#yes this literally sounds like a prayer right now | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

webslingingslasher · 11 months ago

Text

banner made by: @thursdaygxrls

(yes, i reposted this. i needed to edit the dates. thank you to those who will re-reblog and re-like.)

it's finally here. a major quick thank you for all the love and patience everyone has shown me over this series. i hope it's worth the wait.

word count: 11k.

it's getting real now...

CHAPTER TWO: MASTERMIND

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 8TH, SIGMA NU CHAPTER HOUSE

Chistine Kiko just handed you an eighth of mushrooms and you weren’t one to disappoint. Even if it was your first time. “My fucking dad wouldn’t let me do anything in the Hamptons. I literally only had my dab pen and coke. Like, what kind of person does that?”

They taste like fucking shit, Christine licked her pudgy fingers dry while you were gagging between chews. “He sounds,” baby barf, “like a monster.” She doesn’t pick up on your sarcasm, “thank you! Everyone said I was being dramatic too, glad to know I can rely on you.”

You cough on the last swallow, Christine patted at your back, a red solo cup pushed in your hand. “Drink. I mean, he bossed me around all summer too. He thinks I wanna be like him, like, try that with your other kids?” You pull the cup down, “you’re an only child?”

Christine shrugs, “it’s never too late.” You hum while you finish the mixture, it was ultra sweet, you assume it was full of booze. “So, basically, you’re gonna have a super fun time and I will totally be here for you if you need me, but I have friends to see, ya know?”

It’s a nice way of saying she will absolutely not be around if you need her. You stop her with a hand on her wrist, “wait, how long until this hits? Will I know?” Christine smirks, “about an hour, give or take. Ride the wave and pick a bed to land in.”

You’re alone for an entire two minutes, just enough time to get your own cup of jungle juice, the same mixture as Christine’s, before an arm drops around your shoulders. The voice alone makes you want to eat sand, you just know he’s about to say something stupid.

With his girlfriend in tow, blonde hair whips towards you, a snotty smirk, “did you see Harvey yet?” It takes everything in you not to wack his arm. “No, not yet.”

“Well, I’m sure he’s going to love your top.” You huff at him, “this wasn’t even the shirt Ally wanted me to wear, so, fuck you!” Matt holds a hand to his chest, “I am in a committed relationship, and even if I wasn’t, ew.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, blondie. I’ve seen cuter rats.” He narrows his eyes, “I will pray for evil to find you.” Ally gasps, “Matty, no.”

Holding a middle finger up, your eyes wander around the room until you zone in on Harvey resting against the staircase, a gleam of light hits his wrist, silver dances in your eyes.

Harvey must have felt you, his chin rises in a poor excuse for a nod. You flash a four finger wave, raising your cup to your mouth when he starts laughing with a friend. Matt pokes your elbow at the interaction, “what kind of dress are you wearing to the wedding?”

You grin, “I’m not sure yet, I don’t wanna clash with Ally.” You turn to her, “we both can’t wear white, right?”

“Hey, hey, hey, if anyone’s going to marry Ally it’s me, and it’ll be in a church so you’ll either sit it out or burn.”

Checking your phone you nibble at your lip, thirty eight minutes. Trent’s nowhere to be found, you need to start looking. And subtly. You take a step back, pretending to be interested in a fake text. “Give me five minutes, I need to make a call.” Ally’s quick to give the go ahead, “okay, text me if you can’t find us!”

Thirty seven minutes. Your shoulder hits a freshman’s, jungle juice splashes on the hardwood; spilling out an apology you step over the puddle. A boy you haven’t seen before smiles at you, if you weren’t on a mission, you’d be saying hello.

You loop by the garage, heart stuttering when you capture Peter and Ethan playing a game of beer pong. Trent wasn’t there, your last hope and prayer was in the backyard.

Surrounded by rose bushes, the chapter president had his lips wrapped around a cigarette. The red glow lit his cheeks up on the inhale, two girls and another guy with him, you think you shared a class with one of the girls last year.

Trent catches your eyes, it’s clear you both don’t want anyone to know what’s going on. He directed his gaze towards your phone, a hand moved around in his pocket before he produced his own.

You stare at your home screen, expecting the message any second. It comes when you move back inside.

‘Use the backstairs, my room is on the left at the end of the hall.’

‘Give me five minutes.’

Thirty two minutes, you don’t have any time to waste. Your feet hit the stairs.

Trent’s room is messy and terribly decorated. Clothes covered the floor, empty bowls and plates scattered across his desk, a still sweating, sealed water bottle makes you smack your lips. How tempting.

A string of flags, a political one that doesn’t surprise you in the slightest, a ‘Saturdays are for the boys’ one, and a black and white american flag. The trio makes you roll your eyes, it seems very fitting for his personality. No shoe has a matching partner in the entire room, you’re scared to think of what might be under his bed.

You don’t feel safe or comfortable enough to sit on it either, it’s unmade and with a noticeable and questionable looking stain. He does have a couch though, and it looks very, very comfortable. It feels like you’d sink right in. It’s not enticing enough, you don’t trust it.

You check your phone again, it’s been five minutes and it could be the liquor, but you feel a slight wobble. Twenty three minutes until blast off Trent slides through a small crack in the door, your arms cross defensively. “I know you’re not fucking me, but you can at least pretend to care about my time.”

“Wrong. I wouldn’t care about you, even if you were fucking me.” He proudly takes a seat at his desk, he offers you nothing. A smug look rolls over, “you’ve built it up long enough, what do you need from me?”

The sooner it’s over, the better. “My friends and I have a bet on your potential new members, if the person I pick makes it through recruitment, I win. I need you to make sure I win.”

Trent’s facade slips, even just for a millisecond. “One more time, and I need you to be very clear on it, alright?”

Were you slurring your words? You try to speak clearer. “I know someone who’s going to pledge, and I promise you he has no involvement in this, but I need him to be recruited so I can win some money. All I need is for you to make sure I win and they don’t.”

A brief pause, Trent looks sympathetic. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you with that.” You cut him off, he accepted the terms last Friday, and again when you sent over copies of your- Noa’s hard discoveries.

“No, no, Trent, you did. You said anything I needed, and I need this.”

“If you would’ve told me what you needed, you would’ve known I couldn’t help you.”

“This is bullshit, I’ll start singing from the rooftops about your payoff.”

“No, you won’t. I’m the president, so I get final say on who we fully recruit-” You roll your eyes, “I know.”

“- but I don’t get to choose who makes it past rush, you need a member to bid on a pledge. You need someone to big brother him, I can’t do that. If I get involved it becomes dirty rushing, and that is the biggest ‘no no’ to exist.”

You slump, everything comes crashing down. “So… you can’t even pull rank here?” Trent shakes his head, “absolutely not.”

“So this was all for nothing?”

“If you can find a member to bid on him, you have my promise he’ll make it, and I’ll cut whoever you need so you can win. That’s it.”

You’re at a loss, you have no other member you could ask. Matt could never keep a secret, you didn’t know Ethan well enough and there was no way in hell you’d ask- “Want my advice? Parker is your best bet.”

You shake your head wildly, it takes a moment for your mind to click back into place. “You really want to involve someone else into this? You know what’s at stake, right?” You’re hinting at his secret, Trent shrugs.

“If anyone is going to know about it, I’d want it to be Parker. He can keep a secret and has no issue in playing dirty if he’s in on it.” You’re suddenly very thirsty, you keep licking your lips for moisture.

“He doesn’t know who I am.” Not a total lie.

“Then introduce yourself.”

You shouldn’t have to do anything, he’s the one not making good on his promise. You made good on your end and in return he’s barely lifting a finger. Maybe it had something to do with not wanting Peter involved due to fear of judgment. Or, maybe he’d be impressed like Trent.

If you wanted Peter to be a conquest, it couldn’t start by you asking for a favor. That was friend behavior, and you wanted to be anything but friends. This was Trent’s problem, not yours. He doesn’t understand that you can make things difficult for him if he backs out.

Your tongue is thick and you need water. You have no time for this.

“Listen, Trent. This is your problem. I held up my end of the bargain, and you have to do yours. I don’t care how you do it, but you’re going to pledge Isaac Barns. If you don’t, I’ll turn shit around and make this the dirty frat, the frat that cheated for first place.”

Trent held a clenched jaw, you saw nothing but fury in his eyes. “We’ll figure something out. No need to get mouthy.” If you had more time you’d entertain his comment, but it’s clear he’d figure something out.

You eye the plastic water bottle next to him, snatching it from the side. “And I’m taking this, talk to me when you have a plan, Simpson!” When his door slams shut, it rings in your ears.

You feel every muscle in your legs move while you walk, and within minutes it seemed like everything got brighter. A vibration washes down the back of your thigh, you slap around, it’s your phone. A single text.

‘friend?’

You’ve been missing too long, one way to stop the questions.

‘Finding Harvey…’ the response was a keyboard smash.

Blinking harsh, the room feels like it’s blending together. You’ve never felt this way, it’s like the entire house is moving underneath your feet. The floor waves you into the crowd, everything feels like it’s slow motion, yet sped up at the same time.

“Hey!” You don’t know who it is, it’s a stranger, his voice sounds distorted. You shake your head clear, and step right by him. You’re on a mission and can’t be sidetracked, things are hitting quickly and you need to find Harvey to explain plans have taken a very sharp left.

A spin of bodies, you find one that stands out. You catch her shoulders.

“Lindsey!” You fight for the words, they’re like butter. “Have you seen Harvey Guyn?”

She’s fucking plastered, a slur of letters string out. “... hall.. wine… yeah! haha…” A gasp when she sees a friend across the house, you’re forgotten in a second. Putting your faith in her, you take careful steps, slapping your hands on the wine closet and tugging it open.

“Harvey! You in here? Lindsey said you were-” there was no chance to finish, Harvey was busy doing it for you. His head was thrown back on the wall tiles, a guttural moan ripped from his throat. Wrapped around his fist was a tight hold of black hair, to help Christine Kiko keep his dick swallowed down.

“Oh shit,” you slam the door on them, standing in shock for a few seconds. It wasn’t about him hooking up with her, he could do what he wanted. But it wasn’t everyday you saw something like that in person, and you had to give credit to Christine, she was taking it like a champ.

It gave you an out for the night, you were too high for anything but breathing.

Thank god for Christine Kiko. And really bless her for catching up with you in record time spurting apologies while wiping her mouth clean. “I know, I know, you guys were hooking up, but-”

You stop her sorry, “how’d you know?” She rakes her long nails through her hair to untangle it, it comes out clean instantly. “My dad is super simping for his dad and we vacationed together this year so he had me try and make Harvey happy so he could tell his dad they should do business.”

Christine has no idea how fucked up that sounds, “what would he have done if you were his son?” She doesn’t miss a beat, “Harvey swings both ways, doesn’t he?”

Music shakes your feet, Christine’s hair looks soft. It’s black and pin-straight, you reach out, you comb your fingers through without a hint of struggle. “Wow, you take such good care of your hair.”

“Rice water, you’re welcome.” She looks back at the door, “I need some things to finish up, but um, you feeling alright? It looks like it’s settling in.” It is. You’re busy twisting the cap on your water bottle, the small ridges skate across your thumb to create a soothing repetition. “Yeah.”

It makes her smile, “yeah? You should go outside, the trees look fucking awesome, even when it’s dark.” You thank her for the idea, and stand still for a little too long after Christine retreats back to the wine closet. You think it’s your brain trying to remember how to walk, you blame the bass reverberating off the flooring.

The second you’re able to actually pick your feet up, you move three steps before noticing it feels like you have lead boots on. You clomp towards the couches, perched on the side, sitting pretty, was your best friend.

Making eye contact, you replay what just happened. You can’t stop it, it’s uncontrollable, bubbling from your throat, you laugh. Loudly. The longer you laugh, the more intense it gets. Ally has no idea what’s going on, but you assume the giggle is contagious.

“What! Tell me!” You’re trying, but you can’t catch your breath. Each time you try to push more than two words out, you’re back to laughing so hard your shoulders shake. There’s only one reason you’re finding this so funny, you try to collect yourself. “I…” Another round, Ally’s right with you; you think she’s just excited to see what’s got you so giddy.

“Okay, okay. Christine Kiko gave me some shrooms, and they, like, just hit. Also, I just caught her sucking Harvey’s dick.” Ally sputters, “what?!” A hand covers her mouth, the imagery catching up to her. “Oh my god!” You nod, she said it better than you could. “And you saw this?!” It’s like the idea is unbelievable to her. “Uh huh, right in front of me.”

Ally presses the hand covering her mouth, to her cheek. A moment of silence, until she starts to laugh just like you did. You almost copy, until she stops and gives you an ironclad look, “wait, did you say mushrooms?”

You pretend your mind is exploding. “I’m experiencing things I couldn’t explain right now.” Ally’s hair looks almost as soft as Christine’s. You grab a thick piece, breaking it into thirds and start to braid. It feels like rope, your fingers turn into a ball of yarn, fumbling into one useless clump.

“Are you okay? Matty and I were about to go upstairs.” Your eyes flash towards the stairs on instinct, then you're back at her. “Coming back down?” Ally grins and sends you a wink, “not if I give him a reason not to.” She drops her grin, “unless you need company, in that case, I’m here for you.”

Just because you chose to spend your night tripping, it doesn’t mean Ally has to ditch bedtime with her boyfriend. Wouldn’t that be an incredibly selfish thing to do? “I don’t need a trip sitter, I have myself. And Christine. Also, have you seen Prince?”

“Uh, no. He went off with Rocco the second we got here.” Rocco, the second you hear his name, you think of his hair, how does one achieve an afro? Would it be wrong to ask?

“Cool, cool, no doubt, no doubt.” Ally eyes you, she’s trying to make sure you’re fully okay before she pulls Matt upstairs. You flash a smile, it’s enough to have her drop her shoulders in relief. “You always have me, you know where I’ll be.”

“And I am so, so grateful for you, Ally Storm.” Because, you are. In your opinion, mushrooms make you emotional. You went from laughing to appreciative in one minute, suddenly you’re hugging your best friend while holding back tears. “You are so kind, and patient, and nice, and, like, so super supportive to me.”

Ally squeezes you right back, “you should do drugs more often, I’m loving the praise.” You pull back to wink at her, “it’s only cause you’re so great. Go do your boyfriend, since I can’t get any tonight.”

“You think sex on shrooms would be good?” The idea hadn’t occurred, but thinking about it makes you agree with her. “Sex on hallucinogens? That’s boyfriend behavior.” Ally pats your arm, “next time, invite me. I’ll let you know how it is.”

A twinkle in her eye appears, you dread what’s about to happen. “Sup, slugger?” The arm around you is entirely too heavy, but oddly comforting. Like a weighted blanket. “She took mushrooms.” You nod, Matt rubs your shoulder, you almost purr. “Having fun?” Normally, you have a love hate relationship with Matt. You both love to hate each other, but not seriously. Not that it’s been said, but you know Matt would protect you with anything in him if needed.

Tonight, right now, Matt is a solid force. “Permission to hug?” Ally’s eyes widen, she almost doubles down on the sentiment of doing drugs more often. “You wanna full on, front touch me?” Nevermind, Matt just ruined it, like he ruins everything. “Not anymore, you ruined it.”

“Oh, no, no, no. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.” Before you can try and dodge it, Matt’s got you in his hold. It’s very obvious he’s doing it for the pure enjoyment of annoying you, it’s almost endearing. Almost. You’d fight better at shoving him away but he’s got a warmth radiating from his chest and into yours.

Peter watches you bump hips across the room with Paul’s girlfriend, your fingers pull at her hair. A wild look crosses her face, two of you giggling.

“I didn’t know she was Ally’s friend.” Ethan scratches at his arm, Peter’s guard goes up. He knows why he’s surprised to know you were the friend in question, he doesn’t know why Ethan thinks so too.

Ethan shrugs and asks Peter about something, he can’t focus. “You know her?”

“Yeah, that’s my bio girl.”

Peter felt constricted, he doesn’t know why. “Wait, what? That’s my freshman.”

Ethan stares at the side of Peter’s head. “She’s not a freshman.” Peter sneers at his friend, “yeah, no shit.” Ethan kisses his teeth, “I invited her to the party.” He doesn’t know why, but Peter feels slightly challenged.

“So did I.” His arms cross over his chest, he mumbles the rest. “On the first day.”

“Funny. When I asked she said she had no plans.”

Peter can feel his jaw clench, he wants to kind of fucking punch him, if he’s being honest. And that makes him even more upset, because why is he so threatened? Ethan may have an inkling that his best friend wants you more than he does, but he also wants him to know he could have competition.

“Funny.” It’s clear Peter did not find it funny.

“She’s cool. You know, witty, kind, pretty…” Peter’s doing what he can to keep himself from walking away, he wants to scream that he had eyes on you first. But that’s an insane thought, only one that could be casted by a witch.

“She’s difficult and entitled.”

All Ethan hears is ‘she’s fucking perfect for me.’ And his mind was made up, you were no longer someone he’d pursue. You’re all Parker’s, because he wants you. Even if he won’t admit it, yet.

“So, you have no issue with me moving in on that?” Peter’s a little too quiet, choosing to nurse on his beer in hand. “Do what you want, man.” He finishes his drink, he looks back up at you, sharing a warm embrace with Paul.

“Cause, I don’t mind leaving it alone, if you want.” It takes a second, but Peter lightly shrugs. No words needed to be said, it told Ethan everything he needed to know. “You saw her first, it’s only fair.” It’s tiny, and it’s a microflash, but Peter grinned. What was understood, didn’t need to be explained.

Heavy steps found themselves at a familiar face.

“My roommate ditched me and this floor looks like a pirate ship.” You point down for good measure, Ethan’s a good sport and looks with you. “Is it moving?”

You nod quickly, glad he too can see the shifting boards. Ethan’s sweater catches your attention, it looks soft. By default he looks like a teddy bear, you can’t hold yourself back, latching yourself to the cashmere you run your hands over his back.

“It’s so soft.”

Ethan laughs, he has no issue returning the love. You melt under his touch, everything is so warm. “I can feel your hands.” Your lab partner knows exactly what’s going on, “yeah? What’d you take, X?”

You pull back to spread pixie dust from your fingertips, “magic mushrooms.” Lights flash in cohesion with the music, you’re awe at the sharp beauty. Swirls of color cloud your vision, loud bass rings your ears. Vibrations flow from your toes up to your knees, a circle of laughter around you is contagious.

You can’t stop the giggles, you weren’t sure who was laughing or why but it seemed so fitting.

You throw your head back, the room spins and you squeal when your waist is held tight.

“Ethan!” You hug him again, you can’t stop patting his sweater. “Wanna do some shots?” Ethan shakes his head, “no, you want some water.” You stop, “oh my god, yeah, that sounds so good.” Your lower back is nudged, you’re guided into the kitchen where you see a blur of motion.

Stumbling, your back collides into another body. You spin quickly, you can’t believe it’s taken this long to see him.

“Peter, hi!”

Your arms loop around his back, you pull him tight to you and sigh. He’s broader than Ethan, but his shirt can’t match Ethan’s sweater. Peter feels oddly frozen, you shuffle into him further, an awkward pat is granted to the middle of your back. “Hi.”

“No, no, like this.” You fix the placement, it’s like he’s never given a hug in his entire life. Peter’s offering no warmth, it feels like he’s just allowing you to have this moment. You give him an unsure glance when you pull back, “I’ll make you better, don’t worry.”

You’re stopped before you could try and teach Peter a proper hug. “Let’s not hug, Parker.” You blink wildly at your lab partner, before looking back at Peter, he has an unimpressed gaze on Ethan. “No hugs? You don’t like hugs?”

It’s unacceptable, you pull at Ethan’s arm. “Here, show him how it’s done.” Ethan tries to shake his head, you loop around his waist tightly. “See, Peter? This is how you hug.”

“I know how to hug.”

You smile and nudge away from the cashmere, your arms open wide. “Okay, show me.”

“No.”

A frown takes over, since he’s being mean, you can too.

“Fine. I don’t like your haircut, how about that?” Peter lacks the reaction you want him to give, “thank you.” You narrow your eyes at him, “Christine should’ve given you the mushrooms instead, you’re kinda grumpy.”

Ethan pushes you back, “okay, D.A.R.E. Water.” You took the bottle and looked between the two friends. “Be honest, did you guys know they were hooking up?”

Peter furrowed his eyebrows, you had the urge to rub it out. Ethan slapped your hand down. “Who?” You hold a finger up to pause the conversation, water has never tasted so clear.

“Mmm…” you blink awake. “Harvey and Christine. Did you think he wasn’t planning on me finding out? Was he fully prepared to try and bang me after he got head from another girl? Cause, I don’t think so.”

A song you haven’t heard before plays, it sends waves of warmth over your skin.

Ethan shrugs, “sounds like Harvey, yeah.”

You jeer around the plastic bottle, “boo.” Peter’s short circuiting in his brain. You were hooking up with Harvey? The pieces were muddling. His Harvey? That guy sucks. Peter reacts subconsciously, grabbing whatever you handed him. An empty water bottle, you smile, “thanks!” He grunts before tossing it in the kitchen sink.

“This party would be so much better if Taylor Swift was playing.”

It takes everything in Peter not to roll his eyes, Ethan one ups him in a second.

“Which album?”

You gasp, Peter swears he sees a sparkle in your eyes. For a split second he regrets not asking you the same thing. “Any of them! Do you like her too?”

Peter thought his best friend read between the lines from their earlier conversation. He assumes he didn’t.

“She’s alright, I have a few of her vinyls.” Record scratch, Peter just lost you. Your hand grabbed Ethan’s shoulder, you leaned in closer and gave him doe eyes. “No way, I don’t believe you. Which ones?”

Ethan laughs, “I have them in my room, swear to god. I like her sister albums.”

Peter watches your hand slide down his sleeve until you latch around his wrist, “show me.” Ethan shrugs, “alright, we can-” Peter steps in front of him, the path blocked.

“Keznek.” As in, you’re not doing what I think you’re doing, right?

“Parker.” As in, do you really think that low of me?

A third name is brought into the mix, Peter looks down, you’re smiling big at him and for a second he feels like he’s smiling back.

“Who’s that?”

You point at yourself, “me.”

He finally has your name, it’s fitting. He doesn’t think he’s ever thought a name could fit a person, until he heard yours. A weird urge to compliment it tugs at him, he buries it down. Witch.

Attention back on Ethan, “you swear you have them?” He’s almost offended you’d ask, “promise.” You look to Peter, “can you confirm?” Peter sucks in a breath through his teeth, he shakes his head slowly. “I can’t.”

The answer is obvious, “I have to verify, if you’re telling the truth you’ll win cool points forever.” Plan impeded, the chapter president just walked through the kitchen, a gleam in the wolves eye. His hand clapped Peter’s chest, the light abuse caused you to frown.

“Nice to see you’re making friends with Parker.”

You flip the script, a fake smile. “I’m sorry, who are you?” Ethan laughed behind you and was immediately silenced with a harsh glare from Trent. “Watch it, Keznek.” Peter’s face hardened at the tone.

“You’re taking my advice, I love to see it.”

Peter has his eyes on you, it takes strength to ignore it. “Wanna talk about advice? You should play some Taylor Swift.” Trent scoffs, “get fucked.” Peter speaks up before you have a chance, “hey, woah.” The head of the house wasn’t about to be talked to like he was a chapter officer, even if he was. His response was pushing Peter back and walking away.

“I understand why he’s the president,” you watch the room swirl together. “He’s super mature.” Smacking your lips, you blindly reach for Ethan. “Do you see these fucking lights right now?” Peter glances around, it’s the same party lighting they use each time.

“Are they dragging?” You focus in, when you move your head slow trails of light follow. “Yeah, woah.” Peter clears his throat, the sound cupped around your ears. “Your friend here, freshman?” You spin, “who’s friend?”

Peter looks at Ethan for a second, you’re busy trying to pull at a loose thread on Peter’s sleeve. “How are you getting home tonight?” You twirl the strand around your finger, the tension snaps it. When the blood returns to your fingertip, it warms your entire hand.

“Dunno yet. I’ll figure it out later.” You look down at your feet, they seem like they’re a million miles away from you. The floor shifts underneath you, it makes your knees shake, you clutch Ethan’s arm to balance yourself. “Pirate ship?” You nod, “ahoy, matey.”

Peter shifts when you take him in, more or less just focused on his face. He stands a little taller, then questions it, because why would he care about how tall you perceived him to be? “Peter,” he waits. Pointing behind you, “wanna do a shot? Ethan refused, like he hates me or something.” You can’t stop looking at him, the lights dance over his face, casting him in an angelic glow like no other.

“You think mixing shots with mushrooms is a good idea?” You move around, like your body couldn’t stand holding still. “Just one.” One wouldn’t hurt, and it’s not like he’s doing it for you or anything, he planned on having a shot anyways. You were just another person to pour for.

“Sure. Pick the poison.” You answer quickly, an honest response. “Rat.” Ethan starts to laugh and it’s contagious, you start giggling too. You don’t know why he’s laughing, but it feels good to have someone to laugh with. Peter tilts his head to the ceiling with a heavy sigh, “no, freshman. I meant booze.”

“Oh! Not vodka, I hate vodka, I can taste it in anything, even when Ally mixes it with Hawaiian Punch. So, please never give me vodka. I hate it.”

Peter smirks at Ethan, “so, vodka?” You sputter, you wonder if you confused love and hate in your speech. You shake your head quickly, “no, no, no, Peter. I hate vodka, please don’t give me any.”

Ethan slides a bottle down to Peter, it’s a party classic. Peter waits on you, “this good enough for you, princess?” It was sarcastic as all hell, but it still made you feel warm and fuzzy. “Yes, prince.” Peter just shook his head while he poured them up.

Raised glasses, you wait for the toast. “Here’s to A’s, C’s, and double D’s.” The words made you send a glare to Peter, it seemed like he was waiting for it. “You know, like grades?” It’s not what he meant, all three of you knew it, but you couldn’t fight him on it either. It still works, a cheer is a cheer.

Normally, you’d find Fireball warming, tonight, you find it burning. You almost choke on it, holding it in your mouth for longer than you should’ve, the instant sting had caught you off guard. “Jesus Christ, freshy. Swallow.” It’s like you need a reminder, you’re able to take it down; a shutter takes over your body.

You turn to your lab partner, a sour look on your face. “Why did you let me do that? You’re supposed to be smart.” Ethan holds his hands up, you’re not about to throw him under the bus. “Hey, I tried. You’re the one that only wanted Parker’s opinion.”

SATURDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER 9TH. CATHEDRAL HALL.

Peter was dragged out of his bed a little too early for a saturday in his opinion. He woke up to Trent hanging over his bed, poking him harshly on his shoulder. “The fuck do you want, Simpson?” If Peter had to guess what time it was by the shadow in his room, it was pushing early morning.

“Get up. We need to go somewhere.” Peter blinked quickly, dragging a heavy hand up to rub the sleep from his eyes. “Now?” Trent started to stab, Peter slapped his hand away. “The fuck, man?” His president wasn’t playing around. “Get the fuck up, Parker.”

Only when Peter sat up did Trent back away, “don’t wake anyone up. I need you downstairs in five.” When his door was shut, Peter squeezed his eyes shut and allowed himself to taste the idea of sleep one more time. Then, he got up, tugged on sweatpants and a hoodie, and silently crept downstairs.

Peter tried to ask what was going on, and where they were going, but Trent just kept saying, ‘you’ll see,’ and ‘shut the fuck up and trust me.’ It wasn’t until he was walking up the steps to Cathedral hall, he had an odd feeling, a slight buzz in his stomach. It heightened when they took a turn for the girls section.

“Hey, Simpson, if this is a planned parenthood thing-”

“Shut the fuck up, Parker.” Out of nowhere he stopped, Peter almost ran into him. Trent banged on an decorated door, a whiteboard with Ally’s name, the other one had been swiped, the name unclear. “I thought Ally was at the house?” Trent beat the door harder, “she is.”

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed, he was about to ask, yet again, why they were there. The answer came when the door flew open, eyes squinting at the hallway lighting, stands you. “You’re not Ally.”

Peter’s slightly surprised you’re home, he had no idea when or how you left last night. He also doesn’t really care.

“No shit,” you lightly scoffed when Trent shoved his way in, your shoulder hitting the doorframe. “Good morning to you, too, dick.” Peter gently walked in, making sure not to bump against you. It made you smile lightly, “good morning, Peter.” He nodded back, “morning.” Trent bounced on Ally’s bed, it produced a loud creak. “No wonder she’s always at the house.”

You sat on the edge of your own bed, gesturing to the spot next to you or your desk chair for a seating option for Peter; he chose the chair. Peter looked over your face while you woke up, your eyes puffy from being rubbed at, you stretched with arms over your head, a peek of skin showed your stomach.

“You look sick.” It snapped you from your daze, you frowned at Trent. “Thanks, it’s my natural beauty.” Trent pulled a sour look, “that’s what girls look like without makeup?” Peter doesn’t really notice a difference, and that’s not a bad thing. “It’s too early for your shit, Simpson.” He looks towards you, you poke your tongue out at Trent, a childish moment to prove you had someone on your side and not his.

Peter watches you lean back, velvety thighs on display. A hand goes behind your back, a plush resurfaced. Spider-Man sits on your lap, arms wrapped tight around his waist. He thinks it’s a squishmellow of some sort, he remembers he hooked up with a girl last year with at least twenty on her bed. She didn’t have a Spider-Man one though.

“How are you feeling?” You look tired, maybe a little hungover. Little to no energy. Peter thinks it’s the comedown of your previous night's choices. You grin, holding Spider-Man a little tighter. “Like a champ, you?”

Trent scoffs, “enough bullshit, wench. You know why we’re here.” Peter feels the hair on his neck stand up, Trent can be a prick, but he really has a vendetta against you. “Jesus Christ, Simpson. She’s a human being.” It’s the bare minimum, but it still makes you feel warm and fuzzy. “It’s okay, Peter. He’s just mad he can’t satisfy women.”

Trent flies up, “fuck you! I’m doing you a fucking favor and-” Peter stands up just as quick, pushing Trent back down with a hand on his shoulder. “Sit down, Simpson.” With Peter as mediator, you don’t worry about standing up for yourself.

“You’re not doing me a favor, I’m doing you a favor! You’re the one that couldn’t hold up your end of the bargain, you asshole!” Trent fights against Peter’s hold, “you’re the one that came to me!” You throw your Spider-Man to the side and step up, Peter backs up against your chest, literally using his body as a barrier. “You’re the one that involved Peter!”

Peter shoves hard on Trent’s chest, it sends him flying back into Ally’s bed. You step back, Peter’s doing his best to look between the two of you. It’s exasperated, “involved me in what?” It goes silent, you weren’t going to say anything, you were the one who told Trent to fix it. Trent’s the one that brought in Peter, Trent’s the one to surprise you with a visit.

Trent’s breathing is harsh, he’s more worked up than you are. You don’t know if it’s the situation or your comments, but you’re not saying a word until he does. “Look, your friend here, she’s the one that got us the intel on the other frats.” Trent’s a lot more gentle this time around, you think it may have something with the way Peter’s looking at him, daring him to try and make a move.

Peter glances back at you, you look away, a poster more interesting. “She needs something in return and I can’t help her. I told her to ask you and I’d look the other way, but someone had to be difficult.”

“I held up my end, Simpson. You do the same.” Trent huffed, “I fucking told you-” he lowered his voice at Peter’s glare, “- that I couldn’t do anything. I told you to ask Parker and you were the one that stormed out all pissed. I brought him here, isn’t that good enough?”

Your arms cross, no, it wasn’t good enough. “I never wanted to involve Peter, I told you that last night. I just wanted you to figure out a way to fix it.” Trent throws his arm out at Peter, “I did! He’s fucking here! He’s gonna fucking fix it!”

Peter feels like he’s going crazy, “fix what?” His chapter president rubs at his forehead, a heavy sigh. “You need to pledge… Fuck, what was his name?” You roll your eyes, you have little to no hope. “Isaac Barns.” Trent nods, “yeah, him. Parker, all I need you to do is pledge him and this-” an allover gesture to your body, “-goes away.”

Peter takes a second to let it sink in, he almost laughs, but it seems a little too real to be a joke. “Dirty rushing, really? You do know what’s at stake if I say yes, right?” Trent’s jaw looks like it’s about to break into a thousand pieces with the tension it’s under. “Yes, Parker, I know what I’m asking.” Peter runs his tongue over his teeth, “right, so you understand why I have to say no.”

You jump in, your hand on Peter’s arm, pulling him to face you. He’s staring at the placement, it’s sending a burn up and down, radiating heat. You pull away before he can shake your hold off, “please?” Peter steps away from Trent with a final warning glance, “tell me, freshman. Are you in a sorority?” You frown, “no.” He nods, like he already knew the answer. “Right. And are you aware of what could happen to me if I agree?” You have an idea, and it tells you it wouldn’t be good. “That’s if you get caught, you have Trent’s go ahead.”

Peter laughs, he doesn’t give a shit Trent’s right there. “You think I trust him to have my back? He’d throw me under the bus in a second.” Peter doesn’t know what you know, you look in Trent’s eyes when you respond, making it clear that that would never happen. “Then trust me, and trust me when I say he won’t.”

Trent looks away from Peter, he makes the connection in a second.

“What do you have on Simpson?” You sputter, you feel a flush of warmth coat you. “I’m not like… some blackmailer or anything.” Trent shouts out from the bed, “ha!” Your eyes flash to the same poster from before, nothing has changed. “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. President. Do you want to share with the peanut gallery?” Peter raises his hands, displeased, “don’t insult me and ask for a favor in the same breath.”

“Look, Parker, just fucking pledge the kid, alright? It stays between us. Don’t think I don’t have shit to lose by letting this happen. I have the same risk you do.” Peter disagrees, “you’re not the one pledging.” Trent stands up, “but I’m cutting whoever she tells me. We’re both playing dirty.”

Peter’s trying to think about it logically, he just doesn’t understand why. You have all the answers, they’re only there because of you. “Why?” You pause, “what, this guy your boyfriend or something?” You shake your head quickly, “no, no, no. Not at all. He doesn’t even know I’m doing this. He’s just a person I know who’s rushing, that’s it.”

Peter kisses his teeth and shakes his head in disbelief, “yeah, I don’t know about that.” Total defeat, you were at a loss. Your answer was Trent, if Peter wouldn’t do it, Trent needed to find someone who would. “Trent,” it comes out as a whine, a defiant toddler pointing at Peter.

“C’mon, Parker. Think about this. You’re smarter than your own good.” Peter sizes his president up, he really doesn’t like what he’s implying. “And I’m supposed to trust you?” You push on Peter’s arm, “no, you’re supposed to trust me. Trent won’t touch you, no matter your answer. Even though I really wish it was yes.”

Peter’s doing his best to push down all emotion, because if he wasn’t, he’d find out that he wanted to say yes. Just because you asked him. And that’s not who he is, or what he does. He’s known you for a week and he’s about to put his entire academic career at hand, it’s dehumanizing to himself. Witch.

“Fine.” You cheer, Peter’s whipped into a side hug. He claws your arms away from him, “I didn’t say yes. I’ll think about it, okay?” You nod, it’s enough for you, “thank you so much, Peter. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Trent throws his hands up, “hello? You’re welcome.” You sneer at him, “you did nothing but put it all on Peter.” Peter tilts his head, he didn’t think about it like that, but you’re right. “You’re insufferable and will never find a man to put up with that.” That was a blow, a harsh one at that. You’re pretty good at brushing things off, or firing back, but Trent went a little too far. He hit that deep down, hidden, insecurity.

You just really wanted to go back to sleep, the thought of Peter in your room no longer slightly excited you. You just wanted to be alone. “Jesus fucking Christ, Trent. Who the fuck says shit like that?” You shrug, “it’s obvious he was just giving me constructive criticism.” You try to joke, it doesn’t really work.

Peter looks down at you, it’s like you sunk down into the floor. Trent made you feel small. “It’s not funny, nothing about that was funny. That was fucked up, Simpson, the fuck is wrong with you?” There’s not an ounce of remorse on his face either, “sorry.” Peter wants to break his arm, instead he shoves him towards the door, nothing near gentle. “You’re a fucking dick.”

“Yeah, and you just wanna stick yours in her.” If he wouldn’t be at grounds of expulsion from the frat, Peter would’ve laid him the fuck out right then and there. “Shut the fuck up, Simpson. Just leave it alone.” He does, and throws the door open before parting you with a middle finger.

Peter pauses at the door, his eyes on your figure. It’s not like he cares about you or anything, Trent was a dick, an uncalled for amount of mean. “Don’t listen to him, he’s still reeling from that ‘can’t please a woman,’ comment.” You give a small smile, “thanks, Peter.”

Peter’s hand holds the door handle, a tight lipped grin. He doesn’t know why, but he feels like he just has to tell you. Clearing his throat, “hey, freshman?” You perk up, he finds himself looking down at your mouth, eyes trailing towards your collarbone. Peter stops himself, it’s not about that right now.

“You’re not… you’re not totally insufferable.”

Something about it makes you explode, you can’t stop the cheek hurting grin. For a second, Peter matches it. “Are you saying I’ll find a man to put up with me?” Peter shrugs a shoulder, “the world is pretty big, freshman. There’s gotta be at least one.”

At least Peter won’t think you’ll die alone, he might even be at your side. “Thanks, Peter. For everything. And for thinking about it, it means a lot to me.” Peter closing the door on himself, he briefly pauses, “just because I said I’d think about it, doesn’t mean I’ll do it.” You nod, “I know.”

“Good. I just didn’t want you to get disappointed.” Your eyes brighten, “you care about disappointing me?”

It goes unanswered, instead, Peter takes a deep inhale. “I’ll see you around.” With that, you were alone with Spider-Man once more.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 12TH, ESU DINING HALL.

The plastic chair next to Peter slides out, nickel legs scratch the tile underneath them.

“So, how are we feeling about a verdict?”

Peter doesn’t even flinch, he takes a bite of his sandwich. It was better before it was ruined by the presence of a demonic presence. Your hands drum on the table like you’re building yourself up for a yes, Peter thinks it’s funny you find him so easy.

“It’s been two days, freshman.” You huff dramatically, “not a freshman.”

“You act like one.”

This is the part where you question your attraction towards him, it’s proof to the saying ‘you can’t pick who you love.’ You lean closer, it’s not about semantics. Peter pulls back when you get too close, he must be scared of another hug.

“It’s a pretty easy answer, Peter. If you won’t do it, fine. But your president better figure out another way and quickly. We already have the PNM list, you make the choice sunday.”

It isn’t his problem but the more he knows about it, the more it becomes his. Peter can’t deny the curiosity, for a witch you have no real magic, beyond what you’ve casted on him.

Peter sighs, “alright, explain it to me. Sell it to me.” You sit straighter and fix your hair, clearing your throat you interlock your fingers on the table and begin to pitch. “I’m going on the ski trip this year, yay you.” You pout dramatically, “I needed money because my boyfriend isn’t a member of the frat and I wasn’t budgeted in.” Your words were a nod towards Ally, as if she couldn’t pay for it herself if she needed to.

Peter wants to bang his head against the table, there’s no fucking way he had to spend a week with you in a house. That’s constant communication. That’s hell.

“We bet every year on a member that makes it in, if we win, we get the money. I upped the stakes this year, and I know someone who signed up to rush.” You smile and poke at his arm, it’s solid. Peter looks down at your finger, you pull back and finish.

“That’s where you come in. You pick him.”

Peter crosses his arms over his chest while he tilts his chair back, he’s mulling it over in his mind. He looks over your face while he pokes at his cheek with his tongue, if that’s his concentration face, you hope to make him think a lot more.

“What do I get out of it?” In Peter’s mind, it’s a bit unfair. He’s putting his reputation, spot in the frat and possibly academic probation on the line. And he gets nothing out of it. He doesn’t even want anything in return, or nothing he can think of at the moment at least. It still feels like he has to bargain for something, he’d regret it later.

You try to hide the shock, you didn’t think Peter was that kind of guy. You didn’t know him, but you didn’t take him for a sexual favors type of person. You wanted to hook up with him, sure. But when he felt like it was owed to him, it felt icky.

“Oh,” you look around the room, your voice lowers. The deal took a dirty turn. “What, um…” You look back at him before escaping eye contact, you don’t feel as bold. “What did you have in mind?”

You didn’t hide the shock well, Peter’s chair is back on four legs with a slam. “No, god no.” Okay, he wasn’t asking for sex, but god no? Peter worded it wrong, you took it as a personal offense. “Not…” He’s not even going to try and explain that one out, he ditches the part where he would try to say ‘not that I wouldn’t have sex with you, because I would, but…’

“I’m not asking for you to fuck me, I just meant I’m putting a lot on the line for a girl who assaulted me and a guy I barley like.” Assault is a harsh word, you’d fight him on it but the last part mattered more. You could give him the dirt on Trent, he said if anyone knew he would prefer it to be Peter.

“Wanna know what I have on Trent?” You have his attention, suddenly Peter looks very interested in what you have to say. He nibbles on his bottom lip for a second before nodding, for this part, you really lean in.

“He failed out. The school sent him a letter saying he was dismissed, he had a fourteen average.” Peter’s trying to connect the dots, for once, he truly had no idea what was going on in the frat house. “His dad donated eighty-six grand, anonymously, and the next day? Bam. Reenlisted and all roles reinstated, like nothing ever happened.” Peter’s not surprised one bit, it’s very on brand for the Simpson family, to pay their way out of trouble. At least he can say you didn’t leave him empty handed, it’s good ammo to have in the back of his pocket.

“I’ll consider your request more seriously.” It’s something, and you’ll celebrate it, you pull him into a hug, just for a quick second to squeal in his ear. You’re shrugged off in a second, you don’t care. “Thank you! See, I just knew I picked the good one!”

The good one?

You’re up and pushing the seat in, your bag hung over a shoulder. “I’ll see you friday?” In relation to the weekly party, he nods slowly, like you’re an idiot. “I do live there, yes.” You’re unfazed, you’ve come to realize he’s just a mildly grumpy person. It’s mostly cute.

“Will you let me know then, is that enough time?” Peter will do anything to have you leave, he wants five minutes of peace with his lunch before he has thermodynamics. “Yeah, sure, whatever.” Your eyes sparkle, he has to look back at his plate. “Thank you, Peter. You’re the bestest.”

You really, truly are a witch. Because his sandwich tasted a whole lot sweeter when you walked away. It turned into sog the second you placed yourself at Ally and Paul’s table. Ally’s eyes flashing over to his, a grin when he was caught looking your way. He finished in record time, he needed to get out of the room, it was starting to get a little too warm for his comfort.

Ally started in the second you placed yourself across from her, eyes flashing to where you previously were. “Hanging out with Parker?” You shrug, if it helps getting her off your back, it helps. “He’s cute.” A squeal, she pulls at her boyfriend's arm. “Did you hear that? Matty, ask Parker if he’s into her.”

Matt crushes a coke can, a burp follows. “No.” Ally’s face scrunches up, “why not?” Matt’s swiping at his phone, you can’t tell what game he’s playing, the glare from the lights are too bad. “Cause it’s not my business, or yours.” Ally pulls away from him entirely, her arms crossed over her chest in a huff. Uh oh, she’s mad.

“Babe, can you get me a water? My wallet is in my backpack.” When she makes no move, he peeks over, “please? I can’t pause this level.” It’s a huff from his girlfriend, “what? You’re mad at me now? Look, I can’t even ask him if I wanted to, he’s leaving.” You look over your shoulder, Peter’s walking out with headphones stuffed in his ears, blind to the outside noise. How lucky.

“Yeah, good thing you don’t live together or anything, Matt.” It has his total attention, “no need for that hostility, honey. If you want me to ask, I’ll ask.” It’s the right move, and he played right into Ally’s hand. A cluster of kisses to his cheek, “thank you, Matty. Love you.” A smile’s back on his face, his reward was his request being honored.

The second Ally’s out of earshot you laugh at her boyfriend. “She plays you like a fool.”

Matt doesn’t care one bit. “Yeah, love makes you do that. You’ll find out, she-devil.”

You just hope you’re not the fool.

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 13TH, QUEENS, NEW YORK.

A six car pileup on the bridge caught Spider-Man’s attention, adrenalin courses his veins, any traces of that six egg omelet from Linda weighing him down vanishes. A screech of his name, he clocks it instantly. A woman, barely fourty. Spider-Man knows who it is, it’s the reporter that called him a Spider-Menace last week. Oh, how the mighty fall.

A head tilt at the woman, she’s panicking. Thrashing in her seat, crumpled between glass and leather. She’s begging him for help, he watches for a moment before speaking over the screams. “Calm down, I’m gonna help you. Just felt like being a menace.” Tears, she speed runs apologies, tells him it’s just a job and her son loves him.

“Alright, alright, come here.’ A grown woman, clinging to his hip is almost comedic. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…” Spider-Man doesn’t need to hear it a million times, it doesn’t mean much to him after the first one. “You’re alright, just wait over here for the fire department, okay?”

There’s countless other shouts, he’s already running back up the freeway. Spider-Man has no plans to stay in the city after this, no, instead Peter is going to take the long train back and listen to a podcast. But right now, Spider-Man has a job to do.

CATHEDRAL HALL.

Three copies of the same page, everyone calls a name.

Ally starts, “I call Conner Frise.”

Prince next, “Sam Mason.”

Ally pokes your shoulder, “c’mon, what’s your pick?”

You pretend to think about it, two pairs of eyes waiting expectantly. You grin, “Isaac Barns.” Confidence spills, “and I’m gonna win.”

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 15TH, SIGMA NU CHAPTER HOUSE

Peter’s clouded in infatuation. If he was animated, he’d have hearts and stars swirling around his head. Maybe it was the booze that had him feeling so loose, for once dropping the urge to push you away, and to pull you closer. Or maybe it was you. All he could smell was your perfume, it choked him in the right ways. Something he’d be smelling long after you were gone, something that made him want to breathe in against your neck.

You haven’t left him alone all night, circling back over and over until all he could think about was you, you, you.

He didn’t know a neck could be so pretty, how he’d kiss over your pulse and hope it would race as much as his. And he never really noticed hair, until it framed your face. Peter was never much on picking up sounds, but now he’s heard your laugh, the one he pulled from you, he’d never be able to unhear it.

And your voice. It whispered a song into his ears, it sent him leaning in, begging for more of the inflections. Peter didn’t care what you were talking about, as long as you were speaking to him, he’d listen. He wasn’t one to notice clothes, only when they fit just right or left little to the imagination. But on you, everything was your color.

Peter can’t think of anything else but your lips, they’re puffed while you spin words. Velvet tumbles produced, hints of a smile around your ‘S’s. It’s like you don’t notice him getting closer, as he steps forward, you step back. You weren’t trying to escape, it was subconscious, you were making more room for him, you don't realize he doesn't want space.

“It was really kind of sad, because the whole time you were rooting for the main character,” he’d asked you about a book he saw in your room. He doesn’t really care about it.

“Right,” one step closer.

“But then it all comes down at the end and you realize he really wasn’t a good guy,” Peter takes another step, your back brushes the brick wall. Little pricks dig into your shirt, it doesn’t stop you.

“And then?”

You smile, “this is where it gets good,” Peter leans his hand on the wall next to your head, you make no notice. “It is.” It’s more of a statement than a question, he’s relaying it to his own situation.

“You find out he set up his friend,” it was the twist, you’d been setting it up, but Peter has no reaction. You wonder if he was even listening to you, maybe it would’ve been better if he had read it himself.

“Are you listening to me? Cause I just kind of just spoiled the whole thing.”

Peter can’t stop himself, he leans in. His head hangs low, you raise your chin to look in his eyes. How have you still not picked up on his hints? “Why’d he set him up?” You hum, a sparkle forms in your eyes, he was listening.

“Well, if we're talking about my personal analysis, I think it’s cause-”

Your lips are pillowy, puffed under his mouth as they’re wrapped around your words. Your skin is warm under his hands, he can feel your hips burning his palms over your clothes. Peter tugs you closer while simultaneously pushing you further into the brick, when you hum into his kiss, he licks your bottom lip.

Open mouth kisses, your hands tug at the curls on the back of his neck, he’s not one for girls playing with his hair. But you, he wants you to touch wherever you want. He can’t fucking breathe, but he doesn’t care, you’re enough of a breath of fresh air. Peter feels more alive in this moment than he has in a long time.

You pull from him, puffs of air tumble. Peter’s desperate for more, you’re just so sweet. Wet marks dot from your jaw to your neck, your hands tug at the lapels of his flannel. “Peter,” it’s breathless, he wonders if it’s the kiss or him.

Hands tuck under your thighs, you gasp as you’re pulled up to equal height on the wall. Your legs loosely straddle his waist, nails digging into his shoulder when he hums over the middle of your throat between gentle bites and smoothing his tongue over the attack. “Fuck,” it’s a whimper, you don’t mean to, but fuck.

Maybe he shouldn’t have cornered you like this, but what’d you expect looking at him like that?

Peter retraces his steps, all you can think is that he tastes as sweet as he feels. It was everything you’d been pining for, and more. You were screaming in color, each grip of his hands felt like water paint, soaking deep and spreading.

Would it be selfish if you wished he felt the same?

“Parker, you out here?”

You squeak, your feet hit the ground. Peter’s head is spinning, his instinct to get as far away as possible. “Yeah,” it’s airy. He clears his throat, you look over his face, he’s avoiding eye contact. “Peter,” you feel a jolt when he backs away. A stab when he steps around the corner, you try to follow, he’s quicker.

You feel everything crumble when you realize he doesn’t want anyone to know he was with you.

“Where you at? We’re mixing everclear for the PNM’s.”

“Peter,” it’s on deaf ears. He doesn’t even look at you, how could he kiss you like that and then act like it was nothing? Why would he kiss you like that if it meant nothing?

“Right here,” you watch his back disappear. “Tequila if we’re evil, beer to make them puke.” His frat brother laughs, “you’re a sick man, Parker.”

It really, really doesn’t feel nice to be left behind in the cold. Especially when he just made you feel so warm. And it really doesn’t feel right when you want to cry, and it feels humiliating when you give him a grace period, just so you didn’t follow him from the back of the house. Just so no one would see you, just so no one would know what just happened.

Just so you could keep it to yourself.

You feel nothing when a shoulder hits yours, your fingers feel hot from the contrast of the breezy outdoors to the crowded, humid room of bodies. Ally’s arm hangs over your neck, you want to scream.

Peter’s eyes catch your frown, he should’ve done more. But if he doesn’t understand anything, how would his frat brothers? He feels bad, and a little more sober than he should be, a little too sober to have done what he just did. A line of shots, Peter adds an two extra, but he doesn’t add everclear, he chooses Fireball.

A pink, plastic shot glass slid in front of you. You look up, Peter’s waiting and watching, he raises his own. “Cheers, freshman.” It’s something, he’s waiting on your call, you’re so close and you can’t blow it now. You plaster on a smile and shake Ally’s arm off, you raise it up.

“Cheers, Parker.”

Peter must’ve had more than he thinks, because wow, what a gross feeling.

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 17TH, SIGMA NU CHAPTER HOUSE

Peter does his best to be a good person, part of that is knowing when you fuck up. And what he did at his party on friday, was a fuck up. It wasn’t that he particularly cared about you, or your feelings, but he could admit that he pulled a shitty move. So shitty he dodged you the rest of the night and left you high and dry with his answer about your favor.

You didn’t even have a way to try and contact him, other than beating down his door but even you knew that would be a bad idea. Which leads him to now, standing on the front lawn, with thirty two potential pledges.

Peter’s turn to bid. A terrible idea. But all he could think about was getting back in your good graces and how much it fucking annoyed him to want that. Peter can feel Trent’s eyes burning into him, he takes a step forward, boldness in his chest.

“I bid Isaac Barns.”

It would either be the worst or best decision of his life and for whatever reason, you’re worth the gamble.

CATHEDRAL HALL

its.parker requested to follow you.

Your eyes widened, suddenly you’re very awake. Peter’s the one that kissed you, Peter’s the one that walked away, Peter’s the one that ignored you. Peter’s the one that followed you. Mixed messages, but it proved something. It wasn’t his main with ten pictures, it was his personal, his finsta, the one full of his personality.

You nibble on your bottom lip, it shouldn’t be that easy for him. Tapping on his account you hit the request button, just because you follow him doesn’t mean he gets to follow you. Mind spinning, you replay friday night again.

The tension eased and multiplied in one action. Peter had made you feel butterflies in the deepest pits of your stomach, when he kissed down your neck, when he wrapped your legs around his waist, when he went in for more, when he kissed you first.

Even thinking about it makes your cheeks hurt from a grin, you squeal out and kick your feet in your bed. Peter Parker kissed you, and it meant something. It had to, something tells you that Peter doesn’t jump without thinking.

Peter’s holding his breath while refreshing his page, still no notifications. He’s worried he blew it that night, not that it matters, it was just a kiss. Everyone kisses, if you really think about it, kisses don’t mean much. At least that’s what he tells himself.

spider.luvr66 requested to follow you.

If he acts now, he’d be a bit crazy. You hadn’t responded to him, but he doesn’t care. He’ll wait a couple minutes, then respond. It feels like his brain is melting, he’s not supposed to, and doesn’t feel like this. It’s against who he is now.

But, fuck, you make it difficult for him to not think about you. Peter swears you’re a witch.

Accept. spider.luvr66 is now following you.

Follow request accepted, you are now following its.parker.

You sit up, it was quick, you wonder if he was waiting for the notification. It doesn’t matter, you have the Peter Parker bible in your hands, and you were about to do some research.

You finally had access to his posts, and you were about to scroll through every single one. But the most recent one was the most important of all. A picture of Peter, crossed arms back to back with a slightly familiar face. The caption told you everything you needed to know about Peter.

‘big brother season.’

You had your bid and he posted the proof.

Whatever he did friday was forgiven. That wasn’t who he was, but this, putting himself on the line for you, this was his true character and whether he wanted you to notice that or not, you did.

And it was a bold act for a guy who pretended he didn’t kiss you breathless.

#peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker blurb #tasm!peter x you #frat!peter parker #frat!peter #uni #my writing

444 notes · View notes

realchemistry · 19 days ago

Text

Breaking down all the Buddie from "Confessions"

Did I write a photo review with over 5000 words dissecting the episode? Yeah, I did... Hope y'all enjoy!

Gonna ignore the first call because other than the bad mustache CGI/shots where it's not even there, there wasn't anything of substance. I wonder if they used that old call cause they had to fill up time, were short on budget, something else fell through or what happened.

So let's move to Eddie going to church. After 23 or so years he felt the need to confess his sins. But after an explanation of the crazy stuff that went down with Kim, including mentioning how Eddie lied to his son, his best friend and his girlfriend, he concluded he's not deserving of forgiveness and fled. The priest looked conflicted and that's supposed to be that.

Eddie, catholic guilt and all, went to church to confess. It's like the most desperate measure, I imagine, but desperate times... He gave the priest his name. Interesting. I got so emotional when he described Chris and talked about his optimism. Lying to Buck was pretty much at the top of the list, huh? Like, Eddie knew how bad he was behaving because their relationship's made up of truths. His talk in the kitchen with Buck was actually instrumental to him seeing how wrong all of it was. They need to be married immediately. The fact that one of the prayers (?) Eddie was meant to repent with was called "Our Fathers" was also interesting because it's coming from a priest or father but also, more obviously, Eddie's got a million daddy issues. Ramón traumatized him and Eddie said he traumatized Chris and Chris ended up going to Texas to live with Eddie's father.

The Buck and T date scene was super interesting for many, many reasons:

Buck thought he had the upper hand, saying he'd pay for dinner and trying to get T to guess the reason behind it.

T already knew it's their anniversary, which Buck clearly didn't expect.

T didn't just know, he actually brought Buck a gift for the occasion.

Interestingly enough, last season we learned that Buck didn't like basketball in the episode in which his jealousy and Eddie and T and him being bisexual happened.

T, after SIX months of dating the man, somehow didn't know that and gifted Buck tickets to see the Lakers.

For some odd reasons, T told Buck he didn't even have to take him to the game, "Take Eddie if you want," he suggested.

Buck looked confused but not exactly averse to that idea and asked, "really?"

And then T went, "and die" and then Buck replied, "okay, that sounds right."

Now, let's go through all that. It's their anniversary, they're out for dinner, and they apparently had a good time and then it's like they're completely out of sync. Buck wanted to pay for dinner to commemorate their anniversary, thinking T had missed it, whereas not only did T not miss it but he also bought him a present. Problem was said present wasn't something Buck actually cared for, which T seemed unaware of. The joke about taking Eddie... Why even suggest that? Was that a test? Did Buck fail it by wondering if that was really a possibility?

Then the woman interrupted the date and asked for a picture, with some unnecessary touching involved. I truly didn't get why Buck grabbed his own phone to take the pics... Was this second nature to him? A practical way to have an excuse to ask for the woman's phone number to send the pics? She wondered this and Buck denied it but there's literally no other reason to do that. T looked at the whole thing amusedly. Buck took the pics and went back to the table, expressing how weird that was.

Was that weird? I'm honestly so confused by that scene, like... people ask strangers to take their pics all the time. Yes, some of those might be an excuse to flirt but they're at a restaurant, which isn't exactly the greatest place to be trying to pick up someone. Also, Buck made it weird with the whole using his phone thing. Even if the woman was flirting, which she seemed to be, it didn't have to be made into anything. We can assume from this that Buck is uncomfortable being flirted at in front of T but he might also not feel great about feeling attracted to somebody other than his boyfriend who's right there to see it all.

Here's where it actually got weirder. T acknowledged the fact that it's okay to look and then Buck remarked that T didn't do that. T explained he's gay by saying he's a Kinsey 6. Buck, for some reasons, didn't pick on the meaning of that so T had to explain it. That's just... I call bullshit on that. Buck, recently bisexual, lover of research and internet deep dives would know ALL about it. This scene, I gotta say, felt super wonky. At points it was meant to but at others, like this one, it just... felt off. There's also the fact that Oliver and L have zero chemistry...

Anyway, back to the date. So T didn't know that Buck disliked basketball and Buck didn't know that T was gay? After SIX months of being together? What in the hell? Why were they only talking about that at this point? I don't think full disclosure or knowing your partner's history is a must at all, but considering Buck's curiosity and the fact that he was newly out, I figured all these subjects would've part of the first conversations between them. I'm not sure what to think. Was the writing completely off? Were they unable to come up with a better excuse to bring about the past partners talk and resorted to this? It's baffling. And since it's canon, whatever the reason, I found that the whole date showcased how little they actually knew about each other, which could only be a bad sign of the things to come for their relationship.

Of course, after that comment, T revealed he was engaged to a woman and called it off. Once again, the dialogue... T saying the woman went "nuts" after their break up, taking up some "himbo" half her age... Buck figured she was just trying to get over T, and then he mentioned the name of the woman. Of course it was Abby. Of course. Buck was literally having a crisis there, but the waiter showed up and asked how everything was. T, completely out of tune with what Buck was clearly trying to process, said it was "perfect." The waiter asked if he could get them anything else and T said "no, I think we're good." Buck looked so the opposite of good. Then the waiter wondered "who gets the damage" and, at last, a flawless piece of dialogue with T pointing at Buck and saying "That would be him." Buck was handed the check and the waiter told him, "whenever you're ready, no rush" and left while Buck looked like he was having a heart attack.

So, yeah, the date was a complete disaster. It's a mix between the actors not clicking, the dialogue serving the plot instead of Buck as a character (and Abby and even the show) and finally the actual plot dictating that it had to be a disaster. Honestly, the moment this bit ended, I knew they were going to be done.

Next, Buck went to dispatch to talk to Maddie. Why didn't he talk this through with Eddie, Hen and Chim? Curious... Maddie wondering how many men Abby had turned gay was hilarious. But I can't believe they didn't squeeze in the fact that Buck's bi there. They didn't do it during the date, though it was implicit, but here they had the perfect opportunity since they hadn't done it before. It would've taken a second for Buck to correct Maddie. Again, the writing this episode was all over the place, specially cause Buck looked at Maddie offended and Maddie clarified she was joking but then Buck sorta explained himself and T... anyways. Josh showed up then, and something was totally off with the actor's hair btw, I couldn't focus for a second there.

Josh eavesdropped and caught the kissing a boy part and eagerly asked if there was another boy... Buck was quick to deny that. Well, there's Eddie... Maddie and Buck explained the whole situation and Josh apparently knew her but they weren't close. And then, again, this whole thing just didn't make sense. Buck remarked that T led her on, said he loved her and then hurt her. Maddie thought Buck was afraid T would do that to Buck but Buck denied this and said, "I thought I knew him" and that he didn't think T would be capable of being dishonest and cruel.

Let me rewind for a second. Why was Buck under the impression that he knew T? Buck didn't even know T was gay... Also, didn't Buck know about T's past? He was worse than cruel to Hen and Chim... Truly, was he not told about all of that? I just, the use of the world cruel here... don't get me wrong, leading someone on is cruel but the whole being gay and repressing it part, while not excusing it, would at least explain T's actions. But the way he acted towards Chim and Hen... that had nothing to do with self-repression. It just didn't. I need someone to explain to me in detail how come Buck was deluded to think he knew T when at this point I'd be shocked to learn he knew T's last name.

Then the Josh speech happened. I wasn't happy with it at all. First of all, what's Buck loving him to do with any of it? If T was a cruel person, then Buck loving him wouldn't justify any of what he did to Abby. Buck looked super not in love as an answer, which was hilarious to me because of course he didn't love T, he didn't know the man!!! Josh backtracked from that word and asked a series of questions aimed at... gauging how much Buck cared for T? IDEK, it was all pretty ridiculous from the start. Also, first two questions made sense for Buck to answer affirmatively but T was literally such a plot device that there hadn't been a single instance in which Buck had shown that he was thinking about T or making T's concerns and happiness his own. These things, though, get positive answers in canon as far as Buddie is concerned. The future question was interesting because Buck's answer was "I could." It's never a definitive answer, it's another instance of "I guess" from the time T echoed "my attention?" when they first kissed. It's like Buck was convincing himself then. Josh took that to advice Buck to stop judging T because Buck didn't know what he was talking about.

The speech went into pre and post Glee world and all that nonsense. I truly hate a lot of things this episode chose to be. Was mentioning a Ryan Murphy show in a RM show a necessity? I don't wanna get into what Glee did or didn't do for the queer world, the point here is actually moot because T and Abby weren't a thing before Glee. Again, whatever experience with coming out T and Josh had, it had nothing to do with what Buck was asking. Buck was worried about the side of T he claimed not to know and how cruel he could be. I think the way T referred to her and the situation was also pretty awful, in the present tense. Even if one thought T was protecting himself by being with Abby, there is still room for judgement. We have Hen and Karen, in this same show, not being cruel to anyone, for one. Also, T didn't fight a single battle. He treated his coworker who was out like scum and was racist towards Chim. T wasn't an activist fighting for his life and his rights, he was just a bad person all around as far as we know. He had no scars to show. We can pretend he had an internal battle, maybe a family issue with his coming out but there's nothing to honor him for.

I cannot believe this show did that speech so awfully and pretended it was the greatest thing since Jack Shephard's "live together, die alone." Truly, they thought they had done a brilliant job and it's utter bullshit throughout.

Moving on, Eddie went to get juice... but then he changed his mind and got water instead. Who's there to witness that but Father Brian. Eddie's outside, drinking his water looking gloomy about it when Brian asked him of he could take a seat. Eddie allowed him to and for some reason, as Brian was sitting down, looked around. Brian told Eddie about being there for the first time, as if compelled, and then asked Eddie if he went there often. Eddie immediately assumed he was being hit on. Now, whether this is indicative of Eddie being hit on a lot or he just took those words as the line they sometimes can be and interpreted it that way, I hope we'll find out soon. Either way, Eddie told Brian "no offense, I'm straight." The lady doth protest... Hilariously enough, Brian's answer wasn't "me too" or "I'm not interested" but "I'm celibate". Eddie took that in and then Brian introduced himself and revealed that he knew Eddie. Eddie was processing that and the Father part, his hand still in the air.

Brian mentioned that he noticed that Eddie chose the juice initially and then got the water instead. He asked Eddie why he did that and Eddie kinda asked "decided I wanted water?" Brian posed that Eddie was punishing himself, denying himself because Eddie didn't feel worthy. Eddie sighed and, "I don't feel worty of juice?" Brian went straight (haha) to the point, "Of joy." Eddie chuckled and looked around and spoke in a low voice as he said he didn't have a lot to be joyful about because Brian was bringing up something Eddie had confessed to him in public. Eddie's well aware he's in public... Brian started listing the things that Eddie had, Chris, his parents, his job and his mustache. Eddie was kinda not happy but that last one got him laughing and blushing. He then confessed that he grew the mustache because he couldn't grow a full beard due to the LAFD. Brian concluded the mustache was a disguise and Eddie said it was something like that. Brian asked what Eddie's afraid of seeing in the mirror and Eddie said, "A failure. A man who doesn't deserve forgiveness. Or joy." Brian said that's now what go wanted for Eddie, that he'd already forgiven him. Eddie repeated that he doesn't deserve that and uncapped the bottle to take a sip of the water. Brian told him to earn it, and to stop punishing himself in the meantime. He remarked that Eddie spent his life in service and he understood that but they couldn't take care of others if they didn't take care of themselves. Eddie smiled and said he understood and Brian told him that after praying, he wanted Eddie to do something frivolous, something fun, something that expressed pure joy. Eddie told him he'd think about it.

The Eddie scenes were clearly written by someone else because they were all pretty on point. We had Eddie conflicted, and while it could just be him preferring water (the alternative is truly devastating to me so I want to believe Eddie isn't punishing himself through food), Brian decided to go with it to get Eddie to reflect about what he was doing to himself and it worked. Eddie didn't run away like he did in church but Eddie was shown to be aware of his surroundings, so the fact that he claimed to be straight with all of his chest... Why did he do that? Why did he think he was being hit on in the first place? Why was that moment necessary within this scene? Was juice really a representation of joy? Was joy a metaphor for something else? What were tptb trying to show or say here? Would a heterosexual character need to affirm himself as such? Would a repressed one? Thoughts, so many thoughts!!!!

The well emergency happened and it wasn't about Eddie, but it was interesting cause they seem to be doing Greatest Hits for some reason... Now I gotta ask, wouldn't Eddie, as a medic, know that getting the kid oxygen wouldn't work? Why was Hen explaining that to him? Honestly, the writing this episode... Buck's first idea was to dig... funny. Eddie said someone had to get down there and Bobby told him he wasn't gonna fit this time. Interesting. Bobby announced they would pull the big brother out after two minutes no matter what, specifically addressing Buck and Eddie. Interesting.

So it wasn't about Eddie because it wasn't the same Eddie. The pipe was smaller and Eddie didn't fit. But Eddie also didn't fit himself. He disguised himself with a mustache to avoid looking at his face in the mirror because he felt like a failure. He was shown in an episode entitled "Masks" at home taking down Halloween decorations all on his own. Bobby made sure that both Buck and Eddie knew the clock was ticking and they had to abide by it this time. Unlike Eddie's well, when Eddie cut the line and Hen refused to have Buck look for him because they'd end up with two cut lines. No more lines being cut? No more alternative ways to escape? Maybe I'm reading way too much but the camera did show Buck and Eddie's reaction as Bobby singled them out.

Back at the loft, T said he had a spot right out front and they should Uber to the movie so he didn't lose it. That phrasing... Buck agreed but asked to talk first. T replied positively, "we got time." Again, funny way to put it. They were both going to the movies so why was T the one who was going to lose it if they didn't get the Uber? You know who actually got an Uber with Buck recently, right? Also, "we got time".... famous last words. He'd just said they didn't have time but then said they did and, well, as it turned out, they didn't.

They sat down around the island and Buck brought up the story at the restaurant that T shared with him about how he "almost got engaged." This was odd and T corrected Buck, "I did get engaged. What I didn't do is get married." Buck said he appreciated T's honesty and that he wanted to be honest with him. T knew this spelled trouble and Buck denied it before taking out his phone and passing it over to show T pictures of Buck and Abby. T was surprised at first but then he scrolled to a pic of Buck and Abby kissing. Buck announced he was the himbo. T agreed it was crazy, after Buck put it like that, but added it was a little awkward. Buck decided to go closer and said it was like that for him as well at first, and that he should had been honest at dinner, but T asked or gathered that it had freaked him out a little. Buck said yes to this and T explained that if he had known, he wouldn't had used the word himbo because he didn't think Buck's one. Buck claimed that he was, at least before Abby, because what they had wasn't that, not for him. Buck said it was the most transformative relationship of his life until then. Buck said one of the reasons he's comfortable with T was that T's comfortable with himself. T said he wasn't always that way and Buck said he's aware and it made him admire T more. And then dropped the bomb, saying he wanted T to move in with him. WHAT?

No, really, WHAT? Buck really got deranged thoughts cause why on Earth would he ask T to move in? They clearly didn't know each other, they didn't love each other either, so explain how this made sense?? I'm hoping that it's a case of tptb purposefully having Buck spiral and go from zero to a hundred. There's also parallels between this and Eddie and Marisol, with Buck and Eddie asking their partners to move in when their relationships were clearly not at that stage.

T's reaction to Buck's words was crystal. While Buck said he was ready to take the next step and then, for entirely insane reasons, made it clear that he wasn't proposing marriage and or an engagement, though that'd be a possibility thanks to the brave people that came before like T. WHAT? Really, no, I'm so serious. I fucking cannot with this dialogue. Moving in, the suggestion, was bad enough, but bringing up marriage? Attributing the fact that they had that right thanks to people like T? SERIOUSLY? This was atrocious. I know Oliver was thinking of his bank account while delivering those lines because they were as non sensical as they could get.

"Why be apart when we can be together?" Buck finally asked. T said that's sweet but he couldn't move in. Buck wondered the why and T answered, "Because... I know how this ends." And my heart literally stopped or skipped a beat or something. I legit thought he was gonna bring up Eddie or a hint and, well, he kinda did, though not directly.

Buck asked what that meant and T explained. He mentioned Buck's qualities but then said that Buck's feelings were new and so it was all exciting and it felt like forever but he's still figuring himself out, which was good. Buck asked what he was saying and T said that no matter how bad he wanted to be, he wasn't his last but his first. Buck interjected that they could be the same but T said they usually weren't. If he were to move in, Buck wouldn't mean to but he'd end up breaking T's heart and he didn't think he could deal with that. He got up to leave, saying he should go and Buck told him to wait and asked him if he had just broken up with him, to which T replied, "yes, I guess I did. Believe me, I didn't see it coming either. Should've known that parking spot was too good to be true. I'll see you around, Buck."

At last, free! But while the beginning of the conversation was terrible, it ended on a high note. There's a lot of questions, like: according to what he said, T knew there wasn't a future between them. So I'm guessing here that after six months, they hadn't actually discussed that because Buck was clearly on a different page. T knew they weren't long term while Buck was thinking of moving together and being together for good. Make it make sense, how were these two dating not knowing anything about each other and not discussing basic relationship stuff??? T knew that Buck had to figure himself out yet he was still with him hoping it'd be casual without actually talking about it??? Yet he later claimed he didn't see a break up coming and he could see his heart being broken?

Now, my shipper heart wants to believe the between-the-lines reading of this scene had Eddie written all over. Eddie is how it'll end... And the fact that T's answer to Buck's question contained the "guess" this time around, mirroring Buck's response to "my attention"... INTERESTING. It was all a guessing game between BT, It's also the first time he called Buck by his name, which was the first and probably last because we're not gonna see him ever again. I was glad Buck asked if they were done because we all know he got confused about it with Abby... So long, T, you will not be missed. Buck's loft door opened and later on, another did...

Finally, we had Eddie. My boy. Looking at himself in the mirror and getting rid of his disguise.

And then... I literally felt so many things at once, y'all! The music, the shot... I couldn't believe it was about to happen. And then the mole made an appearance and Eddie was wearing pink and tighty whities and I swear I couldn't. I just, even rewatching to write this... I love him so much!!!!!!!!!! I was so happy to see Eddie letting go of his disguise and allowing himself to have that joy. The fact that Ryan looked like that... I was fighting for my life the whole time, NEGL.

I kept thinking Buck was going to show up midway. I was truly bracing myself for it. But the doorbell rang. Eddie looked through the peephole. Buck was there. Eddie opened the door, nodded at him and Buck gave him a beer as an answer to an unasked question and got in. Eddie closed the door and looked at the beer, at Buck and at the beer again. He made a face and then climbed the sofa. Buck was already drinking when the camera panned to him. Eddie opened his beer and drank from it. Scene.

LISTEN. I was unhinged already because they had Ryan dancing like that. But then the final scene happened and I just... I don't know how I'll survive what I hope it's to come.

Let's break that one down:

Eddie decided to follow Brian's words. Eddie didn't forgive himself but he decided to stop punishing and disguising himself in the meantime.

The way Eddie looked at himself in the mirror, both before and after he shaved off his mustache... My heart!!!

Eddie allowed himself to do something frivolous, something fun, something that expressed pure joy. The fact that he chose to dance half naked around his house... that's very babygirl of him, and I don't say this lightly.

The pink... the moves like the ones from the bachelor party... I felt crazy.

I kept waiting for Buck to show up, like my mind was half insane at what I was seeing and half insane at the possibility of Buck seeing it as well.

The doorbell rang instead.

Why didn't Buck use his keys?

It was the perfect opportunity for Eddie to put on some pants. Eddie didn't do that… Neither before or after looking who it was.

But, really, why didn't Buck use his keys? WHY????????

Was it to hammer the fact that Eddie was comfortable opening up his door to Buck while not wearing pants?

Was it so Eddie could see him standing on the other side of the door, mimicking Brian's view of Eddie in the confessionary? Will there be something for Buck to confess in the future? To Eddie specifically???

Buck wasn't looking at Eddie when Eddie saw him behind the door, btw...

Eddie opened his door and they looked at each other and said not a word but understood each other perfectly.

I truly hate the continuity error with the shirt collar. It's gonna hunt me forever.

Buck made himself at home while Eddie considered the beer.

Remember how Eddie's choices were water or juice? Well, what about a third secret option? BEER. Buck's beer, in fact. INTERESTING.

I went nuts and will continue to go nuts at Eddie climbing the sofa. Whose choice was that? I need to know. It was so freaking cute!!!

The camera went steady and Buck was already drinking from his bottle. Eddie, on the other hand, uncapped the bottle like he did with the water, and the shot ended as he drank the beer.

The contrast in the colors of their clothes… the fact that Eddie was looking to the side while Buck was looking ahead.

Was all of this symbolic of the fact that Buck already figured his sexuality out while Eddie's just starting? I'd like to think so.

Was it symbolic of Buck reaching conclusions he'd later have to confess to Eddie before Eddie arrives to those same conclusions himself? I'd also like this very much.

Now, the episode was called "Confessions" and Buck and Eddie didn't speak to each other. Not a single word. Even in that last scene, the only one in which they actually interacted, they didn't use words to communicate.

I see this lack of dialogue between Buck and Eddie in two ways:

First, it could show how good a relationship Buck and Eddie have in order to not utter a sound and still get each other completely. Regardless of all the issues I had with the writing, I can safely say that Buck and T were the complete opposite and lacked communication all around. The space and lack thereof reflected this too. Buck and Eddie know each other so well and Buck went directly to sit down on the couch, waiting for Eddie. Eddie followed right behind. BT, though... Buck stepped away from their table and the whole conflict with T's dating history started. Buck sat very far from T at the loft and only got close to be broken up with. Incredibly enough, that final shot with Buck and Eddie sitting together at Eddie's couch was the first that ever happened... Maybe that's foreshadowing something else, like couch theory related stuff? I never really spiraled about it before but I might soon.

Second, it could indicate there's something Buck and Eddie aren't saying to each other. They didn't speak to each other because they can't -- they're not ready or aware that there is something to confess. They remained silent because it isn't time yet but if they were to confess something, it would be impossible to take back. It would change everything. It will.

This is a legit insane post. When I say they're driving me nuts, I mean it and this is proof. Even though it's the longest ever, I probably forgot stuff that I might add tomorrow.

Now please share your thoughts on the episode and Buddie and everything so I don't feel alone in my madness. <3

#911 ABC #911 #Buddie #Buck and Eddie #Eddie Diaz #Evan Buckley #Buddie Meta #911 Meta #Ryan Guzman #Oliver Stark #realchemistry #this is actually crazy #Like I literally lost it #but I needed to say something or some things and so I did and now... here it is #I truly can't believe myself but after all this writing this is getting posted #The fact that I'm thinking I might make separate posts about certain things later just to expand...#send help

62 notes · View notes

whoistartaglia · 1 year ago

Note

Stawwwwp your stuff is so cute!!💖💖💖

If requests are open, may I ask for playing with Wanderer, Tighnari, and Kaeya's hair?

Thank you! And I hope you have a great rest of your day/night ✨️

very thankful for this request💪 i’ve been thinking about this idea for a while now

playing with his hair

wanderer

wanderer usually likes it when it’s him playing with your hair, but tonight you wanted to switch it up a bit. when you’re cuddling together and your hands start to thread into his hair, wanderer point blank turns to you and asks in an almost offended tone, “what are you doing?”

“playing with your hair,” you respond, gently tugging on another lock. you pause and look into his eyes. “is that okay?”

when wanderer doesn’t respond, you let his hair slip through your fingers.

“i’ll stop,” you whisper.

“no, it’s…” wanderer searches for the right word.

you wait patiently in silence. wanderer thinks you look like a confused puppy with your head tilted to the side. your eyes certainly remind him of one, always filled with adoration. for him. sometimes, he still can’t believe it.

“nice,” he finishes at last, sounding like it’s the first time he’s ever said the word. wanderer settles back down so you don’t have to see his face—though, that doesn’t hide the redness in his ears. he clears his throat. “you can keep going.”

his voice is ridiculously soft, but when you let out a teasing, “are you sure?” it turns back to rought concrete.

“yes,” tight, unyielding. you can picture him rolling his eyes. “i’m sure.”

you laugh and once again start running your fingers through his hair. he eventually falls asleep, and if you manage fight through your own dropping eyelids, you’ll hear him murmur your name, said like a scared prayer to a benevolent god.

tighnari

oh, when you start playing with tighnari’s hair, the man turns to puddy in your hand. nevermind the teasing attitude or sarcastic indifference he gives you during the day. at night, when you’re massaging his head with small, light circles, tighnari’s edges smooth out. not that they were never too rigid to begin with—at least, not with you—but the tension in his face will evaporate and he’ll have this content, peaceful smile on his face that lingers even into sleep.

and if you start playing his ears? first, consider yourself lucky that you’re allowed such a privilege; second, he might literally melt like ice under the desert sun; third, should you call him out on such softness, he will absolutely deny it.

“blushing?” he muses. he blinks open his eyes, and you feel bad you woke him from sleep. your guilt vanishes when he states: “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“oh?” you bring the back of your hand to his cheek. “i don’t know. seems pretty warm to me…”

he brushes off your hand with a small protest in the back of his throat.

“it’s warm because it’s hot here. that’s all.”

“oh, yes. i’m freezing.”

“[name],” tighnari sighs.

“tighnari,” you respond. he looks up at you with a pout—a pout, for archon’s sake—and you can’t help but laugh. “okay, okay. i’ll let it go.”

tighnari relaxes back down. you start running a light finger over the back of his ears, and tighnari sighs again, content. quietly, you lean down and whisper, barely able to keep the amusement from your voice: “but you totally are blushing.”

kaeya

kaeya loves it when you braid his hair. he just thinks your fingers are so gentle when you’re tugging and pulling at his hair in forming the braid. honestly, he’ll let you do anything you want to his hair, aside from cutting it all off. (even then, he might at least consider it, though he’d never let you go through with it).

you’ll be braiding his hair one night, same routine as ever, when you realize something. you tug on a strand and it doesn’t come free; neither does the adjcent strand next to it.

your fingers still, and your heart drops to the bottom of the ocean. in trying a new type of braid, you’ve created a knot in kaeya’s hair.

“well?” kaeya asks some time after you stopped. “did you finish?”

he goes to run a hand over the braid and you stop him, quickly lacing it with yours. now kaeya does turn, an eyebrow raised, a pointed glance at your entwined hands.

“not that this isn’t lovely,” he starts, squeezing your hand lightly, “but i do feel like there’s another motive at play here.”

“not at all,” you say, averting your gaze.

kaeya makes to touch his hair with his other hand, to which you also grab and hold in your own.

“okay, [name], sweetling, now i’m a concerned. please tell me you didn’t rip off a chunk of my hair.”

“you would’ve felt it,” you grumble. but then you sigh and shyly tell him, “…but i might have made a knot.”

kaeya studies your face, and after a second, he surprises you by placing a peck on your lips.

“what was that for?” you ask, embarassed.

“because you look so worried,” kaeya responds with a sigh. he worries for you sometimes, he really does. “don’t worry. it can’t be that bad. though,” he glanced at your hands again, still entwined, “i’d find some comfort in finding out for myself.”

you reluctantly release one hand. kaeya touches the knot and reassures you once again it’s really nothing. you both work to get it out before you’re back to braiding it again. though, it’s kind of difficult now.

kaeya still won’t let your other hand go.

693 notes · View notes

purpleberiii · 11 months ago

Text

"Worship and Wine"

☆Prompt: In which you worship the gods of Olympus and one in particular takes a liking to you and ends up showing herself one day while worshipping.

☆Warnings: Reader drinking wine from Cabernet's body, Slight smut? Cabernet being referred to as Dionysus, two versions of Cabernet (goddess and human)

The candle light illuminated a perfect glow on the Altar you had in a secret room of your house. There is where you give offerings to your gods and goddesses; Aphrodite, Athena, Apollo, Hera and finally, Dionysus. Despite worshipping many, you felt a strong connection to Dionysus, and you came to love wine as much as he did, and loved going to parties and hooking up with others.

That still didn't stray you away from your gods, you worshipped them each with equal amount of devotion and passion and you can say that they've always responded to your prayers. You had your bowl of apples and grapes, along with several different bottles of wine lined off on Dionysus' Altar. As you closed your eyes to pray, you felt light headed, as if you were going to pass out and before you knew it, you did.

Some time later, you woke up, slightly puzzled as to why you were in your room rather than the Altar. As your eyes slowly opened, you could make out the glimpse of a woman, sitting on your couch you had in your room. Her smooth creamy legs rested on one another and a few empty bottles of what looked like wine had laid on the floor. You slowly looked up to find a beautiful woman, her skin pale as snow whilst her hair red as blood.

She started at you intently, whilst sipping on a glass that had wine in it, judging by the smell. "Staring at a goddess is quite rude I must say," her eyes never leaving you.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my house? Why are you drinking my wine? What's going on?!"

She chuckled as she finally got up and walked towards you. She was tall, extremely tall and you immediately knew that she wasn't human. What was she really? "You've been a loyal follower of my brothers, sisters and I. I was sent to reward you for that."

Half of what she was saying is the truth, the lie was that she was never sent by anyone, she just came on her own. Now that you really thought of it, she did finish out a few bottles of wine, and she did have a bitten apple in her hand when you woke up.

"Dionysus?! Lady Dionysus?!" A smile crept on her face.

"You sound surprised."

"Of course I'd be! I have a literal goddesses in my presence!" You jumped out of bed. "Can I get you anything? Any wine or so?"

"It's no need. I've already finished out the remaining of your wine but I did save one for something special." A shiver ran down your spine as she said that.

She took a seat on the edge of the bed and crossed her legs. "You are looked over by all of us whom you worship. Your prayers were answered but you still worship us. Most humans would immediately forget about us once they have what they need. Why?"

"Well Lady Dionysus, I guess I'm not like most humans. You all gave me what I wanted and I'm truly indebted to you which is why I will continue to worship you all until my last breath."

She seemed pleased with your answer. "Only one wish hasn't been answered."

"Yes. But I do believe it will someday. I mean..I haven't done anything to anger Lady Aphrodite right?"

She laughed at your question and frightened state. "No you didn't. You will get it, however, I'd like to do something with you. Would you be up to the task?"

"Anything," your eyes held determination in them. Dionysus smiled and collected the bottle of wine. She slowly took off her dress, not fully. She left the top half of her body uncovered while the bottom was covered. "W-what are you doing Lady Dionysus?"

"This will help you find the one you are looking for." She popped opened the bottle and poured wine all over her body. She leaned back with a smile. "Come, drink wine from my body."

You felt like your Brian had stopped working. Did she really mean drink it from her bare body. "I-isn't it inappropriate to do so?"

"Not if I permit it."

You took a deep breath before walking towards her slowly. She uncrossed her legs so you could stand between them. You slowly leaned down and your trembling tongue lapped her the wine running down her neck. She leaned her head back and sighed.

Wine had never tasted so good in your life and you find yourself wanting more. You licked her clean, not letting a single drop fall. "Good girl. Did you like the way it tasted?"

"I did. Thank you for the opportunity."

"Of course. Now I must get back." She put on her dress while you watched her with an unexplainable expression.

"Do you have to go? Can't you stay?"

"Oh my sweet girl. I do. I cannot linger on earth here for much longer but do know this... I'll always be watching over you, as well as my sisters and brothers. We thank you for not letting us down."

In Dionysus presence, you felt a much more safe and protected and that connection you felt grew stronger, until you realised that you loved your goddess. Even though you saw her for the first time, you wanted to see her forever.

Sensing your uneasiness, Dionysus gently left a kiss to your forehead. "Farewill, sweet one."

Before you know it, only a puff of white smoke was in your room and just like that, she was gone.

You curled up on your bed as tears escaped your eyes, the feeling of longing hitting you hard but it hit her harder.

A/n:

Imma post a part 2 of this. This is my first Greek based story ever so I hope you liked it.

#cabernet franc #cabernet x reader #cabernet franc x reader #path to nowhere cabernet #ptn cabernet #ptn cabernet x reader

168 notes · View notes

multifanhoe99 · 1 year ago

Text

Kinktober Day 13- Religious Play

Pairings: Priest!Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Sacrilege, mentions of masturbation, degradation mixed with praise, spanking, hair pulling, facial, hard dom!Hyunjin, squirting, nicknames (my child, Father, my pet, my love, literally all the other times he calls the reader a whore and a slut).

=Let me know if I missed any.=

18+ MDNI

PROMPT LIST

MASTERLIST

You were nervous while waiting in line. Ironically you were sweating like a sinner in church because that is exactly what you were at this moment. You were waiting to give your confession. How long had it even been since your last one; you couldn't remember. You took a deep breath and stepped into the confessional. Settling on the kneeler you waited for the priest to speak.

Soon, you heard the sound of the other door opening and closing. Then, you heard, "Hello, my child."

"Forgive me Father for I have sinned. I am not sure how long since my last confession," you replied.

"Very well, tell me your sins," he said. His voice was like velvet, and it sounded so familiar. You couldn't quite place where you had heard it before.

"I have sinned so much and I am afraid that I keep sinning," you said feeling ashamed.

He responds softly, "Please, explain."

You gulped, "I keep having impure thoughts, and they aren't just about anyone. They are about a man of the cloth. Sometimes, I even pleasure myself at the thought of what I would like for him to do to me."

"A man of the cloth, you say? My, my, that is serious. Who might this man be," he replies.

"It is Father Hwang," you say, "I can't seem to get him out of my mind. I want to kiss his beautiful lips, I want him to whisper filthy words to me. Mostly, I want to know what his body looks like under his robes. I also wonder what sort of lover he might be. Will he be soft and gentle or will he be rough and commanding?"

"Well," he pauses, "This is a very serious sin, my child. I will have to come to your side to give your penance as it requires me to lay hands on you. I am sure you understand."

"Yes, of course, Father," you said and waited for him to walk the short distance from his side to yours. When he walked in you looked up to meet his gaze. The sight in front of you was shocking and made you embarrassed. Stood there before you was none other than Hwang Hyunjin himself, the man you have been fantasizing about for weeks now.

He walks up to you. He towers over you even more so than usual as you are still kneeling. "Now my pet," he begins his voice taking on a more sultry tone, "I have the perfect penance for you and I think you'll really enjoy it. Go ahead and turn back around." You did as you were told. You turned back around still kneeling and your elbows returned to resting on the elevated part of the kneeler so that you were in the perfect praying position.

Hyunjin stood behind you and then whispered into your ear, "You know, the only way to get rid of these impure thoughts and fantasies is to act them out. That way there is no more curiosity and then we shall be forgiven after prayer." You couldn't believe what you heard it made you nervous and excited at the same time. Mostly excited though as you could feel a wet spot growing in your panties at the thought.

"I want you to give me one Our Father and don't stop no matter what happens do you understand," he asks while pulling down your panties and flipping up your skirt to reveal your bare ass to him.

You began, Our Father, *SMACK* a loud and hard spank landed on your right ass cheek. It was painful but it also felt so good so you continued. Who art in heaven *SMACK* h-hallowed be thy name *SMACK* th-th-thy kingdom c-come *SMACK* thy will be d-done *SMACK* on eeeearth as it issss in heaven *SMACK* This went on until you had finished the prayer. All he had done was spank you and it had you dripping down the side of your legs. You were already so fucked out and he had barely started.

"Well done my naughty little slut," he said praising you and degrading you all at once, "You are doing so well for me. Now, turn back around for me? That's it, it's now time to purify that pretty little mouth of yours." He kisses you deeply while he undoes the belt, zipper, and button on his pants and pulls them and his underwear down just enough for his cock to spring free. His lips tasted like cherries and you wondered if his cock was just as sweet. As if he had read your mind he pulled away from the kiss and replaced his lips on your with the head of his cock. You gladly accepted it into your mouth.

"Look at you," he said while lazily moving his hips to fuck your mouth, "You are just a greedy little cock whore for me aren't you?" You nodded and he smirked. He held on to your hair which was put up into a ponytail and began moving his hips faster. His thrust were fast and deep he hit the back of your throat each time. You were slobbering and gagging all over his cock and he had to pull out sooner than he wanted to or else you would have made him cum before he even got the chance to pound your sweet little pussy. You choked and sputtered when he pulled out trying to catch your breath. You were a fucked out mess. Tears streaming down your face mixing in with the drool falling from your chin. Not to mention your pupils were blown wide and you were so wet it was dripping even more down the side of your leg.

"Turn back around," he commanded and you obeyed, "I am going to fuck this pretty pussy until you beg for me to stop. Look at this you're soaked I bet I could just slide right in. You'd like that wouldn't you?" You couldn't even speak anymore opting to nod vigourously in response. He lined himself up with your entrance and pushed through your walls. He was right, you were so wet he slid all the way in with no problem. He still gave you a moment to adjust before setting a rapid pace. He wasted no time roughly slamming into you while one hand pulled back on your ponytail and the other snaked around your front to play with your clit. The pleasure was overwhelming and just when you thought you couldn't take anymore he found the angle that had him hitting the spot that made you see stars. Everything all together had you screaming and clenching tightly around him and he knew you were getting close.

"You want to cum, slut? Beg for it, if you beg I shall grant it to you," he said.

"Ple-plea-please Father, let me cum I can't hold it any longer please let me c-cum please please please," you begged him.

"Very good," he praised, "Go ahead, cum for me. Cum all over my cock like the good little whore you are." His words were all you needed to have the biggest orgasm you've ever had. You were pretty sure you blacked out for a moment it was so good. Your eyes rolled back and you had squirted all over him. It was mind-blowing. He pulled out and started stroking himself.

"Are you ready for your final blessing," he asked, stroking faster. You nodded, closed your eyes, and opened your mouth. He came a few pumps later all over your face.

"Go now in peace," he said smiling at you.

"Thank you, Father," you said," We need to do this again sometime Hyunnie. I came so hard, look at the mess we made. This was the best roleplay idea ever."

"I agree, my love," he said, "Now, let's get cleaned up and we can worry about this mess later."

You laughed and reached for him so he could help you up, "I think it will have to be a bath though. I actually don't think that I can walk or stand up on my own right now." One thing was for sure after tonight, you would both definitely be doing this again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: HOLY SHIT!!! Bless the anon who suggested this because I had a blast writing it! This man literally makes me so feral and just imagining this while writing had me feeling some type of way! Anyway, my asks are still open please send some stuff in so I have things to do when Kinktober is over.

#kinktober 2023 #kinktober #x reader #k pop smut #stray kids smut #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin smut #hyunjin stray kids

226 notes · View notes

portaltothevoid · 1 year ago

Text

you're losing me part iv -- copia x reader, ex!terzo x reader

Summary: Your cheating ex is the leader of the Satanic church and you caused a scene in front of the whole congregation. You've been summoned to meet with him, alone, to be served your punishment. Turns out, you're destined for more than you could ever imagine...

A/N: buckle up buttercups, you're in for a doozy. please read the warnings. also this is my first time writing real smut please be nice to me. this little idea i had has grown into something i never thought it would and it is my overflowing cup of reason to live juice. and yes i switched gifs around because i'm new here and found the perfect one for part iii soooo did a little switcheroo. ps there’s a lot of lyrical easter eggs for my fellow swifties

songs: coney island by tswizzle, tempt me by stone nobles (please check out this band, i beg of you. trust me.)

word count: 8.4k (😬😬😬)

warnings: (this chapter deals with some dark stuff) dubcon, manipulation, talk of self-sabotage, flashbacks, oral (f!receving), fingering, p in v, rough sex, choking, fingers in mouth, allusion to panty-sniffing kink (kinda), horror elements, allusion to degradation (the bad kind), female reader, terzo heavy, google translate latin, some google translate italian (i took it in high school but that was forever ago, so i tried?)

“A summons?” you gasped jumping up from the couch. “A summons?! Oh, great. Perfect. Wait, what exactly is a summons?”

“It’s a meeting with Papa… alone…” Copia said, his voice balancing on the edge of feigned calmness and panic.

“Why the fuck does he need to see me alone? He can’t excommunicate me without witnesses, right? …Right?!” Your voice was rising in pitch as you started to pace around the living room.

“I-I don’t know, tesoro. No matter what happens, eh, I don’t think he’ll let you go that… easily.”

“Okay, okay, we just have to remain calm and- and think about this rationally. I-it could just be the slap on the wrist for the outburst, right?”

“Maybe…”

“Then again, if I’m alone in his office it’ll probably be a slap across my ass,” you grumbled, rolling your eyes. Copia couldn’t even respond, he just made a growling sound from deep inside his chest. You held your hands up defensively. “I’m just saying.”

“If so much as lays one finger on you–”

“He won’t,” you interrupted. “What happened after I left mass?”

“I got up to run after you and the fucker, very condescendingly, reminded me…” he trailed off as a realization smacked him across the face. “He reminded me I was to lead the closing prayer, which he assigned to me at the last minute. Cazzo! Quel figlio di puttana (Fuck! That son of a bitch…) planned this. He knows what he’s fucking doing,” he fumed. “That’s why he couldn’t wipe that fucking smirk off his face.”

“Oh fucking hell, we are so fucked,” you groaned, sitting back down on the couch with your head in your hands.

“Eh, maybe not if we’re already figuring out his plan?”

“True... Okay, so… we just have to think like Terzo.” A repulsed shiver went down your spine at that thought alone. “His comment to me was planned. He wanted to get under my skin. Point for him. I spat wine in his face and told him to fuck off in front of literally everyone. Point for me. But he was testing me to see my reaction or maybe it was just to test your reaction, or both? Either way, it didn’t matter because he made it so your duties came first no matter what I did… Point for him. He’s in the lead and now I’m gonna have to be in his office tomorrow. Great. Just fucking great.”

“So he’s going after me now too…” Copia sighed as he ran his hands through his hair.

“N-no. Not just you.” Your voice faltered as you felt your insides do a somersault. A realization of your own drained every emotion from your face. “He’s going after us. He’s going– He’s gonna try and break us apart.” Copia looked up at you, dumbfounded. Of course. Of course that’s exactly what Terzo was doing.

“If he can’t have you, no one can…”

“Do you remember what a big fucking deal it was to get me on the books for living with him?” Copia nodded, not liking where this was going. “I… I never officially moved out… I just… came here. He’s… he’s going to reassign my living quarters tomorrow. That's what this has to be about.”

“Oh Satana mio…(Oh my Satan)”

“Call Sister Imperator. Right now. She can rush the paperwork, can't she?”

“Amore, even if we could, he’d still have to sign off on it in the morning,” he sighed.

“I can’t just sit here and wait for morning. Even if that’s not what the summons is going to be about, at least let’s cover our asses. Now… Call. Her.”

He ignored the warmth that traveled up his body from you being stern and demanding with him and started the call to their superior. She answered right away and you were sitting on the edge of the couch. “H-hi, uh, hello, Seestor. I’m sorry it’s so la– Sì. She received the summons… Eh, sì, that’s why I’m calling you… No… Okie dokie, Seestor.” He hung up the phone after that.

“Did you really just ‘okie dokie’ Sister Imperator?”

Copia just shrugged. “She’s expecting us in her office.”

“Hmph!” you hummed triumphantly as you got up. “Told ya we needed to call her.”

He rolled his eyes at your gloating. “Andiamo, anidamo (let’s go, let’s go),” he said as he placed a hand on the small of your back, letting you lead the way out of the apartment.

Copia knocked swiftly on Imperator’s door. Seconds later it was opened. “Come in. Quickly!” she hissed. The Sister took her seat at her desk, while you and Copia sat in the chairs in front of her. She stared at you, her lips pursed. “That was some stunt you pulled at mass today, Sister.”

“I-I… he… I’m–” you stuttered and then abruptly shut up when she held her hand up.

“I knew of the nature of your relationship with Papa and I know that it is no longer. I know of the infidelity… on both your parts. Save the apologies. I heard what he said to you. When I was your age… I would have acted similarly… I did not bring you both here because of that incident. Clearly Papa Emeritus III is out of control and it’s only going to get worse.” She spoke matter-of-factly. There was no animosity in her voice towards you, this was strictly business.

“I think he’s going to try to separate Copia and I,” you blurted out quickly. You winced at the frantic tone of your voice.

“Yes I know. I have your room transfer papers ready. Luckily, it’s before midnight, so tomorrow he won’t have a say in where you end up since this is already being put in motion. Sign here and here,” she pointed with her pen as she spoke and handed a clipboard over to Copia who then passed it to you.

“Do you… do you know what else is going to happen tomorrow? At the summoning?” you questioned timidly.

“No. I only caught wind about the transfer. But, Sister, you must be prepared. We are thwarting his plans. Whatever happens tomorrow, you cannot retaliate via a spectacle. I am fully on your side here, but we need to bide our time.”

“So… What? I’m just supposed to take the public humiliation and whatever else he’s gonna throw in my face?”

“I think what Seestor is trying to say, cara, is that behind closed doors you can say anything you want to him, but whatever you say to him, we don’t know if he will retaliate right then or wait to strike,” Copia said calmly.

Sister Imperator gave a short nod in agreement. “Your reactions have to be calculated. You cannot let your emotions get the best of you in the moment. You’ve done so well holding yourself together, I know you are capable of this.”

You felt the weight of everything come crashing down on you, overwhelming you. All you could do was chew on the inside of your cheek.

“I know you know this more than anyone, Sister,” Imperator continued, “Terzo is out of control and out of line. This is becoming nothing but a game to him. As Papa, he feels no one has the power to tell him no. At the rate he is going, he will only bring ruin to this Ministry. And I, for one, will do everything in my power to keep that from happening. I know Cardinal Copia feels the same.”

He nodded. “Sì, Seestor. I do.”

“I will do whatever it takes, Sister.”

“Do you know why your role is so vital to this?” Sister Imperator questioned. You shook your head. “You were the only one that could tame Terzo. For a while, I had thought we found our solution to our problems with him. But he is a wild animal. No amount of domestication will tame that beast. You also possess magical and ritual talents well beyond your years. You are a very valuable asset to the church as a whole. If all goes according to plan, your efforts will be regarded in the highest favor from the Dark Lord himself, I’m sure.”

You were too stunned by her praise to notice that Copia shifted uncomfortably. Sister Imperator shot a glare at him to stop before you looked up from your hands. “I– Um, thank you, Sister.”

She gave you a stiff nod as she began to organize the papers on her desk. “Oh, and, Sister? Should anything happen to you, be it comments or gestures, report it to myself or Cardinal Copia. Immediately. If I am preoccupied, tell someone or myself that you have a very important document for me to review. Understood?”

“Yes, Sister,” you nodded.

“Very well then. I will have this processed and on Papa’s desk by sun rise.”

Copia got up and bowed to Sister Imperator. He held out his hand for you to take your leave. Just as you both were a step away from the door, you turned back to her desk. “Sister Imperator?” you asked innocently.

“Hmm?” she murmured without looking up at you.

“Thank you,” you said sincerely.

She finally looked up at you, her eyes darting between you and Copia. An uncharacteristically warm smile spread across her face. “No need to thank me yet.” Her demeanor turned back to its usual stoicness. “Now go get some rest. The both of you. You’ll need it.”

~~~~~

Even though you somehow managed to fall asleep, you felt like as soon as you drifted off, you heard the incessant beeping of Copia’s alarm. You rolled to face the ceiling and groaned, but didn’t allow yourself any more time in bed. You wanted this over with. You had no idea what was about to happen. Delaying it wasn’t going to solve any problems. Reluctantly, you got up and showered quickly, putting on your makeup afterwards. While Copia got ready for the day, you searched your side of the closet, trying to decide the best approach for this summons.

Earlier last week, while Terzo was tied up in meetings, you and one of your favorite Ghouls went back to the place you once called home and packed up the rest of your things. When you brought in the last box, and the Ghoul was to return to his post, he gave you his signature straight-lined, toothy smile, something he rarely did around humans. He stood at your side and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, nuzzling his head into you. The affection was so endearing you didn’t mind his mask slightly clunking against your head.

“Thank you for always being there for me, Swiss,” you told him. He had caught you crying on more than one occasion, always wiping your tears away or badly misbehaving around Papa when he realized that’s who was the reason for your sadness. “Don’t forget about me, okay?” you laughed delicately. The Ghoul put both their hands over their heart and shook their head. How could they ever forget the one person who treated them like an equal and not as just a devout servant or like some kind of pet?

His shoulders slumped when it was time for him to go. You put your hand on the side of his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze and said, “Be on your worst behavior for Papa. Be the best little shit I know you can be for me, alright?” He perked up and nodded excitedly, happily accepting this task from you. “There we go, that’s my favorite Ghoul,” you smiled warmly and scratched under his chin as his tail swished. He flashed you one more of his signature smiles before turning heel and heading back.

You sighed. “I miss the Ghouls,” you grumbled as you continued to flip through all the clothes you had hanging. You could wear something plain, albeit respectful, just what all the Sisters wore day-to-day. Maybe something more formal… But then you found it. It was a dress you saved for special occasions and events and luckily for you, you had yet to wear this one. A devilish smile went across your face.

Looking in the mirror, smoothing out any stray wrinkles, you nodded to yourself. You looked hotter than hell. You had your wimple on, but pulled some hair out to have it frame your face. You fluffed your bangs, then applied your red lipstick. Yeah, this’ll do.

You walked out of your room, causing Copia to look up from his phone. He almost choked on his coffee at the sight of you.

The dress was a black satin that hugged your body. Leaving very little to the imagination, it had a plunging neckline and an open back. Its asymmetrical hem fell just above your left ankle, while the right side hit the top of your thigh, showing off your whole leg when you walked. On that leg, you had a garter with a single Grucifix dangling from it, made of black diamonds. It had been a gift from Terzo, you only hoped it added insult to injury. For shoes you wore simple, black, strappy stilettos.

“Y-you’re wearing that for h-him?” he stuttered in shock.

You grinned a Cheshire cat smile as you walked over to him. Tilting his head to the side you were on, you leaned down and kissed him. Your hand trailing down his chest, a finger dragging across where his pants started under his cassock. “Oh, caro, this dress isn’t for him. I’m dressing for revenge.” You dragged the hand holding his head across his jawline as you pulled away. “You got a little…” you said quietly as you used your thumb to wipe the corner of his mouth. He could only stare at you as you walked towards the door. His eyes wide and filled with lust. “Meet me back here for lunch,” you said, your tone commanding. You looked over your shoulder with a delightfully sinful grin to see Copia nodding fervently.

Just before you stepped out to leave, he called out, “Be careful, amore. Per favore.”

“Always am,” you responded as you shut the door. Taking one long, deep breath, you began your trek to the summons.

Dark Lord, give me the strength to mask my emotions, to not let them overpower my actions. Please, give me your strength and guidance to get through this. Nema, you thought to yourself, eyes closed and focused as you stood outside his office and set your intention. You elegantly knocked on the door.

“Entra.”

Let the battle begin.

He sat with his elbows on his desk, chin perched in his folded hands. You felt him eyeing you as you walked over to the chair across from him, sizing you up. His face dropped slightly, taken aback by your appearance. His lust for you consuming him.

“You did this all for me, sorella? Or would you still prefer I call you tesoro mio?” His voice was sultry, dripping with sweet honey. It made you sick.

“Sorella is fine, Papa. You summoned me, I only thought it best to wear something more formal,” you smiled politely.

“I always did like the way you think…” he mused under his breath, but still loud enough for you to hear. You ignored the comment. “Do you know why I summoned you, tesorino?”

Your expression held firm as you kept your air of professionalism intact. “I can only assume it has to do with the incident from mass.”

“Actually, I wanted to discuss your living arrangements. But you see, a very curious thing happened. There were already papers on my desk dealing with just that. Isn't it funny how quickly things can get done when you know the right people, hmm?”

“I see it as a blessing. The Dark Lord works in mysterious ways.”

“That He does, that He does…” his smile showed he was impressed by your response and ability to dodge the question, but his tone suggested he knew the move was calculated. “Well, with that out of the way now, I suppose we have time to talk.” He looked at you through his lashes. He softened, his voice quieter. Was this his way of waving the white flag? You weren’t talking to Papa now, you had Terzo in front of you. The real Terzo. However, you weren’t about to drop your guard so easily.

“What is there to talk about, Papa?”

He shook his head, his expression forlorn. “This isn’t business anymore.” When he looked up at you, he dropped any and every mask he was wearing. Even behind his papal paints, you could see how broken and defeated he actually was. “You left… and then I returned home one day and… every trace of you was gone. Poof. As if you were never there. As if we never happened…” he took a deep breath, it was unsteady. He bit his lip in an effort to control his emotions. You stared numbly at him. “Do you remember the first night I stayed with you? When you were sick?” he whispered.

Of course you remembered. How could you forget? You had a nasty cold. You texted him early that day, telling him you were sick and you’d have to reschedule dinner. He told you to rest and get better and that he would see you soon. You didn’t think ‘soon’ meant him showing up at your door later that evening with two quart containers of minestrone soup (that he made himself from his nonna’s recipe (and with Primo’s guidance)) and a bouquet of flowers.

“What are we watching, tesoro?” he asked as he settled in behind you, holding you, arm wrapped around your waist. You felt guilty having him there.

“You really don’t have to stay. I mean I don't want to get you sick and… Really, I’m fine on my own, especially now that I have soup!”

“Amore. Just because you do well on your own doesn’t mean you have to be on your own, hm? I'm here because I want to be, because la mia ragazza preferita (my favorite girl) is sick. If we fall asleep watching tv, then we sleep! There’s no use arguing with me, you know,” he said as he pulled you closer to him and pressed gentle kisses on your neck. “I'm staying– right– here.” His voice was muffled from barely taking his mouth away from your neck as he punctuated each word with a kiss. The affection made you bubble with laughter.

“I'm glad you’re here,” you said shyly. It was at that moment you knew you had a difficult conversation ahead of you. One that could make or break your relationship with Terzo, but you were falling for him. Hard. Nothing could stop your momentum. He had a reputation and if he loved you like he said he did, he’d commit to you. Wouldn’t he?

He let out a content sigh that pulled you out of your thoughts. He nuzzled into your shoulder. “Sono tua. Tutta tua.” He paused before adding, “Solo tua.” You froze. Did he read your mind? Did he feel the same as you? (I am yours. All yours. Only yours.)

“Solo mia? Davvero?” (Only mine? Really?)

“Sì. Sì,” he murmured affectionately as he placed a kiss on your temple. “There's no one else I want to share my time with. You’re all I think about, all I dream about, amore. You ground me. Make me feel like… I'm not… I’m not as— You make me feel like I'm worth loving. I want… us… I want to be esclusivi with you.” A sudden bashfulness came over him that you had never seen before. He was also so cool and collected, but you could tell just from the sound of his voice and the way he was fidgeting, tapping his fingers on your arm as he spoke that he was nervous.

You rolled over and cupped his face, searching his eyes with nothing but adoration. “Promise me then. Promise me, I’ll be the only one. Promise me, I’ll be your only one.”

“Te lo prometto. I promise you. You have my word, amata.”

“If you get sick this is on you. It’s so not my fault,” you jested as you poked his chest.

His eyes lit up. “Will you take care of me if I do?”

You swept his bangs away from his eyes. “Certo, amore.” His eyes scanned your face like he was trying to remember every single detail of it. “Okay, then I have no regrets about doing this and accept the consequences,” you added as you grabbed his face and kissed him. He deepened the kiss, turning and pulling you on top of him. You couldn’t help but giggle. This was it. You both were in it for the long haul. There was no going back now.

You pursed your lips and rolled them together as you tore yourself away from the now painful memory. You couldn’t help but wonder, if that was the long haul then how’d you end up here so soon?

“I do… but forgive me, what does that have to do with anything?”

He was focused on his hands in front of him as he anxiously tapped his fingers together. “Could you ever look at me again the way you did that night? Could you ever love me again?”

“Do you know how many nights I spent wondering where that Terzo had gone?” you snapped as you countered his amative question with one of your own that had been frozen in ice.

“I have always been here, tesoro,” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes again.

“Do you remember what you said to me that night? What you promised me? How you were all mine? Only mine?”

“Sì, ricordo (I remember)…” he muttered. The quietness of the room made your ears ring. With so many conflicting emotions running through your veins, the strongest made your blood begin to simmer.

“Then why? Why wasn’t I ever enough for you?” The questions flew out of your mouth before you could even debate betraying your strictly-business-like demeanor. Your voice tinged with desperation, devastation, and nostalgic longing. You wanted to hate Terzo. You wanted to. Most of the time now you did, but here he was in front of you. You sacrificed so much for him, for your relationship, you set all politics aside. Right now, you merely wanted answers to the thoughts that had kept you lying awake countless nights.

His breath got caught in his throat. It was as if he physically reacted to your words piercing through his heart. He stared at you, mouth slightly hung open in shock at both your question and the revelation of the consequence of his actions that it brought. Suddenly, he was on his feet, gliding over to you. Your chair had been far enough away from the desk that he was able to kneel in front of you. He placed his gloved hands on your knees.

Your jaw clenched. You saw right through what he was trying to do. Act as if it was the first time you confronted him. The first time you caught him.

The memory flooded your senses making you relive the moment when you returned to your apartment and sat at the table, waiting for the door to open. You didn’t even bother to turn on a light. Copia had walked you back after he literally ran into you as you tried to flee from one of your worst nightmares. It had taken you an hour or so to even begin to calm down. The clock neared eleven and he still wasn’t home.

He expected to find you already asleep, but he saw you waiting for him, still dressed, makeup ruined. The rage and hurt that radiated off you hit him like a brick wall as soon as he walked in and turned on the light. “Amore, what are you–”

“How was your day?” you asked plainly, staring at your hands folded in front of you.

“Lots of meetings,” he let out a tired sigh.

“Your last one ran really late. Is everything okay?”

He froze for a split second as he started to take off his gloves. He cleared his throat. “Yes, you know, just lots of red tape to sort through while the Ghost tour is being planned.” His voice became just unsteady enough to let you know he feared this was becoming an interrogation.

You nodded. “Hm, I thought that meeting was scheduled for next week.” For the first time since he returned, you looked over at him. You shrugged nonchalantly, turning away from him to look at your hands again.

“I-it got moved up suddenly. Mi dispiace, I thought someone had told you…” he muttered, making his way to the bedroom.

“Ah, yes, I’m sure Sister Thérèse just got tied up with someone… I mean something else. I haven’t seen much of her lately, or at all really, though I’m sure you have.” You turned to see him come to a complete standstill the moment your tone darkened. Slowly, he turned to you. He opened his mouth to stutter out something, but your voice was sharp as a sword. “Don’t.”

“I can explain–”

“Oh, I’m sure you can. There just has to be a reasonable explanation as to why you were balls deep inside her in a random office. And I’m sure there’s another for why the door was left ajar. Usually I would have just kept walking, but there was this very distinctive, very familiar voice. ‘È tutto. Ragazza bene. Sì, sei la mia ragazza preferita. È tutto (That’s it. Good girl. Yes, you’re my favorite girl. That’s it),’” you did your best mocking-impression of him you could muster. “I thought ‘Hmm, I’ve heard that somewhere before. There’s no way it could be..’ Well, sure enough, peaking through that crack in the door, there you were! And now… here we are.” You were so beyond furious that you appeared calm.

He stood there, still frozen, locked in place. You could see the fear in his eyes. If it weren’t the papal paints on his face you could have seen his color fade. When he finally was able to speak, his voice wavered, sounding close to a whimper. “Are… are you going to leave me?”

Your fists clenched and you let out a huff of air. “I’ve thought about it, but given the nature of everything, I just can’t up and leave you.” A silence hung in the air. “How the fuck did it get to this point?” Your voice cracked as you repressed the tears that started to rise to the surface.

He jolted forward, rushing to you, kneeling in front of you, taking your hands in his. “Please, please, amore. I’d– I’ll do anything for you. Amata mia. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Mi dispiace. Mi dispiace.” Sobs rippled through him as he cried at your feet. All you wanted to do was pull him up by his hair and slap him so hard across the face, it would have woken the whole floor up, then scream at him to stop crying. You knew you couldn’t do that. That wasn’t you. So you sat there, silent and stoic, your whole body tense.

After he calmed himself down slightly, his watery eyes gazed up to your towering form. “You promised me,” you breathed through your teeth out of fear that any extra movement would cause you to break down just as he had. You refused to give him the satisfaction.

“I know. I know I did. I… I ruined everything.”

“Why, Terzo? Why did you do it?”

“I… Non lo so.” His lips barely moved as he breathed out words you didn’t care to hear.

You slammed your fist on the table, abruptly pushing yourself out of your chair, needing to get away from his touch. “When are you gonna fucking let me in, Terzo? Huh? This whole ‘us’ thing really won’t work if you don’t ever tell me what the fuck is going on!”

“I-I-I don’t know! She was just there! And– and I knew how wrong it was. I know… but I couldn’t stop. I… I was bored and–”

“You… you were… You– You were bored,” you scoffed. “So I bore you enough to go fuck a wanna be Prime Mover whore?”

His head dropped in his hands. He moved them up through his hair which he gripped so tightly his knuckles turned white and shook his head. “That’s not what I meant,” he groaned.

“Ooh, do enlighten me then!”

“I can’t tell you why I did it, because I don’t know. Veramente (Truly), I don’t know. It’s just– Everything was going so well. Perfect almost. You were taking everything being thrown at you in stride. Your ideas for Ghost, the way you keep me on track, the way you… You were just you. Always there. Always by my side.”

“So you just had to go and fuck it up.”

His shoulders slumped, his jaw clenched. “I don’t deserve you, tesoro. I never did…”

There it was. There was the answer to the multi-million dollar question. You felt your heart shatter as he sat there in his hurt. You scurried over to him, dropping to your knees, holding his face between your hands. With a shake, you forced his dichromatic eyes to find yours. “But you do, Terzo. You do. Satan, I give you everything I have, every day, to show you that.” He turned his head away from you. Your words only made him feel like you were proving his point. “Look at me,” you commanded with another shake. “Before I came here, I didn’t have anything or anyone. I had nothing. When I found you… when you took an interest in me, the kind of person who never had the guts to stand out or be noticed, who didn’t even think they were special enough to catch anyone’s attention, never mind yours… It’s because of you I can even see myself in a different light. Don’t you think someone capable of that deserves someone just as special?”

The kindest words that were ever said to him, the most genuine words, always came from you. He loved you more than anything he could possibly imagine. He knew lately he’d done a piss poor job of proving that to you. He could see the cuts he was inflicting on you. He hated himself for it. He needed you by his side for so many reasons. He needed you to keep him in line. If you ever stopped… If he ever let himself completely lose control… If you ever left him… He couldn’t even imagine the monster he would become.

You didn’t know the depths of the internal battle he was waging on himself, you saw enough of it on his face to know his struggle was heart-wrenching. You loved him. Yes, he royally fucked up, but you still loved him. “We can work through this,” you whispered, moving yourself to intercept his blank stare.

“Will you ever trust me again?”

You winced at the memory. Everytime he came close to regaining your trust, he would do something to break it. Over and over again.

“It was never you who wasn’t good enough, amata mia. You know that,” he purred as his satin covered hands slid up your thighs, taking your dress with them slowly. He paused as his fingers brushed your garter. He toyed with the Grucifix that dangled from it. That he had given you. He smiled affectionately at it, before his devil may care smirk returned. You wearing that wasn’t an insult to him. It was a sign of subconscious devotion.

This was the real Terzo. You chastised yourself for falling for it, yet again. Always a wolf in sheep’s clothing, a lesson you just couldn’t seem to learn. “I am the one who was never worthy of you.” His eyes were locked onto your core. He then stood up, parting your legs by wedging himself between them. As he did so, he dragged his dual-toned irises up your body until they locked with yours. His pupils fully blown out, his breathing became heavier. His lust could only be described as animalistic.

Your words formed a lump in your throat, unable to escape.

He towered over you. His hands grazed along the sides of your entire body. He ripped off your wimple. Your face scrunched at his roughness. One hand, then, settled around your neck, squeezing it, as he put his mouth by your ear. “There is so much for you to learn. So much I have to teach you, demonino mio.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, roaring thunderously in your ears. You felt your blood go from a simmer to boiling. “I’m not your little demon,” you growled as you spat in his face. The hand on your throat swiftly moved to your chin, his grip painful enough to fear it might bruise. He forced you to look at him, to look at his knowing smirk. He knew something you were clueless about.

“Mmm, C’è la mia ragazza (there’s my girl),” he cooed. He kept your face locked in place as he licked your spit off his face, making you watch. Your eyes burned with a ferocity you’ve never felt before. “Satanas, I’ve missed you,” he sighed.

He breathed out a laugh as he unexpectedly dropped to his knees again. Your dress had already moved up so much, nothing was hidden. He pushed your legs open wider as he dove between them, running his nose along your core, inhaling deeply.

“Terzo, stop,” you demanded, trying to squirm your way out of his hold.

“You know you don’t want me to.” He moved up slightly, so his throat was flush against you. When he spoke, it sent undeniably pleasurable shockwaves through you.

“No. Fucking stop! No!” You tried to leap up and push him away from you, but he was stronger and faster. Easily he took your arms and pinned you to the chair, of which you were barely sitting on the edge of in your struggle.

His eyes darkened, his head swayed back and forth as he tutted at you. “Sei stata una ragazza molto cattiva (you have been a very bad girl).” Your arms would surely bruise as he put even more of his weight onto them, further constricting his vice grip he had on you. Relentlessly you still tried to wriggle your way out of his grasp.

Stop fighting, my child… A calming, almost sultry voice, yet somehow also one of safety, rang through your mind.

Terzo pushed his face into the crook of your neck, biting down where it met your shoulder. You cried out as you continued your attempts to writhe away from the monster in front of you. He licked the mark and dragged his tongue all the way up your neck, sucking on the sensitive spot behind your ear. The line between pain and pleasure was beginning to blur. “If you keep trying to fight me, la mia stellina oscura (my little dark star), or you so much as breathe one word of this to a certain Caridnale, he will find himself back in Italia for a very, very long time…” Your body ceased movement. His stronghold on you loosened as he descended once again. “Ora, dimmi, amore, that you don’t want this (Now, tell me, love).”

Give into temptation, my child. The voice rang out again, echoing throughout your mind like a spell to sedate your frayed nerves. You hadn’t the faintest idea why, but this time, you trusted the ethereal voice. You stopped fighting.

Terzo returned to his spot between your legs, humming appreciatively. “Oh, guarda. I can see how much you already want this. Sporco bugiardo (You dirty liar),” he taunted as he ran his finger along the wet patch that had started to pool in your underwear, your body betraying you. While his thumb ran circles around your clit, your breath hitched involuntarily. Your eyes shut, your head turning away in shame. You couldn’t bear to actually watch this.

He teased you, dragging his finger up and down your lace-covered slit, before covering you with the palm of his hand. Now he moved his whole hand in slow, circular motion. He was satisfied when your wetness had completely soaked through your underwear. Next thing you knew, he tore them off you, tossing them over his shoulder onto the desk behind him.

His arm wrapped around your thigh, securing it in place. You couldn’t help but let out a gasp as you felt his tongue circle your clit. His brows furrowed and he let out a sharp huff when he noticed you weren’t watching him work. With his free hand, he grabbed your chin brutishly again, forcing you to keep your eyes on him. You hated the force he was using. You hated seeing the insatiable hunger in his lustful eyes. You hated him. But that all paled in comparison to how much you hated the part of your desire that got caught in the wildfire of your rage.

Once he felt you understood his wordless message, he let go of your chin. Stubborn as ever, and with admirable restraint, you refused to let out the mewls and moans that perilously needed to, biting your cheek until a metallic taste tickled your tongue. The little control you had snapped like an old rubber band when he inserted the first finger inside you. Your hips bucked, craving more friction. The smoothness of his satin glove drove you as mad as it had countless times before. Your breaths became shallow and rapid as he pushed another finger inside you. Pawing at your sweet spot he knew as well as the back of his own hand, you now writhed from the remorseful pleasure. You didn’t even have time to register the smirk he made just before he snuck in a third finger.

“Satanas!” you tried to hiss, but it dissolved on your tongue into a moan. Your eyes slammed shut as your head fell back. Then all movement stopped. You dragged your head up to resume the eye contact he demanded. He stayed frozen, the only movement he made was the one eyebrow he raised, his look expectant of you. You scowled, but in a moment of forgotten animosity, you reached to brush away the hair that had sloppily fallen in his face. “P-please, don’t stop. Please. I need–” that was enough for him to resume with furious intensity.

You found purchase by running your hand through his hair, gripping it so tightly your knuckles went white. As you pushed his head into you, needing even more friction, more pressure, you could feel his fleeting smile before he resumed concentration. “Fuck! T-terz-zo, fuck!” you mewled, the pressure unbearable. You were about to unravel in his hands. “I’m go–” you started to say, but the words died in your mouth just as quickly as he stopped.

He leered over you. He pulled you up by your wrist and grabbed you by your waist. He held you there for a moment, your body flush against his. “You are mine,” he commanded, his voice gravelly. Suddenly he turned you around, pushing you down, bending you over his desk. Your arms caught you as you fell forward. You could hear him undoing his pants and then felt his hand wipe some of your slick off to rub on his dick. A faint, breathy moan escaped his lips as he lined himself up with you. “You will always– be– mine,” he growled as he thrusted into you, punctuating each word with another hard thrust. You cried out in delirious pleasure that overrode the pain of him emphatically bottoming out inside you each time. “È tutto. Ragazza bene. Sì, sei la mia ragazza preferita. È tutto,” he moaned in your ear, repeating what you had overheard him say the first time you found him with another in this very same position.

You reached for the edge of the desk to try and brace yourself, but he pushed his fingers into your mouth, hooking into your cheek. You could taste yourself on his soaked gloves. His pace faltered just slightly as he reached for your wrist and pulled you against him. You moaned around his hand, eyes rolling back, at the slight change in position.

Tears leaked from your eyes due to the overstimulation. You were so close, so, so close. You could feel your pending orgasm building, about ready to explode like a dying star. It had never been like this with him before. Not with Terzo, not with anyone.

Sure, you liked it rough from time to time, but this… this was awakening something else inside you. And it was solely from the sex, it was everything surmounting together: the infidelity, the degradation both public and private, the manipulation… It felt like a caged animal, a beast, which deep down you knew had always lurked inside you just waiting to be set free, waiting for the right time to emerge from your darkest shadows. There was still guilt bubbling up inside you that longed for this to be over, but… you couldn’t deny it, and you would never admit it. This excited you; it terrified you.

His gruff whisper pulled you back to reality, “Voglio che tu venga per me, amore mio… il mio unico vero amore. Vieni. (I want you to come for me, my love… my only true love. Come.)”

You felt yourself erupt, crying out with the force of a hundred hell hounds as your walls pulsated around him, as the most sinful pleasure rippled through your entire body. He kept going with his relentless, starved pace. Only when he spilled himself inside you, did he let up and remove his hand from your mouth. Your cheek, sore, as you tried to adjust your jaw back to normal, tonguing where you still felt the impressions of his fingers.

You stayed there, bent over, laying on the desk. Your bones felt as if they had been liquified. He hummed behind you, pleased with his work. Using the back of his hands, he brushed them up the inside of your legs before wiping both hands along your cunt, gathering whatever excess of fluids his gloves would lap up in one swipe. He removed his gloves, tossing them on the desk beside you. You could hear the soft splat sound they made when they landed near your discarded underwear. His bare hand slapped your ass and you jumped as the sting radiated through you.

Tucking his dick back in his pants and buttoning them up, you could feel him looming over you. You only dragged yourself up to stand when his statue-like presence caused your skin to crawl. Your eyes turned to slits as you turned to face him.

Hooking his finger under your chin, his thumb cleaned up the corners of your mouth. His other hand wiped away the tears that stained your flushed cheeks. “I think your incident at mass can be overlooked now, sì?” he snickered.

The attrition from what had just transpired came crashing down on you like a tsunami causing ripple effects of shame and guilt to wash over you. Suddenly, your breathing became heavy. There was a fire inside your chest that blazed hot enough to burn this entire Abbey to the ground in minutes.

Through temptation has your wrath been spurred. For your sacrifice… you will be… rewarded, that mysterious voice whispered to you again as your body started to shake from the electricity of your fury.

“Ask me again how I could ever love you,” you snarled as you stood up to adjust your dress in a feeble attempt to cover yourself.

“Oh, dolcezza,” his honeyed croon made you want to grab him by the hair and smash his face into the desk behind you. You never knew where these violent thoughts came from, so out of pocket for you. It was gasoline being added to the flames of your wrath. Your hand twitched, almost as if you were about to do it… You were pulled out of your thoughts by his sickly sweet voice. “You have no idea of the power that you possess.” He gently caressed your face, his eyes searching you as if he could see the power he spoke of, as if he was trying to find it. When his knowing smirk shrouded his face again, you had had enough of his bullshit.

You forcefully slapped his hand away from you. You could hear the sting, “Rot in hell, figlio di puttana,” you sneered as you turned to make your exit.

“Only if you’re beside me, amata mia,” he chuckled, rubbing his hand where you hit him, getting too much enjoyment and satisfaction from your reaction. You accepted that you had no idea who the man standing in front of you was or if you ever did and that thought alone only infuriated you even more. He shut up completely when you turned around and glared at him. He could see darkness starting to cloud your eyes. He shook it off, opening his mouth when you only had one more step before you were out of this office. “Oh, amore,” he started, his tone went from casual to sinister, causing you to freeze where you stood. “I mean it, you know, you utter a single syllable of this to Copia, and he’s gone. Sei mio (you are mine).”

Your boiling blood instantly turned to ice. You turned around painstakingly slow. Your rigid body and movements were enough to send shivers down Terzo’s spine. You couldn’t feel it. You had no idea it was happening. The fury of hell shone through your eyes as Terzo watched them fill with black smoke until your eyes turned to dark voids before him. “And I’ll make you wish that I never was.”

You watched as Terzo went slack jawed and his eyes turned into saucers from shock. The anger you felt, the wrath coursed through you like an electric current, was the only thing you cared about. Although you did revel in the fact that he looked terrified enough to cry, you were too wrapped up in your emotions to care.

“I-is that a th-threat, amore?” he stuttered, failing to keep his composure.

“It’s a fucking promise,” you growled, your voice dropping several octaves, sounding borderline inhuman. Terzo stumbled backwards, his hands reaching out behind him to clutch his desk. All you could see was red.

You almost ripped the door off its hinges as you stormed out, leaving it open. You were barely aware of where you were storming off to or that there were two Ghouls making their way towards Terzo’s office. In the haze of your rage, you almost missed how they stopped in their tracks and kneeled the second they saw you. When “Your Eminence,” sounded in your mind from two different and distinct voices as you were a few paces in front of them, your gait slowed. Still bending at the knee, they nodded to you as you passed by. Looking down at them, your brow furrowed for a moment, never having seen this kind of behavior from any Ghoul before. You returned their gesture with a curt, singular nod. They got up to resume going to wherever they were headed and you continued on your war path. Behind you, still watching from his office doorway at the end of the hall, Terzo’s jaw was just about on the floor. He scrambled to get to his phone.

Two Sisters of Sin saw you barreling towards them. Quickly, they moved to the side, but when they saw you up close, they both let out a gasp. You shot them a look only causing them to cower. Once you passed them, they ran down the hall as if they were running for their lives. Your brow furrowed again. “What the fuck…?” you muttered to yourself.

You didn’t have time for this. Terzo said you couldn’t tell Copia about what happened. He never said anything about Sister Imperator. When you reached her office you didn’t even bother to knock, scaring the daylights of her from the sudden burst of noise and movements. Then the color drained from her at the sight of you.

This time, you slammed the door behind you. Sister Imperator backed herself up until she hit the wall. You stood in there for a moment, your breaths coming out in short huffs, almost like pants. Your eyes looked crazed as you widened them. It was like two black holes were staring at Sister Imperator, threatening to destroy anything that got in their way. Chills ran up and down her spine. “Sister, y-your ey– uh…” she sputtered, her breathing becoming shallow. She tried to ignore the tightening feeling in her chest. She swallowed, even though her throat had gone dry. “Sister, w-what happened?”

You charged forward, slamming your hands on her desk, rattling everything on it. She winced and brought her hands up to her chest, clutching her Grucifix rosary beads that hung around her neck. A malevolent sneer etched onto your face. “Terzo happened,” you growled, although this time, it actually sounded like your own voice.

You pushed off her desk and began pacing, slowly, deliberating, as if you were trying to both calm down and calculate something. When you gathered your thoughts and paused, turning to directly face the panicked clergy member, your words sounded nothing less than a warning.

“Imperator, I don’t know what game you and Copia and Lucifer knows who else are playing with Terzo… and I don’t exactly know my role in it,” you clenched your jaw, speaking through your teeth, “since no one cares to divulge that information.” You took a deep breath and regained composure as you feigned innocence. “I only care about how it ends. Do you know how it will end, Sister?” Her mouth hung agape. Any sound that tried to escape was nowhere to be found. She could only shake her head in response. You leaned forward onto the desk again, you slowly pulled your chin in, but you kept your gaze locked on hers, your eyes now almost looking up at her. A smile wider than a cheshire cat’s grew on your face. If Sister Imperator didn’t believe in evil, she certainly did now. “It’s going to end with his head on my altar.”

taglist: @da-rulah @fishwithtitz @ivycasket @water-ghoulette (drop a comment if you'd like to be added!)

part iii | part v

#you're losing me #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #cardinal copia #cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia x female reader #terzo #papa emeritus iii #terzo angst #terzo x reader #terzo x female reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #papa emeritus iii x female reader #terzo smut #Spotify

165 notes · View notes

momentsbeforemass · 1 month ago

Text

Let go and let God

Let go and let God.

Sounds…nice. But, actually letting go? That’s not really my style.

I’m more of a planner. I like to know how things are going to work out. I like to be ready for when they don’t. Even if I’m the reason they don’t.

Which means that I am tempted to worry about all kinds of future events. From stuff that I know will happen, to stuff that probably never will happen. On my worst days, I can easily “what-if” myself into a torrent of worst-case scenarios.

I guess I’m trying to say that I struggle with letting go.

And yet – that’s exactly what Jesus calls me to do. Starting with one of His classic, snarky reality checks – “Can you by worrying add a single moment to your life?”

If “what-iffery” isn’t actually doing anything for me, then what’s the alternative?

“Humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time. Cast all your worries upon Him because He cares for you.”

Translation – I have to get over me first. Because thinking that I have to handle it (or even that I can handle it) on my own can easily drift into pride. I’m supposed to get over myself. And hand my worries over to God.

How do I do that? “…in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God.”

Translation – take everything to God in prayer. Everything everything? Yes. Literally everything.

Did it just become a concern for you? Right at the first moment you realize you’re worrying about it, take it to God in prayer.

Is it weighing on you? Take it to God in prayer.

Are you having intrusive thoughts about it, again? Take it to God in prayer, again.

If something pops into your when you’re praying about something else, don’t try to ignore it. Make it your focus. Take it to God in prayer.

The most important part? Taking it to God in prayer, with thanksgiving.

That is, taking it to God in prayer now. And then thanking God for taking care of it.

Not in the sense of “I know you will, God.” But in the sense of “I know you have, God.”

Thank God for taking care of it, in the past tense. Because He already has.

If I’m thanking God for taking care of it in the past tense, that means two things – there’s something I have to do, and there’s something God will give me.

The something I have to do? Not take it back.

Thanking God in the past tense means taking it to God. And leaving it.

I struggle with this one. Which means that every time I find myself taking something back, I have to stop. And remind myself of the first rule of taking things to God in prayer. No backsies.

Some days I end up doing this a lot.

But when I do, that’s when I get to the whole point. The something God will give me. When I take it to God in prayer. And leave it.

“Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”

That’s the payoff. The humility, the trust, that leads us to take it to God in prayer. And leave it.

That’s the only road to the peace of God.

The only one that’s worth the struggle.

Today’s Readings

#Let go and let God #Let Go #Take it to God in prayer #Leave it with God #God #Jesus #Catholic #Christian #Church #Catholicism #Chrumblr #Christianity #Moments Before Mass

14 notes · View notes

seeingivy · 2 years ago

Text

something new

megumi fushiguro x gn!reader

you and megumi take a walk on the roof in the dead of night

read on ao3

You can’t figure out which side to sleep on. You usually sleep on your right, but the hotel window is really big and the light down the street is too bright. You would sleep on my left, but the air conditioner makes your wet hair feel frozen and you’ve exhausted all efforts in trying to turn it off. You would sleep on your back but that reminds me too much of how dead bodies look in coffins.

You’ve exhausted all efforts to sleep tonight. If you’ve resorted to likening yourself to a dead body, you’re well aware you will not be sleeping tonight. You reach over to your nightstand and swipe the hotel key.

If you walk around for long enough, you can tire yourself out. Then, you’ll have to go to sleep. Maybe you’ll be so tired you’ll pass out in the hotel lobby on the way back to your room. As you shut the door to the hotel room, you’re confronted by how quiet it is in the hotel hallway.

The light directly above the room is flickering, the silence palpable. The red carpet looks different than it has in the past two days and the hallway is suddenly longer than it was before.

You shuffle down the hallway, feeling the need to look over your shoulder to make sure the room I came from is still there.

You say a prayer to make sure no ghosts follow you. Every ghost story Nobara has told you comes back at this moment.

As you walk past two doors, you jump at the sound of the toilet flushing. You turn back and count the doors, realizing I’m only three doors down from your own room. This is Itadori, Todo and Megumi’s room.

maybe you can knock if they’re awake too. maybe todo or itadori can walk with you for a little bit and convince you to be less nervous about tomorrow.

It’s probably Itadori. Itadori has been your friend since you were in the fourth grade. He peed himself in the second grade when you had to perform for choir because he got so nervous. If anyone is going to have indigestion tonight, it’s him.

You knock quietly on the door, hoping it was loud enough for him to hear. It feels illegal to break the silence, but you do it anyway.

You hear an abnormal amount of shuffling behind the door and realize it might be Todo. Todo is deathly afraid of ghosts. When we went to the Capital in the third grade, he refused to sleep all night because he was convinced a ghost moved his things around in the room. It ended up being Nobara looking for his wallet in the dead of night,

As the lock clicks and the door swings open, it’s not Todo and it’s not Itadori.

“If you’re knocking on my door for help with your apple juice, I’ll throw you out the window myself.”

Heat rises to your cheeks, equal parts embarrassed and happy that Megumi answered the door.

“In your dreams, Fushiguro. I heard the toilet flush and figured Itadori was having diarrhea again. Is he awake?”

As he swings the door open a little more, you peer in and see that Itadori and Todo are dead asleep on top of each other. There are three singles in the room, the third bed still neatly made from the day before.

“That can’t be comfortable.”

“That’s what I said, but they insisted. They’ve been sleeping like that since the first night.”

“At least they can go to sleep.”

He looks over at you in the dark, the only light shining on you two being the one flickering down the hall. The door is half open now, the eerie feeling gone from the hallway. He squints at you in the dark, like he’s trying to discern something written your my face.

“Okay, I’ll go with you on your walk.”

As he locks the door behind him, you walk in silence. The hallway is loud, the sound of your heart pounding destroying any silence that existed before. He reaches the end of the hallway, a chipped white ladder moving up to the roof.

“No way. We’re not even allowed to go up there.”

“Yes, we are. There’s literally a patio up there.”

“This is a sketchy way to get up there, let’s just take the elevator.”

He rolls his eyes and climbs up without you. You’re standing alone in the hallway, figuring out what to do. The hallway feels scary again, your heart pounding for a different reason now. You give in and climb up the ladder as your rings clink against the metal.

“Knew you’d give in.”

“Do you have a mute button?”

As you reach the patio, the breeze is swinging the yellow umbrellas in the dark. You move to sit on one of the leather couches but Megumi walks all the way over to the ledge of the hotel. He slides his feet over the ledge, his ankles dangling over the edge of the building. You hop on and join him.

“No protest this time? This is objectively scarier than the ladder inside.”

“Just…be quiet. I wanted to see the view.”

There’s a dozen lights glittering over the view of the city. A few of you had been called to exorcize a few curses in the country, at an entirely different pace than what you were used to. This was your first mission fighting alone and the fear was petrifying. The green hills at the ends of the city take up most of the space, a few tiny buildings marking the downtown area. It’s quiet, with one car passing by every few minutes. The city is dead asleep.

“Move closer, I’m cold.”

As you shuffle closer to him, your knees knock against each other as the breeze gets stronger. You’re still looking out, but you can tell from the twinge of light down the street that the tops of his ears are pink. His hand makes his way to the top of your hair, patting down the stray hairs moving in the breeze.

“You should have told me your hair was wet. You’re going to get hypothermia.”

You feign shock and place the back of your hand on his forehead.

“Are you feeling okay? Did you get a fatal illness in the five minutes we were sitting here? Who knew you were capable of human empathy?”

He swats you off and rolls his eyes. He’s laughing. You wait for a bite back. It doesn’t come. It feels weird. There’s usually no absence of talk back from Megumi. Ever since the the first grade when you were suddenly made aware of his presence, it feels like he’s never been quiet since then. Always

biting back, arguing with you - making his presence aware. But in the dark of night, you’re not sure if he’s even here. You reach and poke into the side of his shoulder, just to make sure I’m not imagining the entire thing.

“You’re different here, y/n.”

“Being alone on a roof, hundreds of miles from everyone else we know, with the possibility of death tomorrow will do that to you.”

He takes a beat, squinting his eyes trying to discern the writing on my face once again. You swear his eyes pinch in concern, but push the thought away all together.

“Good different, y/n.”

You don’t respond. You feel the heat rise to your cheeks, biting your cheeks to avoid showing him the effect his words have on you. The two of you turn back and look at the hills over the few buildings, the sky turning from dead black to a dark, navy blue.

The next morning, you trudge to breakfast with your eye bags darker than usual. Your contacts couldn’t be pried into your swollen eyes so you mentally prepare myself for the jokes that will be made at breakfast.

Some part of you thinks you dreamed the night before. It doesn’t seem like something that would actually happen. Megumi saying you were different, running his hands through your hair? Impossible.

As you reach the buffet, you reach to slide in the seats in between Itadori and Todo, who have clearly had the most restful sleep out of everyone at the table. As they’re all screaming at each other, you look up and see Megumi sitting there, eating (stabbing) a very sad looking stack of pancakes. As we make eye contact, you smile at him. He doesn’t smile back.

maybe you did dream about what happened last night.

You reach for the Martinelli’s apple juice bottle at the center of the table and twist the cap open on the first try.

“Itadori, look! I opened it on the first try. I told you I could do it.”

He rolls his eyes at you.

“As if. Megumi opened it before you got here.”

As everyone gets side tracked into their own conversations again, you look over again. He finally smiles back, the tips of his ears pink once again.

#fushiguro x you #megumi fushiguro #megumi x you #megumi x reader #megumi x y/n #fushiguro x reader #fushiguro x y/n #jujutsu megumi #seeingivywrites!#archived!

262 notes · View notes

piratekane · 2 years ago

Note

If you’re still doing those prompt fills for Avatrice with the numbers I’d like to request one. I’ve read and adored literally every one. Can I say dealers choice? I have to assume there is one you’ve been hoping someone would pick but hasn’t. Thanks for the beautiful works!!

four: i'll stay right here, okay?

Ava sinks back into the grass, pieces of hair slipping off her forehead to rest around her ears. She breathes in deeply and exhales, the sound shattering the silence between them.

Beatrice hides a smile, tucks it away under the shadow of her arm, and stretches her legs out for a moment, feeling a satisfactory stretch of muscle, before she says, "Yes?"

Ava breathes in again, then exhales nosily and childlike. Beatrice doesn't fight her smile this time. Ava lifts her head, grinning widely, with one eye open as she squints against the sun. When she sees Beatrice looking, she falls back against the soft earth.

"I used to dream of going somewhere like this." She holds an arm out, fingers curled in a complicated pattern that form shadows over her face. "Of, like, a blanket of blue sky. That stretches as far as I can look in either direction." She sits up, resting on her elbows now. "You're just a bonus, of course."

Beatrice feels her cheeks flush and sends up a prayer that the sun hides most of it from Ava's eyes. "Yes," she says carefully. "It is a magnificent sight. I've never seen anything like it before."

She's staring directly at Ava when she says it.

Ava doesn't know that. Ava is staring at the thin, bright white clouds above them as they drift slowly across the sky. "For a long time, after the accident, I was convinced the sky had just... fallen down. I could barely see it out the window in my room. Diego talked about it, sometimes, but I just couldn't imagine... this."

Beatrice tips her face up to the sun. "I'm sorry you didn't get to see it before now." Her hand dig into the grass she's sitting on, tight and curled fists as she stops herself from reaching over and brushing away the wrinkle of thought between Ava's eyes. "But you do now."

"But I do now," Ava agrees. She turns her head and meets Beatrice's eyes. "It was worth it. The wait. This... this is how you should experience this. In a quiet place with your favorite person in the world."

Beatrice hears a thin whistle as she inhales sharply. Ava, so casual with her words, stares back at her. Beatrice wets her lip. "Lilith will be disappointed to hear that."

Ava's face breaks into a smile. "We could take a picture for her. A selfie! Yeah, come on." She starts to wiggle through the grass, smile growing by the inch. "You love selfies. We can practice your peace signs."

Beatrice's stomach tightens. "No. No, I'm quite alright."

Ava's laugh seems to echo off the mountain peaks around them, bright and clean and sparkling in the air. "Camila will be so disappointed to hear it. She's very invested in your selfie game."

"Yes, well." Beatrice clears her throat. "The two of you could stand to send less of those to each other. I don't see the need to take pictures of each meal. Certainly not with your own face in the frame."

"Oh, Beatrice," Ava sings. It's a discussion they have once a day, usually when Beatrice is trying to do something productive like make their grocery list or bundle them out the door for their shift or turn off the light so they can rest before the sun comes back up in the sky. Ava is determined to make her understand the appeal of taking selfies, despite her disdain for them.

"Ava," she says, voice flat. "You have your things. I have mine."

Ava pouts. "You are my thing, though. And selfies. So why can't I combine my things into one really good thing? Hmm? Isn't that logical? Don't you like logic?"

"I... Do not like that logic."

"So you're picking and choosing the logic?" Ava shakes a finger at her. "Not very... genial?"

"Friendly or cheerful."

Ava thinks about it for a moment. "Nah, not the word I'm looking for. But it doesn't matter. The point is that you don't get to pick and choose the logic. I just think if you take more pictures, I have more options for my phone background. The one of you looking completely terrified of holding Lorin's baby is starting to not be as funny. I need new material, Bea. We need to make that happen."

"Ava," she sighs. It does nothing to deter Ava's smile. Beatrice shakes her head. "There are more important things than... taking pictures of me."

She curses herself for a moment. Sometimes she's like a rain cloud on Ava's sunny day. But it doesn't seem to bother Ava. Her smile only widens, her eyes sparkling.

"Yes," she agrees. "Like getting some fondue now that you've kicked my ass up one side of the mountain and down the other. So." She sits up and claps her hands together. "What do you say?"

She smiles like Beatrice can say no. Like Beatrice can say no to her. And she knows that, uses that particular talent when she wants to stay out a few minutes later than usual; when she wants pancakes from the bakery instead of the box in their cabinet; when she doesn't want to put her towel back on the hook and leaves it on the floor; when she begs Beatrice to bring her a pair of socks because she can't get out of bed with cold feet.

And Beatrice gives, topples like a card tower on a breeze-less day. Ava is grinning before Beatrice even says yes, already knowing what the answer is.

She sighs, for effect. Just to make herself feel like she gave this a fighting chance.

"Fine. But we're not going overboard this time. You had a stomachache for a day after the last time." She stands, stretches her arms above her head and listens to the satisfying crack of her shoulder. "I'll just-" She frowns. "My water bottle."

Ava, starting to stand, winces. "I think I left it." She pushes her bottom lip out in a pout. "I can go get it for you."

Beatrice is already shaking her head. "I don't want to spend all day searching for you because you can't be bothered to remember your north from your south." She takes the sting out of the words with a slight smile. "But I'll be right back."

Ava smiles, tilting her head a little bit. "I'll stay right here, okay?"

There's a weight in the moment that Beatrice won't feel until later, until her hands are empty and her heart feels poured out and there are no tears left to cry.

But she doesn't feel it now, not when Ava is smiling with the power of a hundred suns and the wind is tangling the ends of her hair and the sky is blue. No, she only feels peace right now.

"Okay." She takes a step back, grass tickling her ankles. "You promise."

Ava's smile blooms. "I swear it, Bea. I won't go anywhere without you." She holds out her pinky. "Want to pinky promise on it?"

Beatrice lingers for a moment, poised to turn and jog back down the path to where her water bottle is waiting in the dappled sunshine. For a moment, Ava is haloed in golden light, one hand outstretched. Beatrice has always hoped that one day she would witness the divine - she didn't know it would be now, with her knees caked in dirt and sweat soaking the collar of her shirt. She didn't know it would be now, with the smell of almond blooms in the air and the mountains casting shadows around them.

She suddenly doesn't think that she would be able to witness anything this divine anywhere else.

"No," she says softly after a moment. "No, I know you mean it."

Ava makes a clumsy attempt at a cross, grinning. "Cross my heart." She drops back down into the lush grass, legs folded underneath her and leans back on her hands, face tipped up towards the sun as she closes her eyes. Beatrice watches her for a moment, feeling like she's intruding on a private moment.

She quickly turns and darts back down the path towards the heart of the forest where she's sure her water bottle is. Maybe she'll let Ava take one picture, if she's allowed to give artistic direction on it and she deletes all of the 'outtakes' Ava is so fond of using as reactions to Camila's texts.

She hurries. She doesn't want to leave Ava waiting; doesn't want to be apart from her for too long. But she knows that Ava will wait for her. She promised. And Ava doesn't break promises to her.

#i've wanted to write this one for a little bit so thank you for giving me the choice mucho appreciation #warrior nun #avatrice #ava silva #sister beatrice #the switzerland era reigns supreme

203 notes · View notes

washa · 1 year ago

Text

I listened to Friendsgiving audio and here’s my favourite personal comments/thoughts!

Lasko being late?? Again?? Honey you’ll be rivalling Asher at this rate 😭

Who is he talking to? Like which listener?? I’m just gonna assume it’s coworker.

Oh nvm it is Coworker 🙏 Yes i’m very excited to meet them too.

AWH YOU CAN HEAR HIS SMILE IN THE “I’m glad!” FWEHJJ

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

HIII DAMIEN

Lmfao why’d he sound so surprised to see Coworker? I mean who else would they be coming with?? Huxley???

“And you decided to come anyway, Blink twice if you need help.” Thanks Damien, I’ll keep that in mind 🙌

I like how he’s talking about Huxley like he’s some sort of spawn of devil destined to ruin his life when it’s literally his boyfriend.

It is for your own good, last audio you nearly burst a blood vessel Damien.

Why is he saying it like it’s a bad thing?? Relax babes.

GAVINNN HIII OH MY GOD OF COURSE THAT’S THE FIRST THING COWORKER HEARS FROM GAVIN

I love the sigh of frustration from Damien.

“Ooh, It’s been awhile since I was called the devil. Are you looking to make a deal wildfire?” GAVIN

LASKO PLEASE, I’m so happy he’s more snarky.

Me cro wai vey. Of course Damien brings that up.

“No he’s not.” HELP THE WAY THEY BOTH SAY IT AT THE SAME TIME LMFAO

God Damien is such a drama queen. Yeah let’s play some mario kart.

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

Huxley. Is it black/grey or clear?? What do you mean is that steam or smoke???

Damien sounds like an asian mom, I’m crying 😭

“Huxley, Open the door.” You were meant to be mine, I was meant to be yours! (The girls who get it, get it. The girls who don’t, don’t.)

Damien please sit down, Gavin please shut.

I love how Coworkers first interaction of DamiHux is Damien pleading for Huxley to open a kitchen door.

“No can do baby.” URGH STOP IT.

Wait, isn't this the same song that was playing when Gavin and Damien were talking about him and Hux in the coming out video. Livin’ On a Prayer is a DamiHux song canon.

THAT’S WHAT I'M SAYING LASKO, THERE'S NO WAY IT ISN'T.

Huxley you softie, he’s probably gonna shove right pass you and go cook 😭

NOO NOT THE ROLLS, Nevermind he gets shoved out immediately. His whinging, god he’s suffering out there. He’s like a dejected puppy.

“Oh my god he’s losing his mind.” Huxley, that's the love of your life out there.

They’re both delusional. It will not be good in the end. 😕

Awh Huxley, yes we love baby steps. OH MY GOD WHAT. DURING WHAT NOW 😨

Tbf yeah Freelancer is the last person to worry about when talking about your sex life 😭

Ay no worries, Love ya. YES HUGSS. OH SHIT WHOOPS.

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

Yes, let's sneak into the kitchen like some sort of reboot version of Spy Kids.

Damien’s pleading his case right now, Take a break bro, You’re going through the stages of grief rn 😭

“I’m beating you again Damien look at the TV come on.” Why did he say that so sexily, what the fuck 😕

HELP HE JUST OPENED THE DOOR RIGHT AWAY.

Awh Huxley is so sweet, Yes I do hugs you big baby 💕

“Lasko gets such a big smile on his face anytime he talks about you, And anybody that can make a guy as sweet as him happy is great in my book.” STOP IT, YOU’RE SO FUCKING ADORABLE OHKJLKJF

Freelancer? That’s me though?? HELP WHY IS IT SILENT 😭😭

Yeah I bet we’re hitting it off, can’t hear shit but yeah 😇

Bless Lasko, please do help him with the cooking.

Are we talking right now? HOW LONG IS THE SILENCE.

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

Gavin and Damien have such a funny dynamic, love em both.

“I think you and I have very different ideas of revenge.” “I bet in this case they’re more similar than you think.” Glaring at the HBA bonus audio rn.

I can’t tell if Lasko’s being truthful or just polite. 👎

Oh Damien approves, We’re in the clear then!

LMFAO OK?? Huxley uses a pickup truck canon.

“And if you ever lock me out of the kitchen again, I’m setting your truck on fire.” “Awh, There’s my man!” MY LITTLE SRUNKLIES ADORABLE

For a second I thought Huxley was gonna say Mate and my brain just did a reboot.

Yippee a toast! Here here! OH MY GOD HUXLEY YOU’RE RIGHT.

WE’RE LIKE AVATAR 🙏🙏

“We can make a really destructive Orgy?” LASKO LMFAO WHAT BABES YOU’RE LOVER AND BOO THANG IS RIGHT THERE.

Actually no, Coworker probably fell in love with him more.

Yes, I'm very happy to be here Damien.

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #I think this a sign for the summit actually #the summits gonna be a nightmare.#redacted friendsgiving #redacted damn crew #redacted damien #redacted huxley #redacted lasko #redacted dear #redacted coworker #redacted freelancer #redacted gavin #washa rants!!

42 notes · View notes

greenlotusleaf · 2 years ago

Text

@widenmyhips

Hi Poppy, this one's for you. Hope it's mean enough :)

Kurt clicked through spreadsheets and diagrams, triple-checking things he already knew were correct. He shifted in the bed, trying to find a comfortable position where he could reach both keyboard and mouse, and could see the screen, but where his belly wasn't crushing his lungs or bladder or whatever other parts were crammed into his abdomen. These days, he felt about 85% belly, 15% miscellaneous..

The sound of the front door interrupted Kurt's grousing. "Naomi? Is that you?" He heaved his body down from the bed to go check.

It was, indeed, Naomi. She set her bags down in the kitchen and breezed into the house with a lightness that made Kurt envious. "I left work early! I wanted to bring you lunch." She kissed him on the forehead, then appraised him at arms' length. "How's my little prince feeling? And aren't you supposed to be in bed?"

Kurt pushed away, huffily. "Not so little, as you're perfectly aware. And I've been in bed all morning. AND I've already had lunch. It's nearly two PM." He watched Naomi watching him, her poker face at full strength. But hunger overpowered irritation, and he flicked his eyes to the takeout bag. "...What did you bring me?"

"Cobb salad," she offered. "From Diane's Barbecue. I know you've been so hungry, lately." It was a sweet gesture, and Kurt knew defeat when it came calling. He waddled to the counter and began to unpack the bag.

Soon, he was pouring creamy jalapeño dressing over a vast salad, and Naomi was gliding over beside him to rub his back. "So, how was your day, handsome?"

Kurt surprised them both by bursting into tears.

"Completely terrible! Installation started on the Omaha job today, and I'm stuck here, instead of being there to run it."

"Aww, sweetie," Naomi soothed. "That's awful! I'm sorry, I didn't realize that was today."

"They're sending Alan instead," Kurt grumbled, hoisting a bacon-and-brisket-heavy forkful. "This fucking sucks so bad."

"Alan? Seriously?? But you've been designing Omaha for months, and Alan's a dipshit!"

"But Alan, and this is really crucial, isn't too fat to do the installation!" Kurt smoothed his shirt taut over his body, and Naomi took the dare, openly looking at her husband's new enormity. His belly, spherical and huge, pulled little gaps between the buttons of his shirt and tented the garment out in front of him like a pornographically short dress. His hips had grown so wide that only maternity sweats had any prayer of containing them, and they stretched obscenely over his wobbling ass. Kurt had softened up generally, his body padded out by unexpected new softness in every direction.

"Oh, babe," Naomi swept forward to embrace him. "You're not fat, you're just pregnant! Wonderfully, gorgeously, handsomely pregnant with our little miracles!"

"Don't lie to me," he shuddered into her embrace. "It's both, I know I'm both, so pregnant and so fucking fat! It's not fair! Your babies are making me huge, I'm hungry literally all the time, and I still have two months to go! And I--" He stopped himself short and shoved away. "Are you seriously getting a fucking erection right now?"

There wasn't any point in trying to hide it, so she didn't. "Am I not allowed to admire my handiwork, now? Is that the new rule?"

He sputtered, not finding words, so she stepped forward, her dick visibly hard now, in outline against her slacks. "Yes. I like your body like this. I like you swollen, so ripe for me. You *know* I do." She advanced on him again. "And *I* know... that *you* like it too."

"Fuck you."

But his heart wasn't in it, and when she put her hand on his cheek, he didn't turn away. "Didn't you ask for this? Didn't you climb up on top of me and beg me..." --she put her other hand on the vast, tight curve of his belly-- "...for this?"

"Yes, but...."

She was slowly rubbing his belly, now. Winding him up. "Go on."

"But it was only a fantasy!" he whined. "And I didn't actually think you could do it. But then you fucking pumped me full of triplets, and now I feel ready to explode!"

Naomi rested her hand on his thickened waist, just above the hip, and squeezed. "Sounds like you underestimated me, and you got what you deserved." She was pulling him forward, grinding her cock into his swollen belly through their clothes.

Kurt, without words, could only whimper. So Naomi went on: "Is this the same husband who pushed his little stomach out to tease me, and told me to imagine how big he could get? Well, I don't have to imagine anymore, fat boy, so where's that teasing energy now? Whatever happened to 'just wait until I'm too big to fuck, and all I can do is worship this cock'? You sounded like you were looking forward to it."

In spite of himself, Kurt felt himself heating up. She was right, she knew him too thoroughly, knew how to push all his buttons, leaving him a mewling mess. Part of him hated how easily she could manipulate him like this, but a much bigger part of him leaned in, pursuing the feeling she was inciting. He pressed his head against her chest, feeling his pussy throb.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Naomi consoled. "I know it's been a rough day. Let's go to the bed, and I'll make you feel better, huh?"

"Okay," Kurt conceded. "I think I really need that today."

"Of course, my love," she whispered, kissing his ear. "Can you still even reach your dick?"

He flushed even redder, flooded with a potent mix of lust and shame. "Shut the fuck up."

She pushed him gently down onto the edge of the bed and kissed him silent, her hands undoing his shirt buttons one by one. "Make me? ...But I doubt you can do that either, really...." With his shirt fully opened, she caressed the huge, swollen dome of his belly, tracing the angry red stretchmarks, brushing up against his protruding belly button. She pushed him back, until he was fully laying down, his legs off the bed, his belly towering over him. "Lately it seems like *I'm* the one making *you* do things."

Kurt squirmed on the bed, trying to push his sweatpants down over his broadened hips. Naomi watched him struggle a moment before helping, grasping his waistband while he lifted his enormous ass off the bed, allowing her to disrobe him.

He panted, naked, on the bed, feeling the cool air on his skin, feeling his wife's hungry gaze. He was insatiable; he was desperate to be taken, devoured, used.

"Like grow?" he asked, affecting innocence. "Like grow a big, round, heavy belly for you?" He put his hands on his stomach, emphasizing its size. Craning his neck to see past his baby bump, he watched Naomi slip out of her blouse, her tiny tits making the spectacle of his bloated body seem even more vast. "Or like the way you've made me waddle, and squeeze through doorways, and overflow chairs, while you get to be the-- hhmmfff --graceful, skinny bitch on my arm?"

She was standing nude between his thighs now, resting her erection against his labia, making him gasp. "Or like the way you've made me outgrow all my clothes?" She leaned forward on tiptoe, dragging her breasts lightly over his swollen bump, teasing his lips with the motion of her cock, too outside. "That's just a plot to get you to spend more time naked," she smiled, fingers skipping playfully across his plump chest. Tall as she was, she couldn't reach any closer to his jaw from this angle. Not past that gigantic gut.

"What about the way you're making me eat and eat, eat constantly, ravenously, eat myself huge," he gasped, "just to keep your babies comfortable? Do you even know," he dropped his voice low, conspiratorially, grinding against her cock and trying to get it inside him, "how much heavier I am now than when you knocked me up? *Eighty pounds.* You put *eighty pounds* on me, with your cum and all this takeout. And... I think that turns you on. You fucking pervert."

"Of course that turns me on," Naomi stood and kissed the top of his belly. "How could it not? You're built like a fertility god! But I happen to know," she began, slowly kneeling, kissing her was down the curve of his vastness, "that you're equally a pervert, because you get off on this just as much as I do, or maybe more. I haven't done a single thing you haven't asked for."

"But you knocked me up with triplets!" He squirmed as she made her way down between his fattened thighs, to his molten core. "You made me a w-- w-- whale!"

"You were begging for it, sweet boy. As I see it," she took a cruel break from licking to drive the stake into his heart, "the main difference right now between you and Alan-- currently not on bedrest and too fat to install robots-- is that *Alan* didn't spread his slutty little legs and beg for his womb to be flooded until he was as big as a house. Now, refresh my memory... who *did* do that?"

He waited, in agony, but she had more patience. He desperately needed her to continue eating him out, to get him off. The confession built up like pressure in a volcano, until it burst forth from his lips: "...I did! I wanted your cock and your baby inside me! I wanted to get heavy and round for you! And I am! I am!"

He knotted his fingers in the sheets as she resumed taking care of him, feeling helpless and huge. He imagined he could feel himself growing under her lustful attention. He wondered how big he would be in two more months, and how ravenous that would make his wife.

"Please," he gasped. "Let me cum. I can't-- I'm too big to do it myself."

She pushed him over the edge into climax, and he came.

When the shaking subsided, Kurt opened his eyes to see Naomi standing, smiling down at him over his belly. He thought back to what he said and imagined in the heat of the moment and burned with embarrassment, but she just caressed his enormous girth, gently asking if he was comfortable, satisfied, happy. He felt her hardness brush against his inner thigh, and a shiver surged through him.

"I love you," she said, and he basked in the glow of her voice. "And I love the way you look right now."

"Even though I'm too big," he protested softly?

Her hands moved, grabbing his hips roughly. "Listen to me. This sexy, wonderful body belongs to me now, husband mine. Every inch of it, every pound, all belongs to me. So if you're overstuffed, if you're feeling heavy and bloated and wide," her cock pressed against his entrance, punctuating her words, "that's because I'm making you that way. On purpose. Because you're mine and that's how I want you.

"Now spread for me and take this cock like a good little prince, and remind me how you ended up so big to begin with."

With a slow effort, Kurt spread his thighs a little wider, as his wife demanded. Why did this kind of talk turn him on so much? She was pushing him around in every way-- pushing him to grow bigger and bigger, pushing him down onto the bed-- and now she was pushing into him, parting his slick folds with her hardness. He felt like a detached observer, a hovering presence in the room, watching himself from a distance. He watched the fat man on the bed squirm, pinned beneath a ripening belly, his whole body wobbling as his tall, trim wife fucked her pleasure out of him. He was spellbound, watching her beautiful, slender body move within him, so much more compact now than his heavy bulk. She was the reason for this contrast, the reason he had blown up like this-- she and the same greedy, frenzied rutting she was repeating now.

He saw himself placing his hands on his huge belly and bucking his hips, heard himself moan and curse and plead. And then her voice brought him back to himself.

"Next time, I'm going to *really* knock you up," she growled, still pounding him. "Eighty pounds will be nothing. We'll fill you full of fertility supplements, make sure you're ovulating more than anybody ever has... and then, I'll...."

"You're going to make me burst!" he cried out. "You're going to make me too full, I'll tear in half, I'll explode, I'll, I'll split like a ripe fruit, you can't!"

She leaned in over his belly, hands caressing him while her cock thrust away within him like a promise. "My big, strong man can take it," she crooned. "And I know you too well: by the time we'll need to start the drugs, you'll be begging for it. Because... because that's why fertility gods get worshipped."

She fell silent, drawing near to her own climax, and he waited. Waited for her load, waited to grow even larger, waited for birth and recovery and all that comes after, and he imagined a future of pills and injections, a womb like a fuse ready to light, Naomi's hungry smiles and teasing caresses as she waits for the right moment to deliver on her threats. He imagined her cock, beautiful, terrifying, poised to set off an unstoppable change, imagined himself impossibly heavy, scared, sexy, out-of-control, growing without end.

"Please," Kurt gasped. "I want you to make me...."

Then he trembled, and cried out, and came.

#t4t preg #for poppy #belly expansion #belly kink #preg kink #weight gain kink #pregnancy kink

182 notes · View notes