his hand to the back of his neck, scratching it nervously, “sorry about that too.” you gave him a tight-lipped smile and lifted your shoulders, “don't worry, it's all right,” you replied turning your gaze back to the lake, “it’s beautiful, isn't it?” you asked, watching him out of the corner of your eye. “yes, very pretty,” he replied, looking at your picture on his camera, which brought another smile to your face, a bigger one this time.

₊˚✧┆𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗡𝗟𝗘

you were definitely lost. maybe if you hadn't listened to your brother, you would now be at the restaurant where your parents were waiting for you. but obviously, he didn't want to use the gps as he had "memorised the way". and this is when he forced you to roll down the car window and ask some stranger for help.

“excuse me, could you tell me where Las Torres restaurant is?” you asked a handsome guy, wearing a loose summer brown shirt. he smiled at you and asked for your phone so he could write it down for you, which you readily agreed to. “here you go. i’ve drawn you the official route, but also a small detour that will get you there faster,” he explained, handing you back the phone through the window. after thanking him and saying goodbye, he gave you a smile with a wink, which caused a slight blush to appear on your cheeks. you soon learned the reason for this gesture. he hadn't asked for your mobile phone just to guide you, but to write down his number as well.

₊˚✧┆𝗝𝗜𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚

you were having dinner with a friend at one of your favourite restaurants, celebrating the end of the school year and another year of your friendship. however, you weren't paying full attention to your friend, as you were busier watching the boy who hadn't stopped looking at you all night and who, when you looked back at him, looked away, blushing slightly. halfway through dinner you could notice his friend saying something in his ear, looking in your direction, and how the boy's eyes widened while he began to shake his head. but suddenly, the other boy stood up and, ignoring his friend's prayers, approached you with a mischievous smile on his face.

“good evening,” he greeted, interrupting your conversation and resting his hands on the table, “you've caught my friend's eye, but he's too shy and cowardly to come and ask for your number himself, so i’m here to make his dreams come true,” he addressed you with confidence and amusement, pointing to the sweet boy who was now covering his face with the tablecloth. you finally decided to write down your number on the napkin and your heart skipped a beat as the boy smiled shyly at you after receiving the piece of paper with your number written on it.

©️  MOCHIABLE. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

requests are open!

main masterlist | nct masterlist

a/n: this is my very first multiple scenario and i have to admit i’m very nervous about it. i’d really appreciate it if you could provide me with some feedback and tell what do you think of it! hope you liked it, love you<3

[chrisevansgoodgirl]

i've heard allegations 'bout your reputation, i'll show you my shadows if you show yours

summary: requested (like a year ago, sorry!)  Reader and Andy getting in a legitimate fight or maybe flirting in front of him with one of his colleagues to get under his skin because he hasn’t touched her in weeks from being so busy jealous Andy would be so dominant I’m weak i took some liberties and set it at the christmas eve party at andy’s office.

warnings: andrew barber being r o u g h  😩 😩 😩 and jealous 😩  and mean bc i just so deeply want this man to yell at me and pull my hair bc he’s an angry daddy, however, he is not called daddy in this story bc i don’t do it unless you guys ask me to. so smut, and he’s in charge and i’m dead about it. more videos being made bc apparently that’s on my mind.

word count: around 7,500

pairing: andy barber x reader

a/n: i hate that it took me so long to post this but here i am, almost a month late with a christmas eve party story. i have very little shame tbh.

You were not unreasonable, no matter what Andy claimed. You could always admit what was your fault—which was about 80% of all disagreements—but Andy had his faults, too. Tonight? Well, you weren’t innocent…but you were not the only one to blame.

This was the third Christmas party he had taken you to. The first year had not completely been his doing. Lynn had been bothering him about it and he would have gotten away with pretending it just wasn’t possible had Lynn not run into you at the coffee shop near Andy’s house.

You had been accustomed to Andy by then. He didn’t put distance between you two because he wanted to, he just simply wasn’t the best at getting close. You practically forced him into sometimes, and it had never gone wrong, so he trusted you. A lot.

You weren’t sure you were going to be able to say that much longer. You had your moments, those situations where you pushed him just a little too far. Not so far that he was angry about it, but far enough that you ended up with a sore ass and maybe a few finger-shaped bruises on your skin.

As if that was an incentive to stop?

Lately, things had been…off. Andy was working on a big case, one that he had just finished the day before. You expected that he was going to come home and make up for not having touched you in 17 days. Yet, that didn’t happen.

You weren’t trying to complain too much. The “honeymoon phase” was something that could not be applied to your relationship because you were as happy as any other day, you loved him more and more as time went on, and you guys always had sex. Always.

But there were the cases that sometimes threw a slight pause in that. That was fine, you understood and it wasn’t like you were with Andy for sex. You loved that man so fucking much, you could deal with some neglect for a little bit. Emphasis on a little bit.

17 days with no immediate plans to remedy it was crossing a line. So, on the 18th night, the night of his office Christmas party, after he merely kissed your head, told you that you looked beautiful, and didn’t fuck you in your tiny, sparkly dress, you also wanted to cross a line. A specific line because it was hard to get a reaction out of him any other way.

Andrew Barber was a jealous man. It was something you never played with because he was jealous. He wasn’t some immature idiot who was going to cause a scene, but he would interrogate you about people he felt were “suspicious”.

On your way to the party, he had wanted to catch up. He felt like this was the first time he was able to breathe since he was put on the case, and he had noticed some distance between you two. You told him about the very basic parts of your day—work, friends, family.

When he placed his hand on your thigh, you had to wonder if this was a game. Why hadn’t he fucked you? Was he trying to make you beg? That was something Andy thoroughly enjoyed, and you trusted him so much that you rarely ever knew when he was doing it. If you stopped to think about it, you would probably find a few times he’d managed to get away with it.

He let you hold his hand and to avoid having to pull away from you, he told you when to move the gear shift. It was cute, too cute for how long you two had been together, but Andy seemed willing to indulge you. He always did when he could.

But as soon as he got to the party, there was more work talk and he had basically pawned you off on Lynn. She was thrilled, of course, she rarely had time for friendships, but she valued Andy, and because of that, she loved you almost as much as he did.

It had been two hours by the time you were completely fed up. Lynn had decided she was about to head out, so she was making her rounds, and that meant that you were stuck with the other partners. Men, women, they were all talking about how great their lawyers had been lately.

Yet, reminder, you hadn’t been fucked in nearly 18 days. You weren’t going to sit around and listen to that for the whole night, you innocently decided to wander a bit. Andy was talking about his case and seemed almost oblivious to your presence. Why did he even bring you? He was the one that reminded you about it, you probably wouldn’t have realized it had gone by until well into next year since work was so hectic.

Regardless, without an answer, you were left to entertain yourself. What else were you supposed to do? Just sit around all night and not speak to anyone? Andy was a complicated man and he had only a handful of people at the job that he liked, but fewer people that he disliked. Most people, he felt indifferent about, and those were the pawns for your current game.

You flit all around the party, laughing, talking to everyone, and though you saw him seeking out your whereabouts every now and then, there was no reaction at all. He didn’t care that some of these sleazy men were staring at your cleavage or your legs—two things he should have done earlier but did not.

By the time you’d nearly spoken to everyone, you felt…possessed, there was no better way to describe it. You were mad and confused and tired, and till the day you died, you would swear on everything you held sacred, the following was not part of your plan. You simply had no other choice than to go along with it when it practically fell in your lap.

Andy hadn’t noticed your best attempts but as soon as Neal was standing in front of you, he was watching. You had not and would not have gone to Neal, it was the other way around. He was possibly picking up on all your sadness and desperation, he was probably able to spot attention-seeking from a mile away since he pulled those kinds of stunts regularly.

Andy was finally paying attention to you and that was why you didn’t walk away. Your boyfriend could deny it all he wanted, but you saw something in his eyes. There was that anger, of course, but there was also that dark gleam. The one that he had when he liked to lay you out under him and remind you who you belong to.

That was all you wanted, that was the only reasoning behind your actions. You didn’t think you’d done anything wrong, not until you laughed at something Neal said and he laughed back, and then he touched your shoulder.

And that was when you knew things had gone too far. You crossed a line, and you should have known better than even trying to use Neal. Because he envied Andy to no end, understandably. Why wouldn’t he try to flirt with you? No one got Andy as angry as Neal, and you should have just put your ego aside and spoken to your boyfriend.

But that window had closed and your time for being a mature, communicating adult was over. You quickly broke away from Neal after that and Andy took only seconds before he was dragging your ass out of that party and to the car.

You weren’t sure what to do. Pretend you didn’t know what the big deal was? Maybe just start blurting out apologies. He opened the car door for you, ushered you in, and then got into the driver’s seat in complete silence.

Andy had been mad at you before, but he had never been so angry he wouldn’t look at you or speak to you. He was gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were white. His jaw set, brow furrowed, shoulders tense—he stayed that way the entire drive.

Andy wasn’t like this, he usually always had his temper in control. You were worried because you were one of the few people Andy sincerely trusted. It would devastate you if this gave him pause.

When he stopped the car, it became uncomfortably silent. It had taken you almost a minute to decide where you wanted to take this. “Andy, I’m—”

“Don’t apologize.”

“But I am s—”

“Get upstairs, take your dress off, and wait for me on the bed.”

Shit. You fumbled with the handle for a moment, scurrying inside and up the stairs. This was everything that you had wanted, wasn’t it? Then why the fuck were you nervous? Why were you shaking? Why did the idea of a black hole appearing and swallowing you sound so appealing?

You took off your dress and hung it back in your closet. You’d only been in it for a few hours, that didn’t warrant an actual wash. Shakily, you made your way back to the bed and sat there. What about your bra and panties? He hadn’t said. Your shoes? Fuck, what were you supposed to do?

Andy walked in and flipped on the light.

Idiot, why hadn’t you done that?

He made his way to the dresser off to the side of the bedroom, he removed his jacket first, then his cuff links and his tie. He started rolling up his sleeves and you had to look away.

You turned down to your lap. “You didn’t tell me if you wanted me to keep anything else on.”

“I also didn’t tell you that you could speak,” he asserted.

Your stomach dropped, the mere thought of not following his directions was unsettling. When Andy got like this, you wanted to do what he told you to. You wanted him to think you were his good girl. Any time you failed at absolute perfection, you didn’t take it well.

You didn’t know if you should apologize or remain silent. You were wringing your hands, something you became aware of only when he made his way in front of you and placed his hands over yours. You startled slightly, looking up at him.

He grabbed your chin with his thumb and forefinger, keeping your head tilted back. “Are you nervous?”

“I don’t know,” you muttered. You didn’t want him to feel bad because you were feeling some type of way. You also didn’t want to think this had anything to do with him. He’d never given you reason to be nervous.

“Are you scared?”

“Kind of.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to disappoint you.”

He leaned down, face directly in front of yours. “Before we start, I need you to understand that you’ve never disappointed me. Okay?”

You nodded. “Okay.” That didn’t really help as much as he probably thought it would. Even if you hadn’t disappointed him, there was always the chance that you would. And you weren’t sure he was being completely honest anyway. Neal? What the fuck was wrong with you?

“You don’t need to be nervous or scared, just be completely honest with me.”

“Of course.” You would never lie to him.

“Who do you belong to?”

Your answer was immediate, you didn’t even need to think about it. Recalling life before you met Andy was a bit blurry. Who had you been? Where? What had you wanted? “You.”

“So,” he ran his thumb over your bottom lip, “this mouth…”

“Is yours,” you confirmed.

He hummed, fingers trailing from your face all the way down, between your breasts, over your stomach, stopping at the band of your panties. He paused, noting the shakiness in your breath, the goosebumps on your skin, your hands that were gripping the sheets.

Abruptly, his hand dropped to where you had been expecting it to. Your breath hitched and your hips jumped off the bed, desperate for his touch.

He made a small noise of disapproval and you hurriedly settled back down on the bed. “This pussy? Is that mine, too?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

He pulled your panties off to the side and his fingers ran up your wet skin at an agonizing pace. He brought them up to his lips and his tongue slipped out to taste you. He smiled because you had managed to stay almost completely still, apart from a bit of squirming. “You’re such a good girl, baby. You know that’s one of my favorite things about you, how good you are for me.”

That gave you these awful butterflies and you felt hot everywhere. That was all you ever needed to hear. His hand returned to your center and his first finger slid into you. You looked down to see but he grabbed your jaw again and turned you back up.

“Keep watching me, baby.”

He liked to test you, you knew that. He would give you an order and try to make you disobey him. This time, when his hand fell away from your face, you forced yourself to keep your head tilted. You ignored that burning part of you that wanted to see his fingers pushing in and pulling out, covered in what was dripping from your pussy.

You focused on just feeling. One thick finger was slowly working you open for him, he always stretched you out as much as he could meaning you had to be prepared for some teasing. He prioritized this because he was big and he knew it—and you had been smitten enough before he fucked you, but after, there wasn’t a second of the day your body didn’t crave Andy’s.

Despite how rough Andy could be with you, and how generally tough he was, he liked to baby you. Sometimes, he liked treating you as delicately as one would a bouquet of flowers. He could see a lot of comparisons if he really thought about it. You were beautiful, soft, and smelled so sweet. And if he didn’t pay attention to you, well, he’d been reminded of those consequences at the party.

You kept your eyes on his the entire time. You didn’t falter when he added his second finger, nor when he curled his fingers against that spot inside you, nor when his thumb pressed down firmly on your clit.

He pressed one hand down on your shoulder, a cue to lie back. After you had obliged, he pulled his fingers out of you and told you to open your mouth. You instantly did so, closing around his fingers as soon as they were in your reach.

He pressed his fingers down and kept going until your body jerked and the noise of you gagging echoed in the room. “I wanna see those beautiful lips wrapped around my cock, baby girl.”

You eagerly sat up, still sucking on his fingers as you pulled his belt apart, yanked the button of his pants open, and tore down the zipper. Glancing up at him to look for any signs that you didn’t have his permission to proceed, you pushed his pants and boxers down cautiously until his cock was out.

He pulled his fingers from your mouth and nodded. “Go ahead, baby.”

You moved back on the bed and situated yourself onto your stomach, propping up on your elbows. One hand wrapped around his hard length and you let the tip of your tongue come out to catch the precum dripping from his tip.

He released a shaky breath, hands at his sides because he wanted you running the show. For a while, a least. He didn’t want to guide you, he wanted to see how exactly you were going to make up for your slight misstep at the party.

You ran your tongue up his shaft lightly, feigning that whole soft act that you knew he loved. It wasn’t so much an act, but you had been bent over his desk, hair pulled, ass spanked, both holes thoroughly used. But you liked soft, too. You liked slow and gentle mornings, whispered words, careful touching. You liked whatever he wanted to give you.

You closed your lips around just the head of his cock and sucked. Unlike all other men you had been with, Andy was as patient as a saint. He loved when you teased him. Once, he had you edge him with your mouth for nearly an hour and thinking about how he fucked you after still made your toes curl.

His eyes closed and he sighed. “Fuck, baby.” His hand lightly settled on the back of your head. “So good, I could fuck your mouth for the rest of my life.” He didn’t push you down, he just ran his hand through your hair over and over because he knew how much you liked him to play with your hair.

But then his hold tightened and he pulled you off, much to your dismay. He noted your pout and pleading eyes but was kind enough not to taunt you about them. “Get on your back, sweetheart.”

You knew what he wanted as soon as he stepped away. You quickly climbed up toward the edge of the bed and rolled over, bending your neck over the mattress. You automatically opened your mouth for him, but he placed his hands on your shoulders first.

“Relax.” He leaned over and ran his hands along your arms, setting them on the mattress. He pressed your thighs down, waiting until you had lost all the tension in your body. He curled his hand around his length and stroked several times with a loose hand and a slow pace.

You watched in utter fascination. It never failed to get you wet when Andy showed so much control, over himself, over you. He was in charge of every little thing and you could tell that he got off on that. Every time he reached the head of his cock, he would press down so slightly, so close to your lips but just not enough.

“Andy,” you whispered. “Please.”

He smirked again. “Open your mouth for me.” And as soon as you did, he was slowly sliding in. He was slow at first, keeping his hips still as he slipped the straps of your bralette past your shoulders. He rolled the remaining material down until your breasts were exposed and squeezed them in his hands.

You pressed your thighs together, arching up into his hands more. You tried to relax your throat for him, knowing he was only stopping to give you a moment to prepare.

He pinched your nipples painfully and didn’t stop until you whined. He loved feeling you make that sound when his cock was down your throat, and the deep breaths as the pain faded away. Again, he tortured your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, yanked a little, until you were squirming all around the bed, making these noises around him that he rarely ever heard, your eyes filled with tears.

He leaned over quickly, releasing your breasts so he could give them both a brief kiss. You closed your eyes, humming in satisfaction. He took his time sinking his teeth into your sore, erect nipples and you squealed both times, back arching again. His tongue rolled over your stinging skin and you tilted your head eagerly, attempting to take more of him.

Sometimes, it was enough to get him naturally high, how much power he had over you, your body. He could hurt you and you would thank him; he could turn around and give you just a second of gentleness and you looked at him like you’d never loved anyone as much as you loved him. You claimed that, quite often. Andy wasn’t sure if he believed that, not because he didn’t trust you but because he wasn’t wired to think of himself as special in any way. Why you treated him like he was, was confusing to him at times.

But you were special, so fucking special. You were smart and funny, and so kind to every single person you encountered. It was a nice change from the environment he regularly found himself in. That was what you were supposed to be—a breath of fresh air from his hard life. You were not supposed to become his only source of oxygen, yet there he was. It didn’t seem he was reliant on you because Andy wasn’t comfortable expressing reliance on anyone, but he knew he was.

He stood and watched your body move with those deep, sharp breaths you were taking. Abruptly, his hand whipped across one breast, then the other. You cried out, a nice vibration around him, and now you were quivering. It was so easy for him to play your body like this because you were just needy enough that anything would have given you pleasure. Another thing he knew, another thing that made him so damn cocky.

“Open your legs,” he told you and you parted your thighs. Again, he pulled aside your lace panties and pushed two of his fingers inside you. Your cunt was dripping, your arousal gushing out as his fingers thrust in, curled, searched for that spot that made your eyes roll back. The noise of it made his cock twitch.

Your pussy was throbbing, yearning for the release that only this man could give you. You didn’t care how he did it, you just needed Andy. Hands, mouth, cock, you would take anything he wanted you to have.

“Listen to that greedy pussy,” he directed, voice low and quiet. “So desperate to be filled and fucked. But by who, baby?”

Your stomach twisted at not being able to answer him. That was why he asked when you had your mouth full of him, because if you could speak, you would blurt out reassurances that it was only him.

“Me?” he pressed.

You spoke, despite knowing it was going to sound like nonsense.

“And no one else?”

You were quick with your denial. And maybe, by now, since his cock was always in your mouth, he was a professional at understanding what you were saying. Or possibly, it was just the look in your eyes.

“You sure, baby?”

Once more, your voice came out muffled but hurried, almost panicked. He had to know that you didn’t even think about anyone else. He had to know that you thought he was the most beautiful man in the world.

He dragged his free hand up your body and it settled over your neck. Finally, he pulled out from your mouth only to thrust back in harshly. You choked, your throat contracting around him while he massaged his thumb and finger over your pulse points. He let you breathe through it before he started rocking his hips ever so slightly. You could feel him moving along your tongue and your cheeks, but they were small motions.

You always loved this position; it was easier to take all of him. It was easier to breathe on your back with your chest open, and, unlike being on your knees, it left you open for him.

He leaned forward slightly, pressing one hand off to the side of the bed while the other reached between your legs. His fingers danced along your skin without any real intent, but occasionally, he would touch your clit.

You were reaching for any part of him you could touch. Your hands mindlessly grasped at his back and kept slipping off because of his shirt. You couldn���t ask but you wanted it off. He felt your hands working open his buttons and decided to let you have something. He was going to take and take tonight, he could give you a little.

He stood up and loosened his tie enough to pull it off, then shrugged his shirt off. Once again, his palm settled to your neck. “You should see yourself right now. Shaking, wet, such a good girl.”

You reached up, gripping one hand in his pants, the other around the buckle of his belt and you pulled him in more until your throat was struggling.

“Easy, baby.” He took your hands off him, keeping a hold of one and placing the next back down on the bed. He pulled out carefully, dragging his hand up, and inch by inch, pushed back in. “You should see how deep I’m getting. I can see it right here.” The palm of his hand hovered over your skin, just enough that you could feel him, and he followed his cock again, letting you know how much of him you were taking.

It was a lot of him, not enough. And he was deep, but you needed more. You whined, a plea for him to move this along. He couldn’t want to drag this out, not after almost 18 days.

Again, he leaned over until he could touch you. His hips moved steadily, a controlled move that matched how strategically he was working your cunt, everywhere but the most sensitive part of you.

You hated that you couldn’t beg, but it wasn’t as if he didn’t know. It wasn’t as if you weren’t shaking or if your cunt wasn’t clenching desperately, you knew if he couldn’t feel it, he could at least see it. This went on for several moments, he was proud of how well you were taking him, and wanted to give you some type of award.

You were more than just caught off guard when you felt his lips against one of your thighs. Fuck. He couldn’t, you wouldn’t last long. But he went on, scattering kisses over your thighs, fucking your mouth just a fraction harder as he grew closer to your pussy.

As he licked down from your clit to your entrance, your eyes rolled back. Your hips jumped off the bed and one of his hands held you down in response. You were trembling, whining utter nonsense.

Several times, his tongue ran through you and you’d been so worked up, so wet and frustrated since he’d pulled you out of the party, since he hadn’t fucked you in a while, and this was just happening too fast. You wanted to focus on him, you wanted to apologize in the best way you knew how.

You tried to push him back with your hands on his thighs, but you were nowhere near strong enough.

He turned his head to kiss your thigh again. His hips stilled, most of his cock out of your mouth just in case. “Do you need a moment, baby?”

You debated. If you actually made him stop, made him pull out even if just for a second solely so you could ask him not to make you come...he would be outraged. He might even turn you over and spank you. But he also might not let you come at all. You would die, you knew you would.

You let your hands fall away.

“You okay?”

You hummed slowly, comfortably.

Still, one hand settled on your hip bone to keep you from moving, the other you felt on the back of your thigh close to your ass. He kissed your pussy slowly, sucking at your skin just a little, but not your clit, not yet.

He was careful as he began fucking your mouth again, worried he had pushed you too far. He waited until he was sure you were okay before he sucked your clit between his lips and slipped two fingers into you.

You whined around him as your body shuddered.

He kissed you again, several times to get you to calm down. “It’s okay, baby girl. Be a good girl for me.”

So, you understood, he realized that you wanted to object to this, but Andy was the greediest man you had ever had in bed. You weren’t surprised that he just didn’t care. You found it hard to mind as he began fucking his fingers in and out of you, sloppy, wet noises echoing around the room.

He was sucking again and you were desperately clutching at any part of him you could, his sides, his legs. You weren’t pushing him away now, you were pulling him in.

You were so close, your body arching up as much as it could. You felt tension building in every part of your body. Your own hands came up to your breasts mostly because you knew he would feel your hands moving underneath him.

“Fuck,” he cursed. He left your cunt neglected of his mouth for several moments, only using his fingers, as his cock drove down your throat hard.

You were choking loudly, your body again moving wildly as you gagged. It couldn’t have been more than a few times but they were determined thrusts, you were sure he was going to come in your mouth.

Instead, he pulled out completely and you whined shortly. You didn’t want him to go, but you couldn’t say that. All you could do was try to catch your breath. He didn’t even give you a moment to protest before his face was buried in your cunt.

In seconds, you were a mewling, moaning mess for him. Your body was so tight, so full of unbearable tension. You were shaking, sweating, your pussy was loud and soaking wet and you knew you were dripping everywhere, on him, on the bed.

He didn’t tease, he wanted to let you come because he wanted you coming all night. His favorite form of punishment was too much of a good thing, not withholding how much he enjoyed touching you.

You finished with a scream loud enough that the neighbors probably heard. Again.

Andy touched you through it until you stopped moving, save for the shaking aftershocks when he got a tad too close to your clit. When you were loose and sated on the bed, he started to sit you up.

You quickly turned to him, grasping his face. “I love you, only you.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

“I would never look at anyone else.”

“I believe you.” Even if he didn’t, this was not the place to voice that. This...state he got you in when he was this dominant, this demanding, was not completely unlike you. It was just a very obedient, sensitive version of you that he knew he had to be careful with. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt your feelings.

He touched your face and that was when you realized you were crying, he was wiping away your tears. It was either from your finish or from choking on him, you weren’t completely sure. “You’re okay?”

You nodded quickly. “I’m okay.”

He kissed your forehead and you felt hot. As if what you two were just doing wasn’t filthy, this was what made your heart beat faster and gave you those butterflies in your stomach.

He pulled back and kept hold of your face. “What does my baby girl want?”

“I want to feel you inside me.”

As his lips met yours, he began removing all the remaining clothing on either of your bodies. He moved you up the bed until he could lay your head on a pillow and then positioned himself over you.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he promised. “Keep saying it.”

As he carefully pushed into you, you continued to tell him you love him. You stared at him the whole time, willing your body to relax for him. He didn’t like it when you got so worked up, especially over the games he played in the bedroom. The thing with Neal was bad but it was over and you knew he wasn’t mad at you. He wouldn’t fuck you like this if he was.

You clutched onto his shoulders, trying to hold him as close to you as you possibly could. He was the one that grabbed your legs and cued you to wrap them around his body. His cock sliding into your pussy was a feeling you couldn’t understand why he’d left you deprived of.

Once his hips were settled against your thighs and he was completely buried inside you, you reached up to his face. You loved his cheekbones, you could trace them with your touch for days if he let you. And his beard, you loved feeling his beard under your fingertips.

He let you do this, explore him as if you could possibly forget anything after all the other times you did it. You remembered the first time he fucked you, you couldn’t stop staring, you couldn’t stop touching—he was so painfully beautiful. He was so patient with you, always had been, and now, despite how badly you felt his need to move, to fuck you, he was going to wait for you to be ready.

“You did this on purpose,” you muttered.

“Did what?”

“You didn’t fuck me. For 17 days. You…wanted me to make a scene—”

“That’s a pretty serious accusation.”

“I could take it to court and win,” you countered.

He smirked. “Could you? What’s my motive?”

“You like being possessive. You like dragging me out of places, you like bringing me home, you like reminding me who I belong to.”

“And were you reminded?”

“No one really belongs to anyone or anything at the end of the day—”

“No,” he interjected, tone sharp. You always liked that tone. “You belong to me.”

“Maybe…”

“You are mine,” he repeated. “And you’re going to say it or we’re going to have a long night.”

“I will say it if you admit this was your plan all along.”

“You think I wanted you to flirt with Neal?”

Your stomach flipped. “I wasn’t—”

He nodded, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I know, I didn’t mean to word it like that. I know you weren’t—”

You felt slightly like you were about to panic. Flirting with Neal? No. “Never, I would never—”

He shushed you. “I know, baby. I know you wouldn’t because you are a good girl. I promise I know that.”

You settled somewhat but that lingering feeling in the pit of your stomach was hard to ignore. Flirting with Neal? You couldn’t bear him thinking you would ever do that to him. Flirting in general with people Andy felt indifferent to was off the table unless you wanted to placate his desires. Certainly, he had to know that.

“I wanted to hear you beg,” he insisted. “That was what I wanted. I wanted honest begging because you are so fucking beautiful begging for my cock.”

You huffed. “Well, you should have asked.”

“I didn’t want to have to ask.”

“You could have given me a hint. I was going around your party trying to get your attention—”

“You had it, you always do. Now, tell me who you belong to.”

“I think we all belong to the stars.”

“No,” he sighed.

“Or the moon, people who experience menstruation especially. The moon controls us, it’s been studied by scientists. There are articles.”

“Scientific articles do not support that,” he asserted and you couldn’t help but laugh. Andy was exact. He didn’t believe in anything he couldn’t see or that couldn’t be proven. Even now, inside you, he couldn’t turn that part of his brain off.

“Baby,” he sighed as his hand came up to curl around your neck. It just rested there, a heavy reminder of all the times in the past he had held you like that, or those other times when he applied just the right amount of pressure. “I want to fuck you, I want to make you cry, I want you to be shaking after I’m done with you, I want to fill you up with my cum. Don’t you want that?”

You nodded, once again turned on beyond comprehension.

“Then be good and say what I want you to say. Don’t make me make you say it.”

“What if I want you to make me?”

“You don’t.”

Andy’s punishments were always so elaborate and such a blur. He knew how to reduce you to nothing but need, and you needed him so badly sometimes. He loved seeing you like that, but he didn’t always like taking you there. He knew how careful he needed to be during and after, so he reserved it for major misbehavior.

You brought one hand up and set it on his forearm. You could feel his skin and his muscles. “I belong to you.”

Just barely, as he stared at your face, his hold tightened. Your breath stuttered but you made sure not to get too worked up too soon. You didn’t want him to have to stop before he finished inside you.

“That can never happen again, baby.”

“I know. It never will. I’m so—”

He tightened his hand again. “Don’t say sorry.”

You didn’t understand why he wouldn’t let you say the one word you so badly needed to say.

“I don’t blame you, sweetheart, I’m just saying…it can’t happen again.”

You caught the lead of his tone. “But what if it does?”

“I might have to make sure he knows that you’re mine.”

You wanted him to let the whole world know. You knew he saw your eyes light up because he smirked. “How would you do that?”

“I might have to let him see how I fuck you. I might have to show him how I can make you beg for me, or how willingly you bend over when I’m going to spank you. I might have to show him how wet you get after I mark up your ass, maybe how whiny you get when my hand is around your throat. But maybe I’ll just have to send him the video I’ve been recording tonight, how well you can suck my cock, how badly you want to.”

You were stunned for a moment—recording? Where was the camera? The idea of Andy recording you was such a turn on. You loved making videos for him, but you’d always wanted to see one where he was with you. “You’ve been recording?”

“Would you be okay with that if I was?”

“Yes. I want to watch you fuck me.”

“You’re such a good girl.” He pulled his hips back once and then snapped up noisily, pulling a moan from your throat. “You know how much I love that sound? When you can hardly breathe but you still make all those noises you know I want to hear.”

He leaned in to kiss you, hips stilled, hand still wrapped around your neck. It was brief, a reward, a reminder. You were being good and he loved you, but he was going to fuck you.

You broke away, nodding to let him know you were ready, that you wanted this. “Please.”

He rolled over so you were on top of him. He kept his hold on your neck to keep you sitting up and used his opposite hand to grab your ass. After he kneaded your skin hard enough he knew it would bruise, he spanked you loudly, harshly. Your body jerk forward, taking him in deeper than you knew was possible.

You whined, trying to pull back a little. He gripped your ass again and held you there. It was painful but exciting, you wanted him to push your limits tonight. He so rarely did, concerned with pleasing you second and treating you delicate first.

He let you go only to spank your other ass cheek. Again, you moved forward and you felt fuller than you ever had. You ached between your legs, almost uncomfortably but the idea of having him this deep in your body was making you wetter by the second. You were dripping, you could see how wet his skin was, how much of a mess he was making of your pussy.

“Ride me, sweetheart.”

You found a comfortable position, your hands on either side of his waist in the mattress. He settled his arm between your breasts so he could still see them moving as you began jerking your hips back and forth. They were sharp, abrupt movements because you wanted to come so bad, you could hardly think of anything else. Save for your disbelief over the fact that he was making you do this yourself. But you didn’t argue because the last thing you wanted was punishment for talking back.

He closed his hand more, every sound you made was short and strangled. You moved faster, knowing he was closer when he choked you harder. His free hand took one of your breasts. He was so delicate at first, a gentle, slow touch before he was pinching your nipple so hard you were whining. He smacked your breast and you shuddered, nearly falling forward onto him, but he kept you up. Mostly because he wanted to do it again to your other breast.

Every slap against your breasts—loud and stinging, always surprising because he didn’t want you to have the comfort of a pattern—was pushing you closer to your orgasm. You were mindlessly bouncing on his cock, uncaring of the pain you felt every time you came down just a little too hard for how big he was. You felt like an animal, like you were simply a victim to your body’s depraved, primal desires.

You finished first, screaming things you would be impressed if he actually understood. You could cry, the tension built over days was finally all gone.

He rolled over once more, taking his spot on top again.

You clung to him, legs and arms, pulling him in like you would die if he wasn’t close enough. You needed to feel his whole body against yours.

“Hear that, baby?”

Oh, you heard. You’d been trying to ignore it, but of course, not if Andy had any say in it.

“Hear how wet your pussy is?”

So wet. Every time he pulled out and pushed in, the noise would fill the room. You only nodded.

Since you were wrapped around him so tightly, it wasn’t difficult for him to grab your hip and move you up the bed with him. He set you against the headboard, the pillows under the small of your back, propping you up for him.

He was on his knees now for more leverage. You knew he was going to fuck you hard. “Look at this, baby.” He slowly pulled out and you turned down to watch. “See how messy you’re getting my cock?”

“Yes,” you whined.

He grabbed his cock, used it to drag up and down your cunt several times.

“Andy, please.”

He shushed you, a slow, calm action that contrasted when he smacked the head of his cock against your clit.

You gasped and your hips jerked forward.

“Stay still,” he warned.

He did it over and over, and enjoyed watching you fail at trying to stay seated on the bed. He thrust in completely, quick and hard, only to pull out and smack your clit again. This was his routine for what felt like an agonizing hour, but you knew it was nowhere near that long. You knew even he didn’t have that kind of patience.

You cried out when he finally buried himself inside you again. As he pushed forward, he pulled you down. His fingers found your clit and you were soon tumbling over that edge once more.

As he finished, he pulled you on top of him, lying back on the bed. One arm wrapped tight around your back to pin you against his chest, his opposite hand tangled in your hair tightly. He hid his face in the bend of your neck, grunting as his hips continued to rock just slightly.

He kept you there for several long moments until he had completely satisfied himself. You were intoxicated being this close to him. You angled your head as much as you could and kissed the side of his face.

He turned over, setting you on the bed as he pulled out. You watched him curiously, moving to sit up with him. He made a disapproving noise and you laid back again. Once again, he made his way to the dresser and grabbed his phone.

“You were seriously recording?”

He arched an eyebrow. “Do I usually bluff?”

Nope, never.

“Now I have a reference if you ever forget how a good girl is supposed to act.”

You suppressed an eye roll.

“Open your legs.” He came closer, directing the camera at your pussy. He touched you, spreading his cum all over your skin, rubbing circles around your clit, just barely dipping his fingers into you.

You watched his face the whole time. You loved how much Andy loved you and when he stared at you after fucking you, it was hard to miss. He was obsessed with you and he never minded showing it.

For almost a month, you watched that video every day. You were fascinated by him, the way he moved, the way he touched you. After that, you started wanting to record more and Andy never minded.

requests to be tagged:

@onetwo3000​ @chris-evans-indian-fanfic​ @donutloverxo​ @kleohoneyao3​ @cevans-fics​

[the-marauders-enthusiast]

I’ve Fallen in Love With My Best Friend - James P. x Reader

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Word count: 1.6k

Summary: There’s an Amortentia lesson in Potions one day, and y/n feels confident that her best friend and crush, James Potter, didn’t like her back, as he has his heart reserved for Lily Evans. James also believes he’s in love with Lily, but things change when he smells someone else in the Amortentia. 

-

Walking into Professor Slughorn's class, you noticed the other students were perked up, excited for the lesson. You sat down, confused, until you saw the potion on Slughorn's desk, which you immediately noticed was Amortentia. Like your other classmates, you also felt eager for the lesson to start.

Suddenly you heard some people stumble into the room, instantly recognizing  them as your best friends, James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter. You smiled at James, seeing him scan his eyes around the room to find you. You waved your hand, calling him over to sit next to you. He grinned and walked over to the desk, sitting in the seat. "Good morning y/n!" he greeted kindly. He then looked around the classroom, his face morphing to a confused look when he noticed the buzzing excitement in the room. "Why is everyone so chipper today?" he asked. You then pointed at the potion on Slughorn's desk, "I'm guessing we're doing a lesson on Amortentia today." He was about to ask was Amortentia was, but was interrupted when Slughorn started talking.

"Good morning class, today we will be learning about Amortentia! Now, does anyone know what that is?" He questioned. You raised your hand quickly, and smiled when he called on you. "Amortentia is known as the world's most powerful love potion, and smells different to each person, as it's supposed to smell like whatever you love most."

"Perfect Ms. y/l/n! 10 points to y/h." you grinned proudly. You then heard Sirius' voice behind you, "Well I don't think prongs needs to smell it, we all know what it's gonna be!" He teased, James saying a lighthearted "shut up!" in return.

You knew what Sirius was talking about, of course. It was common knowledge that James was head over heels for Lily Evans, how could he not? In your eyes, she was everything that you wanted to be. Lily was gorgeous, popular, but most of all, she had James' attention. You've been in love with James about the same amount of time hes been in love with lily, and it hurt. It hurt being in love with someone who was so painfully obviously in love with someone else. Suddenly you weren't as excited for the lesson as you were before, as you weren't exactly thrilled to hear James talk about Lily's scent in the potion.

Slughorn started to call people up to smell the potion, and you waited your turn, watching them quickly walk to the desk when their name was called.

"Ms. y/l/n?" You snapped your head up. Everyone's eyes were suddenly on you, although the only ones that mattered were the hazel ones staring next to you. You started to get nervous, walking to the potion on the desk. Once there, you smelled the mixture.

broomstick polish, cologne, and freshly cut grass.

You rolled your eyes smiling, you had very clearly smelt one James Fleamont Potter. what a shocker, you thought. You gave a quick thanks to Professor Slughorn and sat back down, too embarrassed to share what you smelt with the class.

a few people went after you, and then James was called up. He smiled as the other marauders teased him. He confidently walked to the potion, grinning widely. Looking very sure of himself, he swiftly smelt the Amortentia. Then he suddenly had a puzzled expression on his face, quickly shifting to a frown. You started to feel worried as he nodded at Slughorn and quickly walked back to his seat. You instantly turned to him, "James are you okay?". His eyes widened dramatically, "What? oh yeah, I'm fine.", he replied quickly, avoiding your eyes. You frowned and turned back to the class.

When the lesson ended he practically ran out of the room, the other pranksters following quickly, looking ready for an interrogation. You just stared at the seat he was just sitting at, wondering what could have happened for him to act like that.

-

After that potions lesson, James had started avoiding you. Hed constantly make sure he didn't run into you, avoid your eye contact, sit far away from you at all times, and practically pretend you didn't exist. Any time you tried to talk to him, he would just brush you off, giving some lame excuse. It was as if the two of you had never been friends.

- "Hey James, do you wanna go to Hogsmeade this weekend with the others?"

"Sorry, I need to catch up on homework."

- " James! Wanna go to the library together after class?"

"I already have plans, sorry y/n."

- "Hey wanna go to the Quidditch pitch and practice?"

"Uh sorry y/n, maybe another time."

After a couple weeks of the neglect, your concern and confusion had turned into anger. What had you done to make him avoid you? And why couldn't he just talk to you about it? At this point, you had gotten fed up. You were walking to the Great Hall for dinner, and saw your friends about to walk in. Before a certain stag could enter, you grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back to face you.

"Oi! What are you- y/n!" He had a panicked expression, not expecting you to be the one who pulled him back. You made sure the other marauders were gone before dragging James to an empty corridor.

"What's your problem!" he asked exasperatedly, which made you scowl angrily.

"My problem?! You're the problem you idiot!"

He frowned, about to defend himself but you stopped him before he could.

"You've been avoiding me like the plague for weeks!"

"No I have-"

"Don't even try to deny it! I thought we were friends James."

"We are friends!"

"Then why have you been pretending like i dont exist!?" You shouted, feeling all of your anger bubble to the surface. James raised his eyebrows, shocked at the anger in your voice. you felt tears start to brim your eyes, "...is it me? Did i do something wrong?" Your voice had lowered, filled with fear, and you felt a tear roll down your face.

His gaze softened, "No, y/n, its not you", He said reassuringly. You felt more tears fall onto your cheeks.

"It just feels like I'm losing you James." You looked down at your feet. He lifted your chin to make you look up at him. "You could never lose me, y/n", he said with a pained expression.

Your brows threaded together, "Then whats wrong? Why haven't you been talking to me?"

He's silent for a few moments before finally finding the words.

"...I was scared", He whispered.

You frowned, "Of what?"

"My feelings. I've been so confused-"

"James i don't understand-"

"Please, just let me explain", he said nervously. You nodded, letting him continue.

"..For so long.. I thought it was Lily. I thought she was the one for me. I've been chasing after her for so long.. I was so sure that she was it for me. And then that Amortentia lesson happened. I was so confident it would smell like her.. but it didnt", he looked down and twiddled his thumbs, "It was you."

Your eyes widened, "James-"

"Just listen. I smelled you in the Amortentia. And for days after I was so confused about my feelings - feelings for Lily and for you. But the more I thought about it the more it made sense, and i started realizing how i truly feel. I used Lily as a distraction from the one person I actually loved, because I didn't know how to deal with those feelings. Because the truth is, I didn't know how to deal with the fact that I had fallen in love with my best friend... I love you y/n. It's always been you." He wore a pained expression, "And im so, so sorry i didnt realize it sooner."

You stared at him in surprise, well that's definitley not what I thought he was gonna say.

He grew worried at your silence, "Please say something." He pleaded, which seemed to pull you out of your stupor.

"Broomstick polish, cologne, and freshly cut grass", you stated.

He squinted in confusion, "What?"

"That's what I smelled in the Amortentia.. It smelled like you." He opened his mouth in surprise and you continued, "I love you James. I've loved you for so long, and I can't tell you how happy it makes me to hear you say you feel the same way."

James' face brightened, and he pulled you into a bone crushing hug. When he pulled away from it, you noticed how close his face had gotten to yours, and it seemed james did too. He slowly moved his hand to grasp the side of your face, body moving closer as he placed his other hand on your waist.

"Can i kiss you?" He whispered.

You nodded, feeling heat rising up your neck and closing your eyes in anticipation. You felt his face inch closer, and he softy placed his lips on yours. Your hands immediately threaded through his dark curls, and you kiss him harder. You feel him pushing you back against the wall, the hand on your cheek moving down to your collarbone.

The kiss started to get a little more heated, but then you hear a voice across the corridor, causing you and James to separate and look toward the source of the noise.

"Ah! So dinner and a show!" Sirius laughed, Remus and Peter chuckling next to him.

"Oi, shove off" James says, smiling at them.

"But seriously, we're glad to see you too catching up again." Remus added.

"Thank you guys", you say fondly.

You look back at James, "I'm glad too.” you grinned at him softly before looking back at the group, “Alright can we go to the Great Hall now, I'm starving."

Sirius chuckles, "I didn't think you'd be hungry after eating eachother's faces off"

"Shove it padfoot."

[robininthelabyrinth]

My fav MDZS stories are ones where Mo Xuanyu lives and WWX takes him under his wing when the Sacrifice Summons goes slightly wrong. I would love to see your version of this au bc your writing is very very good and I've fallen in love. However you want to character MXY is fine, but I know you'll make him compelling.

also on ao3 because long

“It’s not wrong if you write it down,” Mo Xuanyu muttered to himself like a mantra as he scribbled down a rough explanation of what he was going to do. “If you write it down, it’s just an experiment, and that makes it okay.”

That’s what they used to say back at Koi Tower. Not all of them, no – most people didn’t talk to him, stupid shy useless stuttering bastard that he was.

But Jin Guangyao had smiled at him, smiled the way he smiled at everyone no matter how lowly, and Mo Xuanyu, flattered at the unfamiliar feeling of positive familial attention, had tentatively smiled back. That had been a mistake, of course, but he hadn’t realized it at the time – he was still young, then.

He hadn’t been crazy, then.

(Had he? He didn’t remember. The screaming nightmares weren’t until later, after he’d swallowed down that medicine that Jin Guangyao gave to him, that he’d forced down his throat with Xue Yang holding his shoulders down – they’d been regretful about it, he remembered that. That’d been nice. No one’d ever been sorry about what they’d done to him before. Or after, for that matter.)

That came later, though. Towards the end. The experiments – that was earlier, wasn’t it?

Yes. Back when Jin Guangyao still thought he might be useful, and he let him follow him around; back before Xue Yang had disappeared – wait, if Xue Yang had disappeared, who’d held him down? – back when he still called him Xue-gege because Xue Yang thought it was funny, and if he did that he could sit around in a place where no one would find him and watch while Xue Yang did…stuff.

Usually bad stuff.

Still, it was better than being anywhere else in Koi Tower. With Madame Jin, who hated him and threw things at him, just like Auntie Mo did, and his father who wanted him to talk about girls (Mo Xuanyu didn’t know anything about girls), and all the people who giggled at him and talked about him behind their sleeves as if he couldn’t still hear them.

If you write it down, it’s just an experiment, Jin Guangyao told him, smiling, because he always smiled. That’s why what Xue Yang does is okay.

Xue Yang taught him the basics of drawing arrays, how to hold the brush in your hand and push spiritual energy into it. Mo Xuanyu didn’t have very much, so it made him very tired and then he dropped the brush; that made Xue Yang laugh at him, push him down until his face was on the ground so he could get a better look at what he was drawing, and then he got bored and pulled him back up to try again.

It was still better than being taught by the Jin sect cultivators who sneered at him and ordered him to get hit with boards any time he made a mistake, and Mo Xuanyu made a lot of mistakes.

Mo Xuanyu didn’t like to talk to people much, wasn’t very good at it. Wasn’t much good for anything, really.

Except this, he supposed. This was something he could do.

Xue Yang taught him the basics of drawing arrays, but it was only ever the basics – as soon as he figured out how to do it, Jin Guangyao took over the teaching, and he only ever wanted Mo Xuanyu to learn one array in specific.

It didn’t have a name. It was an ancient, forbidden technique; those didn’t get names. Jin Guangyao’d found it in a book, hidden on an abandoned old mountain – a place where lots of people died in a battle a long time ago, and then again not so long ago – and he’d thought it was just right for Mo Xuanyu.

The array required blood, blood of the caster, incisions all over – painful ones – and the point of it was to offer up your body to some extremely villainous ghoul so that it could take revenge for you.

“But I don’t want revenge,” he’d told Jin Guangyao, plaintive and naïve. “And I don’t know any villainous ghouls.”

“You don’t have to ask for revenge,” Jin Guangyao had told him, patient. He was always patient when he wanted something. “You can ask for something else, if you want. Revenge is just the usual reason.”

“Not many things besides revenge are worth sacrificing your soul for,” Xue Yang had opined, and Jin Guangyao had glared at him like he’d said something stupid. “What? It’s true.”

“We’ll discuss the Chang clan later, Chengmei. I was talking to Xuanyu.”

Mo Xuanyu had been poking at the manuscripts, feeling doubtful, and Xue Yang’d huffed and grabbed them. “Don’t touch the papers! Wei Wuxian didn’t leave much behind; I’m not losing the bit we got.”

“Wei Wuxian,” Mo Xuanyu had said, feeling the weight of it on his tongue. He didn’t know much, but even he’d heard about the Yiling Patriarch. “Is he the villainous ghoul you want me to summon?”

“No,” Xue Yang’d giggled. “He wants you to bring back Nie Mingjue.”

Mo Xuanyu hadn’t known that name – he really didn’t know anything – but the weeks that Jin Guangyao thought that he could one day become him were probably the best in his life. He’d never been petted or coaxed before, never been treated so well; he ate nice food every day, wore nice clothing, slept as late as he liked, took lots of baths…Jin Guangyao wanted his body to be in good condition before he did the ritual. He gave him lotions to make his skin feel soft, used medicine to nourish his organs, spent hours and hours teaching him to braid his hair the way the Nies did, all complicated and pretty yet practical.

(“He’ll hate it so much,” Jin Guangyao whispered in his ear on the nights he let Mo Xuanyu share his pillow. “Soft and decadent and weak – you’ve got the weakest golden core I’ve ever seen, Xuanyu, weaker even than me, and you’re too useless to even have any ambition to make it stronger. I could push you down with one hand, overpower you, make you crawl…no one will ever be scared of you. Let’s see how much you like being the weak one, da-ge.”)

It’d only been when the ritual failed – not just once, but many times, no matter how many cuts Mo Xuanyu made on his arms or how well he painted the array – that Jin Guangyao had given up on Mo Xuanyu.

They hadn’t been able to figure out why it wasn’t working, back then, but now Mo Xuanyu thought that maybe he just hadn’t wanted it enough back then. He’d wanted to make Jin Guangyao happy, yes, and he hadn’t really cared what it cost to do it – Jin Guangyao’s arguments that he was useless and pointless, his life worthless, and so he might as well do something useful with his death were pretty convincing – but he hadn’t wanted it.

He wanted it now, though.

Something worth sacrificing your soul – it really could only be revenge, couldn’t it? Xue-gege knew what he was talking about. Revenge was something you needed, something that ate away at your soul until sacrificing it was the only thing left to be done with it, and that, that, was what was going to make the ritual work this time.

Mo Xuanyu was going to get revenge. Revenge on Auntie Mo, on Master Mo, on Mo Ziyuan, on A-Tong…they deserved it. He hated them. He hated what they did to him and how often they did it, he hated that this was his life and that nothing would ever get better, he hated hated hated…!

(“You don’t have to do this,” the young sect leader surnamed Nie had told him when they’d had tea for the last time. He’d bought Mo Xuanyu the cosmetics he liked – he’d offered to buy him something nicer, but Mo Xuanyu had his preferences; the expensive stuff didn’t feel heavy and greasy on his face, didn’t make him feel like he’d painted himself into being somebody else, someone braver. “Just so you know.”

“I know,” Mo Xuanyu’d said. Sect Leader Nie had come to ask him for any information he had about Jin Guangyao. He didn’t say why, but – Nie, Mo Xuanyu’d thought to himself, Nie like Nie Mingjue – he hadn’t been at all expecting to hear the story Mo Xuanyu’d had to tell him. He hadn’t been the one to suggest the ritual, that’d been Mo Xuanyu – he hated, hated, hated – but Mo Xuanyu never did learn the name of any of those extremely villainous ghouls so he’d asked him for a suggestion.

He’d suggested Wei Wuxian, and that’d made Mo Xuanyu giggle to the point of hysterics. Don’t touch the papers, Wei Wuxian didn’t leave much behind – oh, Xue-gege, you’d think this was so funny!)

“Gotta write it down,” he said to himself as he made the cuts and drew the array: it was already starting to glow in a way it hadn’t any of the other times he’d done it, and it wasn’t that he’d gotten any stronger. “Writing it down makes it okay…”

He went to get some paper, and that’s when the cat came in. A big old fisher cat, vicious and mean.

And, well, Jin Guangyao and Xue Yang were always talking about how you’re supposed to try stuff out before you do the real thing – practice makes perfect, that’s what they always said, until the day Jin Guangyao got tired of Xue Yang’s practice and made him disappear, and after that it wasn’t all that long until the day that he got tired of Mo Xuanyu, too, and made the sect kick him out.

(They said he was a cutsleeve, which was true, and they said he’d attacked Jin Guangyao, which was laughable – wasn’t Jin Guangyao the one who was always commenting on how weak Mo Xuanyu was? But that was after he drank the medicine that came with the nightmares and the weird spasms and the rest of it, and it wasn’t as if anyone in Koi Tower had ever listened to anything he said even before that.)

He wasn’t actually going to do anything bad to the cat. He just wanted to use it to make sure he got the markings all done right; it wasn’t as if the array would actually work, not without him in the middle – this array ran on resentment, on revenge, and how much resentment could a cat have?

Apparently Mo Xuanyu’d underestimated cats, or possibly his array-drawing skills, or maybe even it was only that he’d poured so much hatred into the array that when he put the cat down in the middle to see if the positioning was right the whole thing exploded right in Mo Xuanyu’s face.

He woke up to Mo Ziyuan kicking him and yelling about how dare he report him to his parents (he hadn’t reported anything, just asked for his stuff back, he hadn’t even meant to do that because he knew it was pointless but they’d asked what he was thinking about and it had just slipped out) while A-Tong broke all his stuff, but that was pretty normal so he didn’t think too much about it.

The cat leaping for Mo Ziyuan’s face, howling something that sounded an awful lot like the words fuck you except sort of halfway into being a cat’s meow, was new.

Kind of funny, too.

Mo Xuanyu giggled and lay back down on the floor while Mo Ziyuan ran out, crying for his mother, with A-Tong right on his heels as always.

The cat made its way back over to him and jumped up on his chest, looking down at him. It was a pretty handsome cat, now that Mo Xuanyu was looking at it: long and black, with white on its chest and like little socks on its forepaws, a noble appearance that had been concealed by the messy state of its fur.

“I’m sorry I accidentally nearly sacrificed you to a villainous ghoul,” Mo Xuanyu said to it.

“Who told you that I’m a villainous ghoul?” the cat said back. “You couldn’t find another wandering ghost as harmless as me!”

Mo Xuanyu was crazy, yes, but it wasn’t – it wasn’t that type of crazy. He had fits that sent him down to the floor, limbs thrashing crazily; he had days in which he wanted to do nothing but die; screaming nightmares at night and sometimes during the day, hearing and seeing things that weren’t there…

This was still new.

“Did you just talk?” he checked.

“You bet I talked,” the cat said. “Now tell me, how in the world did you manage to offer up the body of a cat? That’s not how that ritual’s supposed to work!”

“It was supposed to be my body, Master Cat,” Mo Xuanyu explained. “But they said that you should always try something out first –”

“First off, you shouldn’t be sacrificing yourself either,” the cat said. “That’s your soul you’re talking about – the ritual just says the soul goes back to the earth, but what if it destroys it entirely? You could’ve been doomed never to reincarnate!”

“That sounds restful,” Mo Xuanyu said wistfully.

“…you have serious issues. You know that, right?”

“Yes, Master Cat.”

“Stop calling me ‘Master Cat’. You know my name, you can use it.”

Mo Xuanyu blinked, long and slow. “But I don’t know your name? You were just the stray that lived out back behind the grocer…”

“I’m Wei Wuxian! You summoned me here and offered me a body!”

Mo Xuanyu hadn’t realized it’d worked. “Does that mean you won’t help me get revenge?” he asked, disappointed.

“I don’t exactly have much of a choice, do I?” The cat – Wei Wuxian – huffed. “That stupid ritual…how many cuts do you have?”

“Four,” Mo Xuanyu said automatically, except when he checked they were about half-there, half-gone, and after a little bit of investigating it looked like the other half of them were echoed in appropriately parallel locations on Wei Wuxian’s fuzzy feline body. “Oops.”

“Oops, he says,” Wei Wuxian said, but he already sounded cheerful again. “Seems like you bound our souls together when you brought me back – probably because there were too many souls in the center of the array, once you added in the cat. Anyway, don’t count me out – two legs or four, I can still help you get revenge. Who on, by the way?”

Mo Xuanyu tried to explain. He wasn’t very good at it, tongue tripping over his words as he tried to put into words why he hated them so much that the idea of killing them had possessed him in every one of his three souls and seven spirits, and it all sounded really stupid when he said it so he went off on a tangent and explained how his father had wanted to use him but he was too useless for that, and his half-brother wanted to kill him but he was too useless for that, and his family just wanted him to die, but –

“Too useless for that,” Wei Wuxian said, and his ears were pinned back against his head with his hackles raised and fur all puffed up all over. “Yeah, I got the gist. Okay. I’m sold. Let’s kill ‘em.”

“Really?”

“…I’m actually pretty bad at cold-blooded murder, even if the people you want me to kill do sound like scum. Hmm. Maybe we could just cause them a lot of trouble? A lot of trouble?”

“That seems like a bad idea,” Mo Xuanyu said doubtfully.

It was, if only because Mo Xuanyu was about as terrible at causing a disaster as he was at anything else.

Wei Wuxian ran off into the main greeting hall and started knocking things around, bellowing unconvincing meows as if he’d never met a cat in his life, and Mo Xuanyu wanted to die of embarrassment, stuttering apologies at the visiting Lan sect disciples that looked about as awkward about the whole thing as he was.

(They’d tried to get him to deal with the fierce corpses first, sending him out to the hills and yelling at him to do something, but he’d never been invited to night-hunts back at the Jin sect so he just stood around uselessly until they’d given up and invited some real cultivators.)

Auntie Mo was furious – even more so when Mo Ziyuan showed up and started trying to hit Mo Xuanyu for being a liar, except he wasn’t lying (Wei Wuxian had shouted something about theft and robbery, about cutting off someone’s hand if they stole from him again, and everyone thought it was Mo Xuanyu doing the yelling and then he’d had to explain, hadn’t he?) and eventually the entire thing got to be so stressful that it brought on one of his fits.

He woke up not long afterward, with his head in a Lan sect disciple’s lap – he was transferring spiritual energy, which was nice of him but unnecessary – and Wei Wuxian on his chest, frantically licking his cheek and trying to whisper questions of “Are you okay? Mo Xuanyu? Can you hear me?” into his ear.

“I’m okay,” he said, blinking away the daze. There were broken teacups and wine jars tossed all around – it must have been one of the screaming fits, where he threw himself down on the floor and tossed and turned and screamed and sometimes frothed at the mouth. He broke a lot of things during those fits, almost always his own. “Sorry for disturbing you.”

“I told you he was a lunatic,” Auntie Mo said, her voice shrill as always. “Always breaking our things, and then he still complains when A-Yuan borrows a little, as if he wouldn’t just break it himself anyway…! Wretched thing! Useless thing! Honored cultivators, please pardon us this embarrassment, forgive me. We’ll take him away at once –”

Mo Xuanyu flinched, and the Lan sect cultivator who still had his fingers on his pulse frowned. He was very young, and Lan sect; he’d probably never encountered a lunatic before. “No need,” he said. “We need to go and get started with setting up the array in the Western Courtyard. Senior Mo here can show us where it is…can’t you?”

“I can,” Mo Xuanyu said, eager to avoid being locked away again. He scrambled to his feet, not forgetting to scoop up Wei Wuxian the troublemaker. “Follow me.”

They said a few more words, reminders not to go outside once the array was set up, and then they followed him, talking quietly behind him –

“Why’d you call him Senior, Sizhui?” one of the Lan sect disciples was asking the other in an undertone. “He’s a lunatic!”

“He’s a cultivator,” the one that had helped him earlier said. “He has a golden core, and he’s older than we are; that means he’s a senior.”

“He’s got a golden core? No way! He paints his face like he’s a hanged ghost!”

“Jingyi! What does it matter what he does with his face? It’s true, I felt it when I transferred him spiritual energy. Anyway, I didn’t want him to get punished just for having a fit…hey!”

That last exclamation had been because Wei Wuxian had twisted out of Mo Xuanyu’s arms and leaped towards the flags they were carrying, snatching one to the ground and rolling around with it.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Mo Xuanyu said, wanting to cry. He didn’t have any grudge against these Lan sect disciples; why was Wei Wuxian making trouble for them? “I didn’t mean to mess up your flag formation, or the…”

“Spirit Summon Flag,” Wei Wuxian muttered from his feet and Mo Xuanyu quickly used a foot to slide him back behind him and pretended he’d been the one to speak, smiling earnestly at them. “Weak, with a range of no more than five li, but serviceable enough; they can go ahead and use it.”

“You know about Spirit Summon Flags?” the taller Lan sect disciple – the one who’d been called Jingyi – asked, looking surprised, and Lan Sizhui elbowed him in the ribs.

Mo Xuanyu shrugged helplessly. “They used them sometimes at the Jin sect,” he said, which was true, even though he’d never gotten involved in that sort of thing. Saying that just made them all look even more surprised, though; probably at the idea that a lunatic like him had been part of the Jin sect in any way shape or form. “That was back before I went crazy. And you don’t have to call me senior – I got kicked out before I learned anything useful.”

“You’re still a fellow cultivator,” Lan Sizhui said, and smiled at him. Mo Xuanyu felt his face go red and he looked away, regretting how easily he showed his emotions; it would probably embarrass Lan Sizhui later on, when he heard the rumors about Mo Xuanyu’s sexual preference. That wasn’t the reason he’d blushed, he’d never had any interest in children – it was only that he liked it when people smiled at him.

“I’ll be going,” he said, and grabbed at Wei Wuxian again, only to miss and nearly trip before finally managing to pick him up. “Good luck with your hunt. I hope it goes well.”

It did not go well. Mo Ziyuan got himself killed by stealing a Spirit Summon Flag – Mo Xuanyu and Wei Wuxian both checked their left arm or forepaw at the same time, seeing the cut there heal up before their eyes; apparently the curse considered it to be close enough, maybe because Wei Wuxian had invented the thing – and somehow Mo Xuanyu ended up being accused of his murderer.

And that was before things got really bad.

“Set up a blocking array at the corner,” Wei Wuxian hissed in his ear.

“I can’t!” Mo Xuanyu said, hiding behind a tree. “I don’t know any arrays!”

“What?! Impossible. You did the body offering array – that’s extremely difficult, especially for someone of your cultivation level.”

“It’s the only one I was ever taught,” Mo Xuanyu explained, and Wei Wuxian’s fur suddenly puffed up all over again.

“Someone is going to die, and not necessarily the Mo family,” he said darkly; it might have been more intimidating if Mo Xuanyu hadn’t tied a red ribbon around his throat earlier to try to make the idea of him being someone’s pet a little more believable. “Whoever did that really only wanted you for one thing, didn’t they? I wonder why they wanted me back so badly.”

Mo Xuanyu was about to explain that actually Wei Wuxian hadn’t been the original target, but then there was more yelling – the Lan sect juniors were very competent but the ghost hand was terrifying – and Wei Wuxian got distracted, hissing at Mo Xuanyu to kick Lan Jingyi.

He obeyed on instinct, which saved Lan Sizhui’s life, and then Wei Wuxian was out of his hands again, streaking towards the corpses like a bolt of feline lightning, and suddenly there were three more corpses standing up and fighting against the possessed remains of Auntie Mo.

“Looks like I can still cultivate,” Wei Wuxian said happily, strolling back over and using the tree to leap back up to Mo Xuanyu’s shoulder. “I thought I should be able to use your golden core, given the way the curse bound us together…how are we doing on the curse, anyway?”

Mo Xuanyu checked. “I think that’s everyone, actually? I should thank whoever sent the ghost hand.”

Wei Wuxian was silent for a moment. “Huh, you’re right,” he said. “I wasn’t thinking about it at first, but those Spirit Summon Flags definitely didn’t have enough of a range to summon a ghost hand like that from far away – and we would have heard of a lot more deaths if it’d been that close. Someone must have released it near here.”

Mo Xuanyu hadn’t been thinking along those lines at all. It was only that no matter where he lived, Mo Manor or Koi Tower, there was almost always someone causing bad things to happen.

“Should we do something to help?” he asked hesitantly, watching the battle unfold and then flinching when there was an unexpected sound – two strums on a guqin, full of spiritual power.

“Nope!” Wei Wuxian said. “In fact, we should leave. Right now.”

“Leave…?”

“You can’t be planning on staying at Mo Manor now that everyone’s dead? Come on! Let’s go! Hanguang-jun’s here; he’ll take care of the ghost hand.”

“I wasn’t planning anything,” Mo Xuanyu argued even as he headed towards the exit obediently. “I was going to be dead, and the body would be yours, and you could do whatever you liked with it when you were done.”

“Well, we’re done,” Wei Wuxian said. “And you’re not dead. You’re just going to have to live with that.”

“Live with…not being dead?”

“Just accept the glorious wisdom of your elders already,” Wei Wuxian said cheerfully. “Either way: we go. As quickly as possible. Before anyone notices. Is there anything you need to pack? We should take the donkey in that courtyard.”

“And money,” Mo Xuanyu said practically, heading for Auntie Mo’s room first. After all, she was dead and wouldn’t need it, and he was the last living heir of the Mo family – it was only reasonable that he take the first pick before everyone else got it. “You can always use money, even if you’re dead. Or a cat.”

Travelling was a bizarre experience.

Mo Xuanyu hadn’t been allowed to go outside of Mo Manor in a few years – Wei Wuxian hissed and spat some very impressive curses on the Mo family name, present company excluded – and even at his time in the Jin sect, he’d always been taken places by other people. Now, for the first time, he was alone…well, alone but for Wei Wuxian, who insisted that they had to stay together, curse or no curse, because of how they’d been bound. Mo Xuanyu suspected the real reason was because he didn’t think Mo Xuanyu could make it by himself, and he was probably right.

At any rate, he didn’t have anywhere to go, so instead he followed Wei Wuxian’s instructions to head towards Dafan Mountain to see if they could find some tombs that Wei Wuxian would be able to use. He still had fits, still wanted to die rather a lot, but he ended up spending so much of his time trying to coax the donkey (dubbed Little Apple by Wei Wuxian after they figured out that apples were the best and possibly only incentive to get it moving) that he didn’t have time to think about it too much.

Not being around either Auntie Mo or anyone from the Jin sect helped. Wei Wuxian wasn’t too bad – he may have been a villainous ghoul once, but now he was a cat.

“Didn’t you used to cultivate with a flute?” he asked as they walked along the mountain paths late at night. Well, the donkey walked, Mo Xuanyu rode the donkey, and Wei Wuxian rode in Mo Xuanyu’s arms. “What are you going to do about that? You can’t play a flute anymore; you’re a cat.”

“Cats are innately musical creatures,” Wei Wuxian said. His voice had become a lot more human in the past few days, rich and compelling and increasingly lacking the rough meows that had initially interrupted his speech. It was no surprise that someone as talented as him could pick up being a cat faster than Mo Xuanyu had ever learned to pick up being human.

Mo Xuanyu narrowed his eyes. “That’s a lie, right?” Wei Wuxian had been trying to teach him how to distinguish those, but they weren’t having very much success with it. “I don’t think I’ve heard a single decent sound out of –”

“Why don’t we see who’s making that noise?” Wei Wuxian said loudly, so they dismounted and went to go look.

There were people yelling, caught in a golden net.

“Can you get them down?” he asked Wei Wuxian, who reached out with his claws to grab a leaf, muttering something that was probably uncomplimentary.

And then –

Oh, no.

“Why are you hiding behind a tree again?” Wei Wuxian asked him, not keeping especially quiet. “Don’t tell me you’re hiding from that little Jin sect boy who clearly didn’t have a mother to teach him?”

Mo Xuanyu dropped him like he was a boiling hot skillet.

Like everything he’d ever done on instinct, the move immediately backfired: Wei Wuxian landed on Little Apple’s foreleg claws first and suddenly Little Apple was braying loud enough to wake the dead, which set Wei Wuxian off yowling and hissing right back at him.

“Who is that?!” Jin Ling demanded, striding over with an extremely cross expression that suggested he’d heard the bit about mothers. “Who is – oh. It’s you.”

Mo Xuanyu weakly lifted up a hand. “Uh…it’s nice to see you, Jin Ling.”

Wei Wuxian’s yowls cut off as if he’d been suddenly smothered.

Jin Ling glared at him. “Stupid cutsleeve, you think I didn’t hear what you said earlier?”

“I didn’t!” Mo Xuanyu said immediately, starting to shake at once. He couldn’t bear it when people in bright yellow were angry at him, not since those last few days at the Jin sect; it was a sure-fire way to bring on a fit. “I swear I didn’t! I – I –”

Jin Ling lifted his sword and Mo Xuanyu squatted down to cover his head at once, feeling his eyes overflow with blubbering tears as he began to panic. “I didn’t, I didn’t, I didn’t,” he wailed. “Don’t hit me! I don’t want to drink any medicine! I don’t want to get hit! I didn’t do it!”

“You…!” Jin Ling didn’t seem to know what to do now. “You’re such a coward! You – damnit!”

Mo Xuanyu had his face hidden away, so he didn’t see what Jin Ling did next, braced as he was for a blow. He could vaguely hear the sword being put away, but that didn’t diminish his fear in the slightest: the majority of the Jin sect had never been willing to use swords on each other, thinking it disgraceful. Even Jin Guangyao didn’t use his sword very much – he preferred other methods.

Mo Xuanyu was most afraid of those other methods.

He flinched violently when someone lightly touched his shoulder.

“Stop crying, you’re making a fool of yourself!” Jin Ling said, his harsh voice at odds with the gentle touch of his fingers. “Have some thought to your face, okay?! You can’t embarrass yourself like this! Aren’t you my uncle, after all?”

“He’s your what?!” Wei Wuxian’s muffled voice came from under a bush.

“It’s true no matter how you look at it, even if I don’t want it to be,” Jin Ling said with a sniff, clearly assuming the exclamation had come from Mo Xuanyu. “Listen here, what are you doing on Dafan Mountain anyway?”

Mo Xuanyu snuffled, wiping his nose with his sleeve. “Well, my cat –”

“Night hunting!” Wei Wuxian hissed.

“I mean, I was night hunting,” Mo Xuanyu repeated obediently, then frowned. “That’s not really believable, is it?”

Jin Ling looked pityingly at him. “Not really. Do you need – is there something…?”

“Those words from earlier were really rude,” Wei Wuxian said from the bushes, and Mo Xuanyu covered his face with his hands. “They shouldn’t have been said.”

“Yeah, well, whatever. It’s not like I haven’t heard it all before –”

“Jin Ling, get away from him,” a low, cold voice said from behind him.

Mo Xuanyu’s shoulders slumped. It wasn’t relief so much as it was resignation: if there was one thing he knew, that everyone knew, it was that you didn’t cross Jiang Cheng. They said he could smell the stink of demonic cultivation on you, and once he did, that was that, and Mo Xuanyu was pretty sure, though no one had ever said for sure, that the body offering array was some form of demonic cultivation.

They said Jiang Cheng would take demonic cultivators back to the Lotus Pier to be tortured to death.

Mo Xuanyu was almost looking forward to it. Other than the horrible sword flights back and forth to Koi Tower in Lanling, Dafan Mountain was the furthest from home he’d been, and Wei Wuxian had been waxing poetic about the beauties of the Lotus Pier for days now; it would be nice to see it, however briefly, before he died.

He’d probably get to see lots of Jiang Cheng, too – he’d only ever caught glimpses of him before, when he was visiting Koi Tower, so he’d never had a chance to look his fill. And whatever could be said about the man’s temper, it couldn’t be denied that he had a first-rate face.

“Why?” Jin Ling asked, not moving. “It’s only Mo Xuanyu. Did you ever meet him? He’s –”

“Not him,” Jiang Cheng said, and he looked – bemused? That wasn’t the expression Mo Xuanyu would have been expecting. “It was – Wei Wuxian…wait, the cat?!”

Mo Xuanyu’s mouth dropped open in shock. How did he know?

“Definitely not!” Wei Wuxian blurted out, which didn’t seem smart, and suddenly Jiang Cheng looked extremely confused and abruptly sat down.

“Uncle, what are you talking about?” Jin Ling said. “Are you okay?”

“No,” Jiang Cheng said, a hand to his temple as if he had a headache, or possibly questioning his sanity. “It’s – it’s the cat. I heard – that voice – Wei Wuxian wouldn’t be sniveling on the ground like a newborn infant, and the only other thing around is – so it must be –”

“Is lunacy contagious or something?” Jin Ling demanded. “Uncle, I know you’ve been looking for him for years, but you can’t seriously think Wei Wuxian resurrected himself as a cat!”

“Meow!” Wei Wuxian said desperately, except it was as awful a meow as it’d ever been – entirely human. “Meow, meow –”

“That voice –!”

“Uncle!”

“Shut up!” Mo Xuanyu abruptly yelled, pushed entirely beyond his limits. “All of you! Just shut up! Stop yelling and stop harassing my cat!”

With that, he grabbed Wei Wuxian and ran blindly into the woods.

He kept running until the air wouldn’t enter his lungs anymore, and then he fell down under a tree and burst into tears again, the fear and panic and exercise all escalating uncontrollably until he fell into another fit, no matter how much Wei Wuxian tried to talk him down.

When Mo Xuanyu woke up, he felt as though he really had gotten beaten up by Jin Ling, even though he knew he hadn’t been. He groaned.

“You’re awake again, good,” Wei Wuxian said. He was standing on his two hind legs, forepaws behind his back as he slowly paced a circle. “Those fits of yours – they only started after you went crazy, you said?”

Mo Xuanyu nodded and sat up, rubbing his face – he didn’t have a mirror to check, but all those tears must have messed up his make-up. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the case of cosmetics he’d insisted on taking the time to remove from Mo Manor, no matter how much Wei Wuxian had urged him to leave quickly before they were found.

“Based on the things you’ve said, it seems like there was a particular point in time where you went crazy – enough that you can accurately pin-point things as being before and after.”

Mo Xuanyu nodded again, using his fingers to apply more red paint around his eyes, which were still a little swollen and tender from all the crying.

“And you said something when Jin Ling was holding his sword – damnit, that was Suihua, I should have recognized it at once – anyway, you said something about…about not wanting to drink medicine?”

Wei Wuxian certainly fixated on the strangest things, Mo Xuanyu reflected. Maybe lunacy really was contagious.

“Someone poisoned you,” Wei Wuxian concluded. He still had the red ribbon around his neck – in combination with the way he was just barely maintaining his upright balance and the way his tail was lashing around, it was rather cute. “If it took place in the Jin sect, it was probably something with quicksilver, since they use it to make vermillion. It damages the brain and liver if consumed in high quantities, and it’s associated with epilepsy, hallucinations, and terrible nightmares; it’s been used since ancient times to make men into fools.”

Mo Xuanyu nodded politely, mostly disinterested. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know who was behind it, and it didn’t really matter what exactly was involved – if anything, the medicine could almost be seen as Jin Guangyao’s way of being nice. He could have had Mo Xuanyu disappeared the way he did for Xue Yang, or he could have fed him to Xue Yang’s fierce corpses, or even just slit his throat...at least by going mad, Mo Xuanyu would still be useful to Jin Guangyao, a vivid demonstration that any madness in their bloodline must have come from their shared father’s side, not the mother.

He wasn’t sure why Jin Guangyao cared about that, but at least he wasn’t dead. No, wait, didn’t he want to be dead? His half-brother was so confusing sometimes.

Maybe sending Mo Xuanyu back to Mo Manor, back to Auntie Mo and all the others that Jin Guangyao knew Mo Xuanyu feared, maybe it was supposed to teach him how to hate enough, so that he could make the ritual work – if so, Mo Xuanyu’d probably disappointed Jin Guangyao all over again.

“…some ways to at least ease the symptoms, maybe more if we can find a good enough doctor.” Wei Wuxian was still talking, for some reason. “At least you have your golden core; if you were a regular person, there wouldn’t be any hope at all.”

“Hope is overrated,” Mo Xuanyu said. “It just makes it worse when you’re inevitably disappointed, and then you die, if you’re lucky.”

Xue-gege had taught him that one, and he was even pretty sure he’d quoted it correctly, but Wei Wuxian didn’t look particularly impressed.

“I’ve heard that quicksilver poisoning can cause qi deviation, which is associated with suicidal urges,” Wei Wuxian said, dropping to all four legs and then hopping onto his shoulder. “Let me try to stabilize your qi – maybe it’ll keep you from saying things like that all the time. Go on, get up and stretch your legs a bit; they’re probably sore from all the running and thrashing you were doing.”

Mo Xuanyu walked all right, walked right into a confrontation with a stone goddess, which was honestly just how this day was going. Wei Wuxian really needed to stop being so surprised when bad things happened.

“Can you play the flute?” Wei Wuxian hissed into his ear, all thoughts of qi stabilization forgotten. “I need to summon something powerful, and yowling, while surprisingly effective, isn’t going to cut it.”

“I can play the dizi,” Mo Xuanyu offered. “But I’m not good at it, and anyway we don’t have –”

“Good enough! Grab that piece of bamboo and give it to me, I can use my claws to make the holes, and you can follow the tune that I show you –”

Wei Wuxian meowed, Mo Xuanyu played, and Wei Wuxian’s ears went flat backwards in apparent agony.

“Whoever taught you should be tortured to death,” he said briefly before resuming his guidance, focusing in on whatever demonic cultivation technique he was doing – it made the Ghost General appear, so Mo Xuanyu assumed it was successful, although Wei Wuxian’s shocked muttering suggested something had gone wrong regardless. Again, not much of a surprise.

One thing led to another, and then a tall man in Lan sect white showed up along with the juniors from Mo Manor, along with Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling, and at that point Mo Xuanyu decided that some of this bad luck had to be Wei Wuxian’s, because even the worst of his bad days weren’t usually this bad.

Wei Wuxian panicked when they bumped into the tall man – Hanguang-jun, apparently? Mo Xuanyu vaguely recalled hearing about him, but he’d never come to Koi Tower while Mo Xuanyu had been there – and it was very uncomfortable to have a panicking cat on his shoulder, especially when he was still trying to remember enough flute-playing to follow along with the tune Wei Wuxian was meowing, something more relaxing to try to calm down the Ghost General.

“…Wei Ying?” Hanguang-jun said, staring at the cat.

Mo Xuanyu stopped playing and turned his head to stare at Wei Wuxian. “How are you this obvious?” he asked.

“This is not my fault,” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, aggravated. “I’m a cat! Nobody should be blaming me!”

“I think I’m losing my mind,” Jiang Cheng, located somewhere further away on the field, said, his voice sounding strangled. “I really do swear I just heard….”

“That was me!” Mo Xuanyu said quickly. “Totally me! I picked up ventriloquism to better process the auditory hallucinations! I’m very sick, and also a lunatic – you can just ignore me!”

Nobody seemed especially convinced.

“…Sect Leader Jiang,” Hanguang-jun said after a while. “There are very good healers dedicated to the calming of the mind at the Cloud Recesses. I can take Young Master Mo – and his cat – with me to see them, which I think will be beneficial to everyone involved.”

“Fine,” Jiang Cheng said. “But I’m coming too. I think I need it.”

Hanguang-jun frowned for a moment and the two of them stared at each other for a long time, unspoken emotions crackling in the air between them. Finally, he nodded. “Very well.”

“You know, I don’t think we’ve ever agreed to go to -” Wei Wuxian started to say, but Mo Xuanyu stuffed his fingers over his little snout. Hanguang-jun was the second master of the Lan sect, which meant Zewu-jun was his brother, and Zewu-jun was Jin Guangyao’s friend – and you didn’t go against what Jin Guangyao wanted, not if you knew what was good for you.

Mo Xuanyu might be stupid, but even he could figure something out after it hurt enough.

“It’s fine,” he said. “We’ll go with you for a little, but you have to promise to let us go afterwards. You have to promise, you hear me? I don’t want to be locked away again!”

Hanguang-jun had a strange expression on his face, which was about the same as the expression on Jiang Cheng’s face, and Jin Ling’s, and all the Lan juniors – had Mo Xuanyu said something wrong?

“Your freedom and safety will be assured,” Hanguang-jun said.

“And my cat’s!”

Jiang Cheng put his hand on his head, looking pained.

“And your cat,” Hanguang-jun agreed peaceably, and turned and started to lead the way.

Mo Xuanyu and all the others followed behind.

“Fine,” Wei Wuxian muttered in Mo Xuanyu’s ear once the others were far enough ahead to not immediately overhear. “We can go with Lan Zhan back to Gusu one time. They really do have good healers there, anyway – but I want to talk to him about that ghost hand. Someone released it right next to Mo Manor, probably the same person who wanted me back so badly that he taught you how to do the body offering array, and I want to have words with that person.”

Mo Xuanyu was a little confused: was it Sect Leader Nie he wanted to talk to or Jin Guangyao? And why was Wei Wuxian so angry at them? They were both so nice, at least some of the time…better not to ask.

“You should get some Emperor’s Smile when you get to Gusu,” Wei Wuxian added.

“I don’t drink,” Mo Xuanyu objected.

“For me.”

“Cats don’t drink.”

“I’m not planning on being a cat forever,” Wei Wuxian said. “And won’t that be a surprise to everyone?”

Mo Xuanyu thought about it. “No,” he said after a moment. “I really don’t think it will be, actually.”