#-a bad decision. one that cloud is going to REGRET AND HATE HIMSELF FOR

[demigod-of-the-agni]

call me insane, but if Jenova (and to some extension, Sephiroth) can appear as anyone you know, fear or love, what are the chances that Cloud kills someone else in this scene

And Sephiroth hugging Cloud? it's just that other person slumping over him as they die

[silens-oro]

You Know Where You Are: Part II

Not all fics have adult content, but this blog is 18+. Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x f!Musician!Reader Angst/Established Relationship Part I | Part III

The Pitt Playlist located here The Pitt Masterlist

Synopsis: Dr. Robby's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Morning bleeds into an Even Worse Afternoon. Word Count: 3,579 Content Warning: Reader is in her 30's; mass shooting; death; blood; gunshot injuries; angst - if I've missed any, please let me know. A/N: Just know my rubbing my lil fly hands together nefariously. Thank you for all of the love on the first part!

Robby was relatively good at schooling his emotions at work, locking them away so as to not let them cloud his judgement when dealing with patients. They deserved his full attention, no matter who they were. The med students and residents deserved to learn from him in an appropriate setting. That’s not to say that Dana didn’t clock the black cloud that clung to him the second he walked into the ED, because that’s exactly what she did. That and she knew Robby like the back of her hand.

“Good morning. Surprised to see you today,” Dana greeted, a knowing smile gracing her features. Robby just grunted his greeting, confirming her suspicions. “Hate to make your questionable morning worse, but Gloria is looking for you.” 

He couldn’t wait for this day to end.

The cold water from the bathroom sink hit Robby’s face with a jolt. He brought another handful up to follow the first for good measure. This day just kept derailing in one way or another -more than an ED usually derails in a day. He dried his face and pulled his phone out.

He sent you a text just after Jake came to pick up the backstage passes from him and sighed when he saw the ‘Read 11:26 AM’ under his message, then looked at the clock -12:51 PM. You were busy, he told himself. He was lying to himself, but with the day that he already had, it was the only thing allowing him to tread water.  

Between the fight with you, the anniversary of losing Adamson, the patients lost, and the hysterical families he’s dealt with today -add on the possibility of a future school shooter on the loose, Robby was heavily regretting his stupid decision to ask for this shift. 

And it was only one in the afternoon. 

This was his punishment from the universe. 

“You good?” Dana had asked as Robby stopped across from her at the nurses station and set down a tablet. He had pushed his glasses up to squeeze the bridge of his nose, scrunching his eyes closed. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop the migraine that was edging at the corners of his eyes. Robby let out the deepest sigh before letting his glasses fall back down. 

“Define good.” His face was still pinched as he looked down to Dana.

“That bad?”

“You don’t know half of it.” Dana walked around the station and gently grabbed Robby’s arm to lead him to the breakroom. 

“Perlah, can you handle this for a few? I’ll be right back.” Perlah nodded as Princess tried not to obviously crane her neck behind Perlah to listen in as well.

“I don’t know what he did, but I’m on her side.” Princess said to Perlah in Tagalong, referring to you. Perlah nodded with an “mhm” before going back to her computer. 

“This have anything to do with why you’re here and not at PittFest?” Dana asked with an eyebrow raised as they got to the breakroom. She closed the door as Robby leaned against the counter, arms crossed, and guarded. Dana came to stand next to him, busying herself with making two cups of coffee to give him room. He’d open up if she did this right, otherwise she’d be adding to the natural disaster of a cloud that followed him during their shift and that’s the opposite of what she wanted to do. They still had four hours of their left before they could call it quits and he needed to let some of that steam out before whatever was inside boiled over.  

The last time you spoke to Dana over coffee, you told her how excited you were to get Mike out of the house -out of the hospital. She couldn’t agree with you more that the man needed a break. Robby needed to experience things that weren’t the ED and anything within a five block radius of the hospital. Sure you got him out of the house on the occasion that he was up for going somewhere further, but he needed joy, and hanging with you and Jake outside in the sun, fresh air, music and food would do just that. That was the plan, anyway. Dana just needed to piece together where the plan that was set in stone went sideways.

Robby pins Dana with a look and she knows she’s at least hit that nail on the head.

“What happened?” She asked softly, leaving the question open so Robby could respond in a way that didn’t corner him. Placing the cup of coffee she made for him on the counter, she held hers nestled between both of her hands. 

“I happened.” He rubbed his face with both hands. “I didn’t tell her I wasn’t going until this morning.”

“Robby!” Dana whispered the exclamation, eyes wide. He held up a hand.

“I know, believe me, I know. It was stupid.”  

“Stupid is an understatement, doc. Listen, I know why you did it. I get it. Today is heavy -emotionally and mentally. You need to stay busy and any downtime leaves room for too much thinking. Working does that for you.”

“Yeah.” Robby sighed, tapping his fingers on the counter. At least his arms had left their defensive position crossed over his chest. That was a win in Dana’s book. 

“But that doesn't mean it’s right. You can’t hide yourself away here when you’re going through something, Robby, not when you have someone who is willing to shoulder that burden with you.” Dana corrected him gently, placing her hand over his bicep. The worst part about this conversation was that Robby knew Dana was right. He knew he went about this the wrong way entirely, but he can’t seem to get out of his own goddamn way sometimes. You would’ve understood, even encouraged him to do what he needed to- “Communication is important, you know this. It’s nothing I haven’t said to you before.” Dana finished softly. Goddamn communication. If only it was that easy, that simple. 

“God, you’d think I’d understand that by now.” He chuckled sardonically. 

“There’s always time to learn.” She encouraged Robby. “She loves you -I know that for a fact. Reach out, leave the ball in her court. Let her know you understand.” He was already ahead of her on that suggestion, and it felt like he was stranded at sea with a single life preserver and no rescue ship in sight. 

“No luck?” Dana asked when she saw Robby looking down at his cell in the few spare minutes he had just after a particularly unruly patient in South 15. He shook his head and pocketed it, departing to meet Langdon so Dana couldn’t dig further. She meant well, but it was starting to grate on his nerves and the last thing he wanted to do was snap at Dana. Because that would be the last thing he ever did once she got through with him. 

Robby had been off and everyone who worked with him on the daily took notice -outside of Dana who clocked him the second he came through the doors. The glances from the residents and nurses said as much. The new interns and residents didn’t know anything was off until Whitaker overheard Langdon talking to Mohan about it. Gossip spread like the wildfire in the ED. The second it was out, there was no reeling it back in. 

Robby knew he was cutting it close, that your band’s set was scheduled for a 5 PM start, but he texts you again around 4 PM to ask you to please call him when you had a few minutes -that he loved you and just needed to talk. You replied with a simple ‘busy’ and that was somehow worse than no response at all. Robby knew he was in the doghouse when they both got home -if you even decided to come back to his place that night. “You know what, Mike…probably not” Robby winced at the memory and carried on with his neverending shift. 

The exasperation that laced your voice and the frustration that shined in your eyes this morning made Robby bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself present. He would apologize, genuinely -profusely-, when you decided to speak to him again. He would listen. He would communicate. He couldn’t risk this driving a wedge between you like it had in his past relationships. He’d fix this. This was fixable, he told himself. He didn’t want to think of the alternative. That was the last thing he needed after the day he had, but he knew he was an asshole and you were generally too understanding of him and his quirks -today notwithstanding. 

At the 5:15 PM mark, he got a facetime call from Jake. Excusing himself from South 10, leaving the patient in Mohan’s hands, he quickly stepped into a more quiet hallway to answer. A smile lifted his lips for the first time all day when Jake’s beaming face came onto the screen.

“Robby!” Jake shouted over the festival noise.

“Hey, bud!” All of Robby’s emotions nearly broke through the dam he crafted at the beginning of the shift.

“Me and Leah just wanted to say thank you for the passes!” The phone panned down to a young blonde next to Jake. She beamed up at him, then down to the phone. 

“Thank you so much, Robby! This is incredible!” The phone twisted back up to Jake’s face. 

“You’re coming with us next time, Robby! This is insane! Look at this view,” Jake flipped the camera to capture what he saw from the back lens. Jake was backstage facing the crowd. You were the first thing Robby saw. He recognized the song and could hear the crowd singing along to it as you moved across the stage. 

Robby’s heart clenched. Seeing you in your element was mesmerizing no matter how many times he had seen it before. He met you well after your career was established, but he still felt pride nonetheless. You were successful, humble, and grateful above all else to do what you loved -and to make a generous living on top of it. 

You toured the world, saw everything there was to see, and sometimes Robby felt like an anchor in the worst way. It felt almost like an insecurity that he wouldn’t be the person to experience those things with you, but he had been warned before you both decided to try your unorthodox relationship out -just as you had been warned about his profession and what that entailed.

This was the first time in Robby’s life that he had ever been in a relationship with someone who had an equally, if not more demanding job when it came to sacrificing time at home. It worked for you both so far, to the surprise of everyone. 

Your band had taken this year off from touring to write and record a new album, and you had a tour across North America scheduled for the following spring once the album was released in February of next year. The thought of not seeing you for months at a time was anxiety inducing, he would admit. The last time you left was on a 3 month tour through Europe and Asia, and Robby didn’t realize he could miss someone as much as he missed you. 

On the flipside, you hadn’t ever had a partner who wasn’t in the industry, so leaving him behind was brutal in its own way knowing he couldn’t just hop on a plane to meet you for a few stops. You got homesick when you never got homesick before meeting Robby. He had become your home in the last three years and it was a welcomed adjustment. 

This year was a nice cushion of time to relax and play solitary shows at local festivals or secret shows in smaller venues around Pittsburgh and occasionally Philly. Sometimes Robby made it to them, sometimes he didn’t. Some of Robby’s coworkers that you had met would show after you’d extended an invitation to any of your home shows. Dana and her husband, surprisingly, were the first to take up the offer. No one in the ED would believe you when you said she was wild on a night out, her husband encouraging her to let loose. After that, you and Dana had been two peas in a pod. Langdon still could not believe that Robby was dating an actual rockstar and was a little starstruck every time you showed up. 

That being said, you had been home more often than Robby was as of recent (whether you both landed at your place or his) and you never complained about anything really. You were just happy with the time you got with Robby and you spent every second you were afforded with him together. You rolled with whatever each day brought you and it was a breath of fresh air for Robby. He didn’t have to walk on eggshells when things didn’t go as planned and maybe he had gotten too comfortable with that. 

Robby was going to be sick -physically, viscerally, all-consumingly ill. There’s an active shooter at PittFest -Robby could have collapsed in that ambulance bay the second those words left Dana’s mouth as his work phone beeped in unison with hers. He wasn’t afforded even a second to panic before he had to shift to Dr. Robby and get all hands on deck to prep the ED for what was sure to be a mass casualty event. 

Robby called Jake, then texted Jake, then called him again, then moved on to calling and texting you, begging both of you to contact him in any way you could to make sure you Jake was okay -that you were okay.

5:46 PM, you were supposed to be on stage until 6 -Robby made a mental note. He prayed to whoever was listening -if anyone was listening- that the three of you got to safety. He nearly loses it when he sees Jack walk through the doors with his backpack in tow, ready to take on whatever this event brought through their doors. 

Dana was on a rotating call between your phone and Jake’s to try to get through to either of you as she prepped the nurses, and every time Robby asked her if she had gotten through, it broke a piece of her soul when she had to shake her head. 

You were fine. Jake was fine. Those were the words repeating in his brain over and over as triaged patients started to flood the ED. These people needed him and they needed him present, so he shut himself down emotionally and did what he knew how to do -he gave the best possible care under the current circumstances.

It was a lull in between songs while you were talking to the crowd when you saw an unusual scatter of patrons in the back cluster of people on the east side of the festival. You pulled out your ear monitors and heard screaming -blood curdling screaming, not the type of screaming from a normal crowd. In a split second, Nick -your guitarist and lifelong friend- collapsed to the floor of the stage, the guitar emitting a horrific feedback over the amps. Gasps and screams erupted from the crowd and mass panic set in. People started trampling each other as shots started ringing out. 

Your first instinct was to drop the mic and run over to Nick and that’s exactly what you did. The people stuck at the barricade were horrified and scared beyond belief because they were pinned in the crowd with nowhere to go as people dropped like flies. Blood pooled around Nick where he lay crumpled when you reached him.

Then you felt it. The sheer power was enough to knock you off your feet and you heard your name as you tried to crawl to safety. Fire radiated through your torso as you tried to lift yourself enough to move, but when you tried to pull yourself forward, your hand slipped in the blood on the stage that was leaking from somewhere on your body. Every instinct in your brain shut off with the exception of fleeing. Your brain screamed at you, begged you to go, go, go somewhere, anywhere, but your brain and your body could not connect so you simply lay there on your stomach, your eyes catching the crowd dispersing in mass pandemonium, blood pooling around you just as it had with Nick with your last coherent thought being that of Jake. Was he safe? Losing Jake would kill Robby and you couldn’t protect him. 

Your hands were noticeably cold, your body shivering regardless of the end of summer heat. The warmth of your blood pooled against the side of your face that was resting against the stage felt warm, warmer than you did and it was oddly comforting. Buzzing from your back pocket kept you present, awake, and aware, but you couldn’t move -you could barely breathe. 

“Leah, stay!” Jake’s panicked voice cracked as he flipped you onto your back and grabbed one of your feet to try to pull you to the side of the stage. 

“I have her other leg, just pull-” Another shot and you heard someone drop. 

“Leah!” Matt, your bassist, and a couple of the roadies put themselves in danger to help Jake drag you and Leah off the stage while Casey, your drummer, pulled Nick off to the side.

“Pressure! Put pressure on them!” You screamed incoherently when someone pushed something onto your stomach -at least you thought it was your stomach- and pain radiated through every limb and up your neck shooting blinding white light through your brain. It was enough to leave you breathless, wheezing, and falling in and out of consciousness. 

“Help pick her up on my three -one, two, three,” Someone lifted you into their arms and you were moving. You didn’t recognize them, possibly one of the roadies who didn’t work with your band or possibly just a good samaritan, but his face blurred every time you tried to look at him. “Hey, hey, don’t close your eyes.” He said as he kept looking down between you and where he was going. “We’re getting you out of here, alright? Stay with me.” He tried to coax you, shaking you in his arms to keep you awake. You didn’t even realize your eyes had closed. Your head tilted back, resting against his arm as he ran with you.

The sky was clear, you noticed, clearer than it had been in the past couple of weeks. The periwinkles of dusk were settling into the violets of night and you were getting colder by the minute. 

“Jake,” You wheezed out, the teen coming to the forefront of your mind. You tried to move in the man’s arms, but he held tight. “Leah,” Your voice slurred.

“The kid is alright.” He reassured you, only half answering -not that you were coherent enough to notice. “Just hold on, alright?” The next thing you knew, you were pulled into the bed of a pickup truck. “We’re gonna sit you up, alright?” You grunted as your back hit the cab of the truck. “We need you up so you can keep track of Jake, right Jake? He needs you to talk to him, alright? Talk to him about anything, you hear me? Don’t stop talking. Keep pressure here,” Not questioning him, you nodded and held someone’s balled up shirt to your torso with the stranger’s help. You grasped his bloody hands with one of yours to stop him before he could take off.

“Thank…you.” He looked at you, an emotion you couldn’t pinpoint flooded into his eyes, and he nodded as he squeezed your hand. 

“Mac, ma’am. Wished we met under better circumstances.” You chuckled groggily. You gave him your name. “You got ‘em?” Mac asked Jake. Jake nodded and Mac smacked the side of the truck to let the driver know to get the hell out of there and to the nearest hospital. 

Once the truck got moving, things got incredibly fuzzy while it tore out of the lot of the backstage area. Jake called your name and your eyes refocused on him and Leah. He was covered in blood and holding another shirt over the wound on her chest. 

“I’m fine, Jake,” You wheezed out. “Focus on Leah. Is she talking? Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, she’s talking,” His eyes danced between you and Leah. “I’m fine.” 

“Good,” You nodded sloppily, “Good. Focus on her. I’m alright,” You tried to reassure the kid, but you could see that he did not believe you. You blinked and felt someone hitting your foot.

“Keep your eyes open,” Jake demanded. Your eyes felt like they were filled with sand, weights pulling each one down further and further. Your skin was losing its color, the tone turning gray as each minute ticked by.  

“Just blinking, kid.” Your eyes were closed much longer than a blink and Leah’s speech was starting to slur as she looked up at him. He finally let his tears fall, his lips quivering in pure helplessness as it engulfed him when your head started to nod to the left. Jake’s voice sounded like it was under a tidal wave when he said your name again before you were out.

Please reblog, like, and/or leave comments :)

[rocknrollsalad]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest's Somewhere Over the Rainbow event

Feels like I've been ready for you to come home for so long

Prompt: a song featuring the word "orange" Song choice: Orange Juice by Noah Kahan Word Count: 1500 Rating: teen+ Tags: alcoholism, rehab, bad decisions, family support, returning home, anxiety AO3: here

There’s an old adage about not being able to go home again. Actually, there are a lot of adages about a lot of things and people love to spout them like facts but the one about going home again rang particularly true for Eddie right now. 

His car idled in a turn out, the turn to the trailer park was maybe twenty yards ahead, and all the cars that drove past hit their brakes because this was where the cops sat. They had it out for the residents of the trailer park, something Eddie had to take a bit of the blame for. He’d tore up and down this road countless times and had a stack of tickets to prove it. 

Except he wasn’t here to perform some civic duty and make the drive home safer for others. No, this was because he couldn’t drive those last twenty yards to his former home. The place he’d always call home, despite having lived in several other places at this point. 

It wasn't just the home but that was a big part of it. Eddie wanted to be here but, more importantly, he was supposed to be here today, at this time.

The boys in the band were acting his stand-in. Wayne’s annual birthday barbecue was at full rager status. At least as close to a rager as Wayne got, ten people minus his absent nephew who couldn't get his shit together in time enough to attend.

Not like it was a milestone or anything but this was Eddie's real civic duty. Making the old man celebrate himself. He hated every part of it. Eddie excitedly made him suffer through it year after year. 

Last year, he’d really made him suffer, though. Not in the fun “we got you a piñata” or “wear this silly hat” sort of way but in the kind of way people referred to as “the incident at Wayne’s birthday”. Never the legacy Eddie wanted to leave and it hung heavy over every appearance home thereafter.

Making an ass out of himself at someone else’s party, in the middle of butt fuck nowhere, wasn’t even the first wake up call. Eddie went on to create a few more “incidents” before the offer of rehab came. It was, however, the top of the regrets list.

No one cared about trashed hotel rooms or slurred performances, his manager had been paying every tab Eddie had just walked out on, and no one cared that he insulted that realty star on the red carpet, least of all Eddie.

What Eddie cared about was the damage done to Wayne and the embarrassment he and the rest of Corroded Coffin suffered. His amends list started and ended with those crimes. 

The hurt he was causing others and himself hung over mundane, day to day actions like those dark rain clouds that make everyone talk about storm cellars. So his manager issued a statement, the band found other projects to bide their time, and Eddie disappeared into the best resort money could buy.

Something he’d call a perk of fame but that was the same monster that encouraged excess, that provided liquor without Eddie asking for it, and pushed for him to stay out for just one more. Fame wasn’t to blame, of course, but it played as much a part in this as it did in getting Eddie into some posh spa situation. 

Six months was twice as long as he’d planned to stay in the place that made his skin crawl at arrival but you can’t rush perfection. Or, at least, that’s what the poster in the hall on the way to therapy said. It felt necessary at the time but sitting here on this particular piece of Hawkins he’d been on millions of times before, six months felt like a lifetime. 

What if they weren’t going to want him there? After last year, who could blame them? A worry that was more an excuse than anything, something to ruminate on in order to avoid the real worries. Namely, what if they didn’t like him now that he was sober? 

For as long as Eddie could remember, he was the life of the party. Finding some kind of inner peace or lacking the lubricant that allowed him to let go might make him insufferable. Eddie couldn’t count how many people they’d parted ways with rather than support through those twelve steps. He could be another victim of that. (He should have been better before now)

All the doctors, the repeat patients, and the too invested nurses would say that if they were truly Eddie’s friends, it wouldn’t matter. They’d support him either way. Sitting here, taking the leap to find that out felt like asking him to leap over the Grand Canyon in roller skates. Entertaining but impossible.

While Eddie worried if he was still entertaining or if the mellow version was still wanted, as he chain smoked and picked pieces off his steering wheel cover, an answer came in the least expected way.

Jeff walked his way out to the car Eddie had finally shut off. The absence of the engine's purr was comforting in its own way and he was pretty sure the gas gauge was a little too close to empty. Though it did make his stay here feel more permanent.

The crunching of gravel came like a comforting warm wind on a chilly fall day. No other gravel sounded like the stuff they had leading back to Wayne’s trailer. Eddie was sure he’d recognize those over-traveled rocks anywhere. 

Same with Jeff’s footsteps. Not always as comfortable but as easily recognizable as picking up Eddie’s favorite guitar. 

“Good to see you,” Jeff said as Eddie cranked the window down. 

“Yeah.” was all Eddie managed.

Behind it was everything Eddie had wanted to say for the last six months. Apologies, stories, and honestly, more apologies. Somewhere in there was how much he’d missed the man too but all he managed was a single syllable. 

“You’re looking good…better.” 

Eddie’s hand held the door handle but he didn’t pull it. 

Jeff continued. “We weren’t sure you were coming but we got soda for you just in case. Wayne’s drinking that mud he insists is coffee and I’m sure we can buy some juice off the neighbors. It’s about the time in the month where her kids get tired of apple juice.” 

“Thanks, man.” 

“We get it and, ya know, we got you. Whatever you need.” 

Eddie let out a sigh so heavy he felt tears well up, something he didn’t want to look into now as he easily blinked them away. 

“Don’t sit out here all night, we’ve got a couple of burgers with your name on ‘em when you’re ready.” 

There was no need to try and find a response to that, Jeff patted the side view mirror awkwardly and made the slow walk back the way he came. 

He wasn’t even out of sight before Eddie lit a cigarette and dropped back against his seat. All he had to do was turn the key, put it in drive, and go up there. Three little things. Yet he couldn’t do any of them. Soon, though. He’d manage it soon. 

One cigarette led to another but something in that second one gave Eddie a bit of courage. Though he framed it more as preventing them from sending people out.

The thought of a steady stream of people coming out to let him know everything was okay sounded worse than torture. If only because Eddie couldn't stomach that many heart-to-hearts right now. He couldn't give that many apologies at once.  

And it would be a matter of time before Gareth made the same trip Jeff had. The Freak would be next and if shit got real bad, Wayne would come out. None of that needed to happen. It was time to rip the bandage off. 

Gradually. Even after starting the car, Eddie sat through a couple of songs for good measure. Wishing now more than any time in the last few months that he could have a drink. Something to take the edge off.

Heading down that gravel road meant there was no turning back. Literally but also figuratively. If they knew he was there, they would know when he moved. So Eddie crept up to the one place he thought he'd always want to return to. He parked in the same spot he always had and got out. 

Wayne greeted him with a burger, fresh and warm somehow. No one asked any questions or stopped what they were talking about. Though the festivities had died down some the party went on like nothing had changed. 

Gareth tossed over a can of Mtn Dew after Eddie got settled and as he chewed the familiarly charred meat, Eddie realized all this worry was for nothing. These were the people who loved him no matter what. He’d always have a place at their table.

[may-nr1rooftoptriodefender]

CHIHIRO

pairing: aizawa shouta x reader (oc- ish)

warnings: mha vigilante spoilers!/mha s5ish spoilers!, mentioned sexual themes, alcohol, trauma and angst😔

i’m back! so i didn’t write a summary cause i wanna let y’all get right into it… it is not proofread it is 6am i wanna sleep and i’ve been sitting here for 2 hours so my bad… i’m very excited for this one and since they made my boy oboro just dissapear into thin air??? i decided to give him some love (he’s still dead but like, oboro- centric okay🙄)

also, there’s not rlly smut in here but it’s implied so read at ur own risk!!

masterlist

Aizawa Shouta’s life was full of regrets. Some were small, quick mistakes that are forgotten easily. Others were heavy, forever burned in his mind, dragging him down. Some things you can’t let go. Moments full of guilt. His past is a heavy weight on his shoulders. Every single regret made him the man he is today.

There is one day, that will haunt him forever. A day that formed every future decision of him. Just at 16 years facing the cruel reality. If he had been faster, better, stronger… He was unprepared and naive. A life taken too soon, he made sure it’ll never happen again. Everything is planned through, rational. He had to push these kids hard if they wanted to stand a chance. He may be brutal, but he only does what’s necessary.

Maybe it helps him to accept his best friends death. That it wasn’t his fault, that he does the right thing. To move on and improve. He always thought he was good at that, being calm and collected and such. If only he’d stop holding himself back.

You’d never find someone like Shirakumo again in your life, that’s what Aizawa always thought. Still, there is one person hitting too close to home. He hated that. How could he let go of this terrible accident when there was such a perfect copy of Shirakumo constantly in his business. He didn’t want to see that all too similar smile, the rare cloud like hair he’s never seen before, or the bubbly personality that could always lighten the mood.

It hurts to think about.

When he was still in High School, she was a lot smaller. He hadn’t seen her often back then. Only a few times when he visited Shirakumo, but of course he knew his little sister. Family was always important to Shirakumo, something Aizawa could never fully understand. He didn’t hate his family, but he didn’t value it as much.

She was 4, maybe even 5 years younger. He didn’t really care about her back then. After Shirakumo’s passing he only saw her at the funeral and then luckily he didn’t have to face his dead friends family anymore. It made him so terrible guilty.

The next time was years later. She was in her last year of High School when he faced her again. If he was honest, he had forgotten about her but seeing how she had grown up to look like her big brother, of course he recognized her. It was more surprising that she remembered him too.

She seemed happy to see him again. It made him uncomfortable. He’d run into her more than often during patrol. She’d always come up to him and talk. It seemed like she wanted to get closer to him, for the wrong intentions, he quickly realized. He would never dare to even think about Shirakumo’s sister like that, and she was still in High School. So he pushed her away.

When he was still in High School, before the accident, Shirakumo told him that his sister seemed to have a tiny crush on him. He barely interacted or talked to her, he thought Shirakumo was ridiculous.

Well, after all those failed attempts at getting closer, he might’ve been right, a little bit. How embarassing. Despite him pushing her away they still stayed in contact. It wasn’t too bad to have someone who shares the same kind of emptiness. The loss of a loved one.

After her graduation, he barely heard from her, which he was kind of grateful for. She was nice, but she was hung up on her dead brothers friend trying to find comfort. They’d both have to live their life. Move on.

And that was it.

Well, not really. It should’ve stayed at that, because now he was in too deep. She studied medicine. She didn’t take the same path as her brother, for now obvious reasons. If that was her decision or their parents, he had no idea. He was happy for her. Still saving the people. Rescuing the ones in need. Some own kind of heroic.

He didn’t really know until he ran into her after a rough night on patrol. She was training to become a doctor, so she started as a nurse in some hospital in Musutafu. Aizawa was more than suprised to see her walking into the room, fixing him up. She looked rather suprised too. Scolded him to be more careful and then sent him off.

Somehow luck wasn’t on his side the following weeks, maybe even months. The villain rate increased rapidly so he had no choice than to come into the hospital more often than not. He’d rather fix up himself, if the wounds were easy to take care of. At some point she was getting tired of fixing him up, but still did it.

She is the spitting image of her brother, just more feminine and he hates it. He wants to hate it. But it gives him closure somehow. He was selfish, and he knew. They started to see each other outside of the hospital too, what a suprise. When she starts her morning shift, he ends his patrol, so sometimes one of them bought coffee since they were in the same area. Just a quick exchange and then they’d go off to do their job. Or sleep.

At some point she gave him her number and threatened him if he wouldn’t call when he was hurt and she was off duty. If it was still an attempt to get more of him, he wasn’t sure. Maybe it’s just her being herself, it is how she acts around other people too. Always friendly and trying to help.

And then the day came where he actually had to call her. He dreaded that day because it meant there were more boundaries crossed than he was comfortable with. But she insisted. He had to. For them.

It happened more often that he would end in her apartment, getting stitched up in her bathroom. That was okay. Friends helping friends.

Shirakumo’s death date came closer. The mood was always sour during this time. His birthday too. He wasn’t the best at coping. He’d just sit in his empty apartment staring at the floor, maybe visit the graveyard if he didn’t feel like a complete failure. Yamada himself said he was always an ass to be around during that time.

Not his fault Yamada is better with emotions than him.

It was around one week before the day. He felt so alone, which he would normally prefer, but this was different. Maybe he could see her, they’re so much alike, it would help him. He was certain. So he called.

He was in her apartment again, this time on the couch rather than the bathroom. She sat down beside him and no one said nothing for quite a while.

“Why did you call? Normally I only see you to fix you up.”

“…I miss him.”

“oh.”

She got up and quickly came back with a bottle of some liquor and two glasses. He doesn’t remember what liquor.

“I didn’t know this was gonna be a shit show today..”

“M’sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

It should’ve stayed at that but he had to push, push for answers. She reminds him so much of him, it hurts. Always fixing him up, puttin him back together and listening to him sulking about Shirakumo even though he was her brother and not his.

“Why are you doing all this.”

“What… Oh Aizawa, I always found you admirable. You don’t give yourself enough credit. I know you don’t seem to be too fond of me, and I totally understand. I’m doing this more for myself, as selfish as that is.”

‘We both.’ he tought. He hated himself for sitting in this apartment. He should be the mature one. Two ‘adults’ sitting on a couch together and sulking for apparently two different reasons.

‘This is getting too much. I can’t do this.’

He doesn’t remember how long he’d been sitting there. The atmosphere was tense, and he could feel himself heating up from the liquor.

She broke the silence first. “Would you say something?” she sounded so desperate. He was desperate too, for closure. He needed something even if he didn’t want it. It was totally his mistake. Totally.

How could he end up in her bed that night. Something to add on the list on regrets.

He couldn’t fuck up more. His best friends little sister, his dead best friends little sister. He should be ashamed. She lies there, hoping for more than just a night of..whatever.

How could he do something like this to Shirakumo. He promised to keep away from her, tell no one about this, apologize- Hell, anything just so this never happened.

Somehow, he always found his way back. His mood only worsened from time to time because he said it’s enough one too many times. He patrols, passing her apartment building, and somehow, he rings the doorbell. Every. Single. Time. Of course she opens, and he’s all over her again just to quickly disappear the next morning.

He ends up hurt, and despite his better judgement goes to her apartment to get fixed up. He may take his shirt off so he can get treated, but hers is next. And every single time he tells himself: ‘Next time, I fix myself up.’

Somehow that never happens.

Then he starts to call her to come to his apartment when he’s having a hard time. But the difference is, he can’t run away. She happily stays in his apartment cooking breakfast before leaving around noon. It makes him uncomfortable.

She thinks of this as more, than just finding comfort. Maybe she doesn’t see why he is doing it and how he regrets it every time. She wanted this for what, years? She seems much happier. He isn’t a person to talk about feelings. He made it clear enough that they are not a couple or anything close to that.

And she’s aware. But there’s hope. That he gets attached to her. He reaches out so of course he wants to see her. She thinks of them more as friends but less than a couple while he thinks it’s clearly a mistake he can’t stop making.

She has some sort of sense to know it’s wrong. When they hastily pull of their clothes, he always sees that she’s pushing the picture of her and Shirakumo down, so he can’t see. It’s on a shelf right at the front door. And even if they go to her bedroom, the frame comes down every time he visits, cause he shouldn’t see.

And when she catches him before he can sneak off, she brings him to the door, where she pulls the picture up again. And there’s always this hopeful look everytime he leaves. He hates it.

He wants to hate it. He wants this misery to end. They won’t ever be together and he knows, she doesn’t. She wouldn’t understand. Because the worst is, she’s pretty yes, but she has so much resemblance with him. When she lays on her bed, he just buries his face in her neck or really anywhere, so he doesn’t have to face that hair, that look. He just can’t.

He doesn’t think she’s noticed yet. She seems quite happy with their arrangement.

It goes on for years.

——————————————————————

hello! i’m back with the aizawa brain rot😔

so i’ve been working on this as a longer story but i had to start somewhere… would y’all wanna see more?

if yes, be prepared for angst😝

song “chihiro” by billie eilish

[thecloudstan]

(Prt. 6) Came back after a few hours and saw your post. Enjoy your weed. XD I hope it's okay if I continue my ramblings (kinda forgot where I left off). Anyhow, one of the things that also really struck me about AC was showcasing the similarities and differences between Rufus and Cloud. They're strong, intelligent, and proud men that went through a lot after Meteorfall with geostigma and suffered a lot because of it. Rufus regrets his past actions and is always looking towards the future by AC.

In contrast, Cloud is stuck in the past and suffering from depression, unable to move forward due to his regrets. While Rufus is determined to stay alive while throwing off Kadaj in AC, Cloud has resigned himself to death. It takes a combination of Aerith, Tifa, Marlene, and even Vincent to finally push him forward to take action after avoiding everyone for so long. Cloud's and Rufus's respective struggles in AC are foils to each other, while serving as the biggest obstacles to Kadaj.

As mentioned before, I thought it interesting to be that in AC, Rufus was the person Cloud used as an excuse to run from his issues that led me thinking about their dynamic and characterizations. It made realize (and later confirmed in the Ultimania Omega) that at the end of the day, Rufus and Cloud never truly hated each other, even back in the OG. Sure, Rufus was a total cliché villain in the OG, but it had more to due with differing goals and philosophies that Rufus did grew out of.

I think I'd mentioned this briefly in one of my previous posts, but I really like that Rufus can understand Cloud enough to try and draw him into a partnership with honeyed words, which almost worked if not for Reno's mouth (lol), and Cloud knows Rufus enough that he isn't telling him the whole truth and calls him out on it. Honestly, their blunt interactions were so REFRESHING to see because they can say what's on their minds without tiptoeing around each other in AC.

And it's precisely because of that bluntness between them, as well as their similarities/differences, is what I think Rufus and Cloud would actually make a good couple. I know it'll never happen and it's just an overall opinion, but I don't think what Cloud needs people is always coddling him and not being able to speak their minds until something bad happens. Same thing with Rufus because he doesn't need a yes-men enabling his bad decisions/habits.

I'll end it here because it's past midnight in my timezone, but here have two strong, prideful men who hide their insecurities and loneliness though stoicism and going through severe inferiority-superiority complexes through the FFVII titles. It's a dynamic that works because they see each other as equals and worthy opponents and good allies. I strongly believe they complement each other as a result all of that and can find solace and a tender intimacy if they overcome their issues.

My response under the cut:

Yes yes yes, exactly this stuff. The distinct scene between Cloud and Vincent, specifically, about Vincent having never tried to forgive himself...I'm sure Cloud has this moment where he feels he's looking into his future if he doesn't shape up. It really is this whole story about how everyone around him is acting, and he's frightened into paralysis again. It's understandable, because Remake/Rebirth Cloud aside...he's fucking terrified of himself in the original. He did some horrible things (because of the Jenova/Seph influence), and then failed to do some very heroic things (by his own definition, at least). But the reality had to strike him, eventually, that...even fucking Shinra is trying to figure out what Geostigma is and how to stop it. Like...this is the new world. The Planet hasn't rejected them, it's just still getting FUCKED by Jenova. It was interesting and, ultimately, necessary character development for the Turks and Shinra Co. to evolve. It would make Rufus seem kind of like a short-sighted moron if the world practically ended because of the empire his father built, and then...he just repeats the same actions??? Nah. It wouldn't make sense and it would make them all really flat, I think. They would kinda cease to be characters and remain plot devices for Cloud's story. Which they definitely aren't!!

I don't want to give Cloud's friends too much shit. They have the very difficult task of getting that boy off his ass and out of his head. They're constantly relying on him, pushing him to Do Stuff, and I can see from his perspective how that would just be so crushing and anxiety inducing at times. Which honestly makes it that much more tantalizing that Rufus lured him in the way he did...with sugary speech and a yes/no proposition (as opposed to a guilt-trip, lbr).

I think in Cloud's case it's a lot more complex than simple coddling, but I know what you mean. I think Shinra Sr. had more of a 'yes-men' problem than Rufus, at least inasmuch his people never even TRIED to stop him from doing LITERALLY everything he wanted. I suspect the Turks could speak to Rufus more plainly than any of Shinra Sr.'s lackeys could speak to him (hence the dressing down Rufus gives them about dropping the plate in Rebirth). Or, maybe the Turks would just complain to Tseng and make Tseng go talk to Rufus XD idk.

At any rate, I do mostly agree with you, I just can never go so far as to say who would be the 'best' for one another (I really do think all characters have different interesting dynamics to bring to the table and I love too many different ships). But I respect your analysis and I ship tf out of them so I wouldn't be anything other than tickled by them being together in some capacity. I'd love for my poor country boy to have a wealthy bf who can pay off his student loans (wait...)

And I'm really happy you felt this was a safe space to share all this because fandom really needs that! I'm flattered. I hope people continue to feel that way. I'll be honest about my feelings but I'm never here to judge anyone. 💞

[burning-fcols]

"Fuck you asshole! I opened up to you! I trusted you! You knew how much that shit would hurt me but you went and did it anyway! Go to double hell!" husk @ angeI for break up verse -  ✩   「 @helluvaxhazbin 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」 Every. Damn. Time... Every time Angel thinks they're getting somewhat close to a reconciliation— even if they can't risk going back to how they used to be, they can still not want to rip each other's throats out —it ends up like this. Screaming their lungs out, spewing vile at one another. Lies and truths intermingled so intensely it's difficult to figure out which is which. Hatred and love and anguish an uncontrollable fire burning within his gut, threatening to incinerate him like all the stories of Hell insisted would happen. Frankly, he'd rather that than this.

Angel knows he messed up. He handled things horribly between them... had hurt Husk in a clumsy effort to keep him SAFE. Yet he can't entirely regret his decision. Only how it had happened. He was nothing but bad news for the feline... A pretty bit of poison that was going to get Husk killed in he continued to indulge. Angel never has been one to openly feel sorry for himself. Always submitted to someone else's will, pulled along like a puppet, he's careful never to show how much the strings dig into his skin. How every faux choice makes him feel less and less alive... But this time, having played the unknown martyr instead of the self-preserving asshole—

Is it really so bad for him to want Husk to accept WHY he did it?

No. Husk can't know. Who knows what the idiotic feline might suggest if he was aware Val was the reason Angel didn't want to be with him anymore. He's too loyal. Too hard-headed. He might not see the situation as clearly as the spider does. Better he thinks Angel came to the conclusion on his own... and merely regrets how it had tumbled out of him. Even if that makes apologies ring hollow even to Angel's ears.

❝ SHUT UP! JUST SHUT TH' FUCK UP!! ❞ Voice breaks, throat aching from more than being overworked in the studio. Fists clenched in front of him, claws dig into shaky palms. Entire form trembling, tears pool in his eyes, feeling hot as his boiling blood as they drip down a reddened face, ❝ I said I was sorry! How many times do I have ta keep sayin' it 'til ya get it through yer thick skull?! I hurt you! I KNOW I hurt you! An' I fuckin' HATE myself for it, alright?! An' if I could do it again, I would'a handled things diff'rent! But I CAN'T! I can't fix th' shitty thing I've done! ❞

Raising his gaze, desperation still overwhelms the glossy hues despite the indignant fire alongside it, ❝ I get why ya hate me, I DO. But I also can't fuckin' stand it... I-I can't... I can't keep doin' this. ❞ Voice loses it's edge the longer he speaks, clenched fists reluctantly falling to his sides. Tense posture loosening in defeat, wide eyes take in Husk as if actually watching him die. But at least Husk is only leaving his life instead of— ... It still hurts. More than anything that's happened so far.

❝ It hurts too much... Ev'rytime I'm around you, I— I feel like I'm dyin' all ova' again. There's esctasy an'— an' escape... an' it's ev'rythin' I eva' wanted. But then reality sinks in. An' I rememba' where I am an' WHO I am an' all the fucked up shit I did an' that you fuckin' hate me an'— an' it's not an escape at all. I don' WANT this. I don' want ta feel this way. ❞ I didn't want to DIE. ❝ An' I know you don' eitha'. ❞ That's why one of them has to stop this. ONE of them has to get clean, before they both overdose on whatever twisted relationship they've gotten hooked on now.

❝ I love ya, Husk. ❞ He mutters without looking at the other man, sweet words bitter on his tongue. Wiping at his eyes with an arm, it does nothing to stop the barrage of tears, ❝ An' I didn' go through all this shit ta keep ya safe, only ta make yer life a Double Hell... ❞ Emotions clouding his judgement and forcing his words, Angel doesn't notice his slip of the tongue. ❝ So, fine. I'll fuck off an' leave ya alone... Fer good now. ❞ No more hate-fucking. No more forgetting in the moment. No more playing pretend in the softness of the afterglow. No more clinging to the rare moments when things are unexpectedly soft the entire way through...

No more hopes lifted when things are soft even WITHOUT sex, only for them to come crashing back down when reality shows itself again. 「 ☆ 」

[cosmonaughty]

The Lucky Ones. chapter 18

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Vincent didn’t attend his graduation ceremony, and he was fine with that. He didn’t want to pay for a cap and gown and cross the stage for the benefit of no one in particular. He had briefly considered inviting Travis, but by the time he got the invitation it would likely be too late, so instead he resolved to write and tell him about the decision later that summer. In any case, he got his diploma, which was all that mattered. That, and never having to set foot past the doors of that school ever again. 

He had also foregone going to prom, and that he did regret. Not that he was interested in renting a tuxedo and standing against the wall all night, but after hearing about what had transpired, he found himself wishing he had been there. The story going through the halls on Monday was as follows:

Everybody knew that Rebecca White would be Prom Queen. Even the people who hated her had still voted for her; to do anything else would be as futile as trying to hold back the tide. When she took to the stage to be crowned, she looked like an angel, surrounded in a shimmering cloud of powder blue taffeta. Her flaming halo of hair was styled in such a way as to perfectly accommodate a tiara, although she still made an effort to act surprised when her name was announced.  

Upon being crowned, she beamed and waved at the crowd with a delicate, practiced turn of her wrist. Suddenly, her smile faded to a confused grimace and she emitted a wet choking sound from the back of her throat. Steve Brent, who was standing beside her awaiting his own crown, turned to ask if she was alright, but before the words had a chance to form, a torrent of blood suddenly gushed from Rebecca’s nose. In a panic, her hands flew to her face to stop the flood. The sight of her once white opera gloves, now saturated in scarlet, elicited horrified gasps, and a few uneasy chuckles, from her gathered classmates. Brandy screamed for someone to call an ambulance as Rebecca fled the spotlight in tears with a dark stain spreading down the front of her gown.

“It was nuts,” Steve told Vincent as he recounted the incident in second period. “It was like that movie with the elevator doors opening up. Just blood gushing everywhere like -fwhoosh-!”

Following her undignified exit, Rebecca was taken to Alchemilla where - depending on whose version of the story you heard - the bleeding either stopped immediately, or didn’t let up until she had passed out. Curiously, no tests had been able to determine a cause of the hemorrhage. By every medical standard, she was perfectly fine, besides being a little anemic following the incident. Vincent had spotted her in the hall later the following Monday and noticed how pale she looked, though he couldn’t tell if it was a result of blood loss or pure mortification. Either way, he couldn’t find it in himself to feel sorry for her.

“If it’d happened to anyone else, she would make sure they never forgot it.” He told Claudia that afternoon. The two of them were sitting on the hood of his car, taking in the warmth of early summer. “I just wish I’d have been there to see it.” He sighed, shaking his head. “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer person, huh?” When he looked toward Claudia to see if she was sharing in his schadenfreude, he was puzzled to see her expression as still and cold as a slab of marble. He nudged her. “It’s okay to feel good when bad things happen to bad people. Divine justice, right?”

“Maybe…” Claudia answered quietly, nodding and adding. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” 

“After all the hell she’s put you through, it’s only fair that you should be the one laughing, for a change.” Claudia offered a thin smile, but didn’t laugh. “Unbelievable,” He groaned. “You are the embodiment of grace, that’s for sure. Still, I bet you won’t miss her next year. Sure, some of her lackeys will still be around, but without her and Brandy, it’ll be a lot smoother sailing, right?” 

“Well, maybe…” She drew her knees up to her chest and rested her head on them. “But I don’t know…I don’t think I want to go next year.”

“What?” Vincent’s tone was sharper than he’d intended, but he hadn’t expected to hear such a confession from her. “Why not?”

“It’s just…not doing me any good and I’m not doing any good there. I’d rather focus on the church, like you said I should.”

“That is not what I meant.” He insisted. “I never said you should drop out of school, that’s something-” He halted as blunt realization struck him and he fought to calm the sudden anger he felt sear through his chest. “Was this Leonard’s idea?”

She lifted her head and glowered at him the way she always did when he referred to her father by his first name. It was disrespectful, she’d told him, which was the point, of course. He had never seen her father as someone who was owed respect, even Leonard himself knew that, and no doubt hated him for it. 

“Well, it’s true.” She argued. “It’s of no use to me. My place is, and always will be, in the church.”

“Don’t say that.” He pleaded. “Don’t give in to what he tells you. You don’t just exist to serve. Don’t you want to be smart?”

“I am smart.” She snapped, suddenly moving away from him. For a second, she looked like she was considering getting off of the car entirely, but she stopped short. “I am smart,” She repeated. “I do read. I do study. But I’m not like you, I don’t want to go to college and learn about things like statistics and finance and other things that don’t matter.”

“Don’t matter-?” he began incredulously but was interrupted by her weary sigh.

“To me, I mean. They don’t matter to me. That kind of thing is wasted on me, that’s not where my talents are and you know it. You said I don’t need to serve, but I want to. I want to serve God and help my people. I know there’s more I can do, but all the excess keeps getting in my way. I just need to focus.”

She looked to Vincent for a response, but his head was bowed, gaze averted and unmoving. With a defeated sigh, she began to slide down off the hood of the car, but was stopped by his hand on her arm.

“Okay,” He said finally. “It’s your call.”

“It is…” She agreed cautiously, waiting to see if there would be a caveat. 

“I trust your call.” He nodded. 

“You do.” Although her tone was flat and disbelieving, the corner of her lips quirked up ever so slightly. “Is that right?”

“Uh huh,” The hand on her arm guided her back to his side. “I like it when you stand up for yourself, it’s sexy.”

She rolled her eyes but her amused smirk didn’t disappear entirely.

“Ah, there it is.”

“What? It’s a compliment.” She never took him seriously when he complimented her. Add that to the list of things he could blame Leonard for. Or was it Rebecca’s fault? If he were to guess, it was likely a mix of both. It certainly wasn’t pop culture’s doing, as it was with most girls her age. Claudia was adamant about never watching tv and if she had ever seen a movie, he wasn’t aware of it. 

“And what a compliment it is.” She answered dryly, shielding her eyes with one hand to look out at the lake. “Will you be back by May? Next year, I mean.”

“Uh,” He released her arm so he could take his glasses off and inspect the lenses. “I don’t know…I guess it depends on my schedule, you know? I might have final exams around that time.”

“Hm…” 

“But I’ll be back during the summer,” He added quickly, hoping to fend off the melancholy that came over her so easily. “Surely, whatever you have planned can wait another month, right?”

“I have nothing planned. I just wanted to know if you’ll be here.”

“I’ll be here for Summer Solstice; that’ll be fun.”

“Yes…”

“And…” He added, putting his glasses back on and wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “We still have this summer to look forward to. Since this is the last year of high school for both of us, I think we ought to do something to celebrate that fact.”

“Oh? And what did you have in mind?” Her tone suggested that she was expecting something specific. He’d noticed the same tone before, becoming ever more frequent during their conversations, as though she was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. It made him wonder what on Earth she was thinking. Although, that was nothing new with her.

“I don’t know yet.” He admitted. There wasn’t a lot in town for a couple of kids with no money; all of the attractions were geared toward tourists and vacationers, few though they may have been. “But I’ll think of something.”

“We can meet here by the lake to figure it out, maybe? Like we used to?” 

The suggestion caught him off guard; usually, he was the one to bring up the possibility of her sneaking out and usually he would have to work hard to persuade her. Most likely, she wanted to beat him to the punch before he could suggest meeting at his house. Visiting during the day was one thing, but sneaking out at night to be alone with him within the confines of four walls was too scandalous for her modest taste. 

Well, there went that idea. Still, it was hard to feel too burnt about it; the idea of meeting at the lake, like they had done for years, hurt him in a way that he didn’t expect, but with the pain came a sweet sense of vitality, filling him the way the taste of blood had filed his mouth the first time he’d been hit. A smile formed on his lips, gradually lighting up his face like the rising sun.

“That’s perfect.”

Late that night, when she was certain her father was asleep, Claudia slipped out of her bed and climbed into her wardrobe, pulling the doors softly shut behind her. For a moment, she sat in the still darkness; the closeness and the smell of old, dry wood reminded her of the confessional booth at church, although between the two, she preferred her wardrobe. There at least, her secrets were kept solely between herself and the pages of her diary.

In the dark, her hand traveled along the back of the closet until it found where the panel was loose. She carefully moved the loose slat aside, reaching into the hidden space behind it and withdrawing her journal and a dim penlight, which she held in her mouth to illuminate the page as she wrote:

Dearest Alessa,

One of the girls who has been so cruel to me had a strange accident befall her. She was humiliated in front of everyone at the dance last week when she began bleeding uncontrollably and had to go to the hospital. Vincent says that it’s Divine justice, though I’m not sure he believes it. I may believe as much, but I can’t escape the feeling that I’m somehow the cause.

He is right: it was well-deserved. I’ve found myself wishing, even praying, many times that she would face some manner of consequence for her hateful behavior. For her to “get hers”, as Vincent says. I haven’t told him anything of my suspicion, I’m sure he would tell me it’s a coincidence, and I realize that such things happen, but somehow I know I caused it. There’s no other way to explain, but I know that if anyone would understand, it would be you, Alessa.

I have decided not to return for the final two years of school. I told Vincent that I would simply prefer to focus on my service to God and the church, and that is true, but there is another reason I can’t go back.

I’m not as strong as you are. If such a thing were to happen again, or if anyone were to know what I did to Rebecca, I’m afraid they would call me a witch. I know you’ve endured that, and far worse, but I couldn’t bear it, especially not without you here to be my comfort. And if Father were to know, what then? Would he hate me for it? Fear me? Would he tell others at the church? I know he doesn’t like it when I mention the revelations I have; I’m certain he would not approve.

Of course, Vincent doesn’t want me to drop out of school, but I don’t see what right he has to be upset with me when he’s the one who’s leaving. He says he’ll be back, but I know how much he wants to run. I can’t see what there is out there that he thinks is so much better than here, I don’t even think he knows. In that sense, maybe going to college will be for the best, maybe he’ll realize how foolish he is to want to leave. Or maybe it will just add fuel to his wanderlust; I can only pray he sees the error of his ways.

He's gone a little bit easier on me lately (speaking of lust reminded me), perhaps because he’s had so much weighing on his mind, but I’m afraid with summer coming and him determined that we should see the most of each other before he goes away, he’ll soon be back to his wicked ways. I imagine it would just be easiest to let him have me, but what then? Knowing everything there is to know about me, would he still want me? And I’ve yet to find out if I want him. I know I shouldn’t, but I think I must. It’s impossible to know for sure, my mind is constantly in flux. Sometimes I wish he would just decide for me- on one of those afternoons when we’re together in his car or on a late night by the lake- and then I detest myself for having such an unkind thought. Unkind to desire such a terrible thing for myself, and unkind to imagine even for a moment that he would be capable of it.

It seems I’ve become quite good at holding two thoughts in my mind at once. I can tell this is going to be a very long summer, but I also feel that it will be over before I even know it’s here. How many people will drown in the lake this year? I think it will be thirty-seven.

[asforthesoundtrack]

highlights from the dan and phil stereo show - 12.29.2020 ✨✨

we broke the app the MINUTE the show was about to start

SO MUCH ECHO OH MY GOD

phil got dan a bear sweater for christmas!!! it’s mostly black and white with a little yellow bear in the corner!! so dan can have some color in his life!!!

dan got phil a box of retro sweets and bath pearls for christmas and introduced it by saying “this is how well i know phil” AS IF WE DIDN’T ALREADY KNOW

dan listens to phil’s random ranting

a lot of the early messages just said “i missed you!” and they kept joking about us missing phil and dan said “if you miss me, be specific or i’m gonna assume you’re excluding me okay” and god i missed him dragging us so MUCH you don’t even KNOW

viewers pick my outfits 2 chat!!!

dan: i think you weren’t fair to yourself because you’ve had a style glowup” 🥺🥺🥺🥺

i think dan said his favorite outfit was the one with the cloud jumper?? but the app was cutting out a lot for me there sorry jkfslekgh

edit: ok nvm it was the one with the purple pants! (@ dnp pls be more coherent i am begging you)

THEY TRIED TO FIX THE ECHO BUT IT JUST GOT SO MUCH WORSE

i think they eventually fixed it by disconnecting dan’s headphones or something which resulted in the quote “we’re both coming out of phil’s mouth......... on stereo”

they joked about phil hitting on the tesco guy--phil said he recognized the guy from somewhere and NO JOKE, the guy goes “it’s probably because of the adult movies i’m in” ONLY THEM I SWEAR

THEY BOUGHT A HOUSE!!!!!!! it’s a new build that they’ve spent the past 3 YEARS working on!!! they didn’t design the outside but they designed the entire inside themselves!!!

THE FOREVER HOME IS HAPPENING!!!!!!!

but of course moving has been delayed all year bc of covid

they clearly stated that they won’t be doing a house tour (valid, not something i ever expected anyway)

they’ll both be sad to say goodbye to steve and scraggy 🥺🥺🥺

“if you’re missing steve, why don’t you get yourself a dog”-- DOG TALK DOG TALK DOG TALK!!!!!!!!

their camera shut off right when the dog talk started happening and i’m still laughing my entire ass off

they ALMOST had the opportunity to get a dog because they were going to be part of a charity dog adopting tv show but they couldn’t because the house wasn’t ready yet 😭😭😭😭😭

DAPG TALK!!!!!

basically, they haven’t made a full decision on the future of dapg but future joint content is basically an inevitability DO YOU HEAR ME SCREAMING

dan said they paused the gaming channel so he can sort his shit out, he’s still in that pausing period but he appreciates how much we miss him

they talked about the dan photo from september (you know the one) and dan’s attitude interview and told a funny story about how dan’s boot got really stuck as he was trying to put it on but i honestly don’t remember most of this bc of the previous emotional whiplash i’m so sorry y’all

oh yeah phil said something about lubing up dan’s foot during the boot story and i just kjflsjlfsgjlghslgh

dan joked about a “dan ass reveal” and just wow i really missed jokey dan alright

phil pitched both a sci fi show and a game show!!!! but they fell through :(((

dan fixed up dan’s hair after phil tried cutting his own hair 🥺🥺🥺

“in the dan and phil house, we’re very versed in the pasta section of food” 🥺🥺🥺🥺

they did joint yoga and there was a point where a really sad song came on in their mix and it made them both cry :(((((

they talked a bit about what dan’s been up to over his long break!!! (according to phil, he’s been “stressed but inspired”)

dan is working on 3 things: the book, something that got delayed by covid and something that can’t happen until a bunch of people can come together (book tour???)

the book was supposed to be the last thing dan did but now it’s the first thing??

phil was the first person to read dan’s book!!! his review: it’s rubbish! (jokingly, of course slfjslgh)

there’s been moments where phil brought dan tea while he’s been in his writing zone 🥺🥺🥺🥺

they talked about tabinof/tatinof for a second :((((

phil wants to spoil what dan’s working on so bad!!! but he’s refraining for now 🥺🥺🥺

they talked a bit about dan’s book and phil was really supportive, he thinks it will help people and it helped him learn some things that could help him and he learned a bit about dan too!!! he thinks it’s a very exciting time and he’s hyped for dan

dan: next year may be very exciting

dan is very appreciative of all our support and thanked us all for being here over the years. “we would have nothing if it weren’t for you. so, i appreciate you and i love you.” 🥰🥰🥰

dan:  is this the stereo exclusive segment phil in the blanks! WOW!!!

dan: do you think that since coming out of the closet, it has increased the likelihood that we’re gonna degenerate into filth, or that it’s just our natural tendency to kind of ruin any innocent moment by being weird”

phil feels more open now!!! he doesn’t have to hold back the gay!!!

dan: if a gay person dyes their hair, they are a visibly spiraling crisis twink

phil: i want to be a crisis twink!

dan does not want to dye his hair because he thinks it’ll make it clear that he’s going through something but phil says maybe he’ll dye his hair (LMAO)

baking video chat 🥺🥺🥺 (nothing we haven’t heard before but i’m soft anyway)

their siri went off to tell them their camera was turning off, phil: siri loves me and hates you

dan: how many shrimp do you have to eat, phil: before you turn pink! (I MISSED THEIR LITTLE SONGS SO MUCH SHUT UPPPP)

dan: we spent more time discussing the intricacies of flamingos than where the fuck i’ve been for the last year and a half--AKSJEFLSKHG

dan: i’d like to do a 17 and a half hour stage show, that’s why i uploaded an obnoxiously long coming out experience

one of the last phil in the blanks was LEGIT bdsm (this is the content the 18+ app was for) and phil told a story of how when they were house hunting, they toured a house with a 50 shades of grey room SKJFLSDHGKLSJLGH

harry styles was the nicest of the 1d boys to phil upon leaving the interview, he said “thanks, that was really fun. i had a good time” 🥺🥺🥺🥺

only one band that they interviewed was rude to them

little mix was the nicest band that they interviewed, according to phil!!!

dan, singsongy: phil,,,, he put himself in the blank and the blank is full of phil! yEAHHHHHH

dan, normally: and now we both simultaneously get banned from stereo. everyone regrets that they heard or saw dan. they want him to do another 7 mysterious projects he can’t talk about, but take another 17 years so he can just go away and be quiet. hey dan, you’re going on this journey to work out who you are and free yourself from the shackles of your past so you can live healthy and happily in the future. STOP SAYING WEIRD STUFF!!!! (PLS I MISSED SARCASTIC DAN SO MUCH)

dan: i just wanna say, as this whole thing comes to an end: thank you for having me, phil. thank you for watching, person at home. it’s been a year. hopefully the people who are commenting “WHO’S WATCHING THIS IN 2079!!!!!!” will go “wow, that was weird” but we all got through it and life became new and exciting. was dan ever alive? i guess we’ll find out.

dan, in a weird goose voice: bye! i loved you all! have a nice evening! (look i just missed this goofiness so much okay)

they were so flirty??? and we got so many gay jokes????

but most importantly, they were both so happy and excited to chat with us, dan especially

this was genuinely the highlight of my entire year. it was SO well worth the 2 year wait, their bants are just the same as they always are and we know how happy they are together. the future is so so bright and i, for one, have never been more grateful. thank you dnp. i think we all needed that more than you will ever know. 🥺🥺🥺

[midnightsconspiracy]

Decisions

Decisions - @midnightsconspiracy

Summary: Years after your all discharged from the Rangers you all reunite, some in better ways than others

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1109

Requested: Yes!

'What about something where mouse has a secret girlfriend and one day jay walks into his apartment to see her and mouse lying in bed together only to find out it’s someone from when she, mouse and jay used to be in the rangers together.'

A/N: This fic's not perfect by any means, it doesn't really have a storyline but thought id write a few of the request in my inbox

Jay knew something was up with Mouse the second the changes began. It wasn't a bad thing though, nothing like what had happened when Jay had found out Mouse was planning to go back into Rangers, instead it seemed like things were getting better for the man. He'd become more sociable of an evening, choosing to finally spend time out with the rest of the team when invited instead of staying home alone after work. Jay had also noticed a shift in his personality, gone was the flighty man whose life was overruled by the trauma of the past, and instead was replaced by a whole new version of himself, one that could be compared to when he had first met him. A man that you had known all too well.

You'd first met the boys in the Rangers and after the first day of training, the three of you had become rather unlikely friends. Although you were all bought together in order to grow into a fully-fledged team, most of the time cliques were formed, one where women were not usually involved. And so to your surprise, when they approached you to make friends, you accepted gratefully, not knowing when the next opportunity for friends would arise.

And so your relationship with them both bloomed from there, becoming thick as thieves throughout training, continuing on during your deployment in Afghanistan. But as great as it was at its peak, something had to give. Just days before the fatal accident, you had been honourable discharged over issues regarding your injured arm, having to sadly say goodbye to those who you'd spent time with, served with. And although they knew it wasn't your fault, they felt some sort of resentment toward you, angry that you would be leaving. None of it was directly aimed at you, only the fact that they wouldn't be seeing you, fighting with you anymore. And the animosity between you all meant that the friendship you once had was destroyed in under a day, leaving you hopeless, all alone working out what you would do now that you had been discharged.

Not only had your relationship with them deteriorated, the one between Jay and his best friend Mouse had been severed also, the traumatic accident they had suffered causing them to lose contact. It wasn't as if they hated each other, quite the opposite, but their own PTSD isolated themselves from the rest of the world, leaving only bad thoughts to cloud their minds. Luckily for them, that all seemed to change within the year, Jay picking himself up from his slump, starting back up into the real world once again with Mouse following in his footsteps soon after. They had completely turned their lives around, not allowing the trauma to consume them, and you thankfully hadn't fallen victim to it either.

Your life since discharge had been rocky also, to say the least, with bouts of severe anxiety and depression frequently overtaking your mind. But you'd worked hard to pull yourself out from that dark place, making lifestyle changes, going to therapy, anything you thought would do you some good. Everything in your life was good, nothing seemed to be missing until you just so happened to bump into someone that had proved you otherwise.

Mouse had simply been walking down the street to get a cup of coffee when he got rudely bumped into to, or so he thought. Gaining his balance back he looked forward in order to see the culprit, coming face to face with the person he regretted losing touch with the most.

"Y/N?" he had asked, not knowing what the simple interaction would lead to.

Little did both of you know, that a chance encounter would lead to a fully-fledged relationship, well in all ways but one, telling people. It wasn't that either of you were ashamed of the other, the opposite actually, you were just so far into your perfect little bubble, that neither of you were prepared to pop it. Well, that was your reason anyways. Mouse felt that way for the most part, except the fact he'd failed to mention his revived relationship with Jay. The one time you'd chatted about the past he'd brushed over that subject, moving onto anything else without raising suspicion. He felt guilty about it all, knowing how many times his friend had confided in him about his crush on the girl, and despite knowing that he still pursued her regardless. But this was his life and she had come onto him, so what was he meant to do, ignore the feelings he'd developed in the time they'd spent together? He knew Jay would probably be understanding of the situation but their friendship had only just been revived, would he really want to ruin it now? But he had to make a choice, did he chance ruining his friendship with Jay or would he break up with the girl of his dreams for an outcome that might not even happen? The question weighed on his mind, every possible outcome playing in his head leading him to and from different results. It was all becoming too much for him after a week of indecisiveness, the people around him noticing a sudden negative change in him also.

Reaching home he glumly opened the door, shuffling forward to the couch for an evening of feeling sorry for himself. Before he could though, you popped your head out of his bedroom, hoping to surprise your boyfriend after his long day behind a computer screen. But hearing his tired sigh, your smile dropped, walking towards his tired frame to finally see what had been plaguing his mind the whole week.

"What's wrong Mouse?" you asked softly, lacing your arms around his sitting figure.

"It's nothing important," he replied standing up to head towards you, picking you up, walking into the bedroom for an evening of forgetting his sorrows.

So caught up in his thoughts that day, Mouse had completely forgotten about his plans with Jay, the two men organising to watch the game together at his apartment. Arriving at his friend's place, he casually let himself in, the two men having a strong enough bond to do so. But at the revelation that Mouse wasn't in his living room, lining up the tv with today's game, he slowly tread throughout the apartments, looking within each of the rooms. Coming up empty he walked towards the bedroom, only pausing outside the room at something that resembled moans. Hesitantly placing his hand on the door handle, he pushed it open, startling the people inside and forcing them to cover-up

"Y/N?".

---------

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[somethingpoetichere]

lovebug- caliban imagine

sup. fic inspired by my favorite song in THE world. not as soft mushy as it may sound I promise caliban is a nice lil sarcastic SHIT with a big ole crush. mild sabrina bashing but its funny in context and I think it’s the way family behaves. reader is a Spellman, not a witch but DOES know about the supernatural/is part of the supernatural world. here with my once in a blue moon post lol. feedback would be appreciated!

called her for the first time yesterday

finally found the missing part of me

felt so close but you were far away

left me without anything to say

Caliban was not an idiot- he knew not to underestimate the Spellman half-witch that had gone and declared herself queen of hell. So he’d taken the liberty of learning everything he could about her, noting her habits and schedule and the people she surrounded herself with.

And then he found you.

You weren’t a witch- at least, he hadn’t found your name in his diligent searching through the Book of the Beast- but you were something. That he was sure of. There was something slightly off about your presence, tinged a little glittery, though not altogether unpleasant.

No, not unpleasant at all, he mused as he watched you make your way towards your car. Tucked into a little yellow sundress, you stood out like a ray of sunshine in the wave of doom-and-gloom that hallmarked high school. The school bell rang out behind you, and Caliban felt his knees go disgustingly weak as you smiled brilliantly at Sabrina through the crowd.

It was a stupid, stupid decision that Caliban would never have made in the right state of mind, but he reasoned that pissing off Sabrina was validation enough to get your attention. He ducked into your path on purpose, taking advantage of your momentary distraction as he gently bumped into you. oops.

You collided with a solid wall, books tumbling out of your hands as strong arms reached out to steady you. You let out a surprised yelp at the collision, peeking up curiously as the wall you’d hit laughed.

Oh, well that was a sight for sore eyes.

The golden haired stranger holding you was, well, gorgeous. Bright blue eyes peered down at you as he grinned, and you felt the whole world shutter around you. You’d definitely been watching too many soap operas with your auntie, but goddamn it if you weren't positively putty.

“Hi there, stranger.” You giggled nervously, and Caliban suddenly remembered he’d had his arms around you for far too long to be acceptable. He reluctantly retreated, feeling something claw a little uncomfortably in his chest.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” He apologized, moving to pick up your books as you bent down to retrieve them. He ran a hand through his hair in barely concealed bashfulness, unsure of why he felt so... unsettled, all of a sudden. 

“It’s alright, my head was in the clouds.” You waved off his apology, accepting the books he offered you with a grateful smile. “Are you new here? I don’t think we’ve met.”

“He’s new here!” Sabrina’s shrill voice interrupted, training her icy glare on Caliban, who fought back a smirk. “This is Caliban- he’s from... Australia! Yeah, down under!”

“Oh, I can show you around tomorrow! I know how scary it can be to be new here.” You patted his arm sympathetically, ignoring Sabrina’s stream of indignant protests. “I was with student council all day. If you’re a senior, we probably have most of the same classes.”

Caliban had shit to do. Caliban had trials to plan and souls to torture. But you were looking at him- all warmth and sunshine, and Sabrina’s look of pure horror only sweetened the deal.

“I’ll see you in class tomorrow then, sunshine.”

so worth it.

now i'm speechless, over the edge

i'm just breathless

i never thought that i'd catch this love bug again

hopeless, head over heels in the moment

i never thought that i'd get hit by this love bug again

Caliban didn't understand why the mortals all bemoaned high school as hell on earth. It certainly wasn't so bad once you got past the wave of body spray and the questionable cafeteria food. In fact, darting to class with a pretty girl beside him was pretty enjoyable, all things considered. 

You’d spent the day introducing him to the other students, passing him silly notes in class, and had even tugged him from the lunch room to hang out with your friends in the library. He learned that you pretty much did it all- student council, cheerleader, top of your class- all while managing to somehow know the name of everyone you passed with a smile in the halls. You were silly and sweet— smart as all hell with a wit that certainly kept the clay prince on his toes.

and he was smitten.

The groan that escaped your painted lips was delightfully sinful as you slumped in the seat beside him in english class. “I hate Romeo and Juliet. How do two people fall in love in a few days anyhow? And Mrs. Willows always makes us reenact the scenes, and it’s so corny.” The blush that colored your cheeks as he looked at you in concern was something he did his best to commit to memory- cheesiness be damned, Caliban was enjoying himself far too much.

Caliban smirked, skimming through the booklet he’d been passed as the teacher droned. The prince of hell had a certain flare for the dramatics, and Sabrina’s glare burning into the back of his head only fueled his antics. He had one scene in mind, and it was the scene that was certain to kill four birds with one stone- totally make you fall in love with him, he would somehow manage to kiss you (that part was a work in progress), piss off Sabrina, and also- piss off Sabrina.

And kiss you. So maybe five parts. Damn it, Caliban was going to have to make a list.

“Partners?” He whispered softly, gently tugging at your hand as the teacher sat back down. Caliban’s eyes were alight with a tinge of mischief that you either failed to notice or were simply amused by- and your answering nod was more than a little bashful. “We can do my favorite scene.”

“If you say the first kiss scene, I’m punching the daylights out of you.” You warned, playfully nudging his knee with your own. “It will be unkind and I will not feel bad.”

“My lady wounds me.” He dramatically rested his hand above his heart. “And we absolutely have to do this scene-” He raised his hand to silence your half-hearted protests- “because Billy told the guys in calculus that he was specifically going to be pissed if we did this scene.”

Okay, so maybe he’d stretched the truth a little bit. But Caliban knew that the mention of your seedy ex-boyfriend (who you’d enlightened him about during lunch) would absolutely get you to agree to the scene. And it wasn't like he’d lied— Billy Marlin’s glare was nearly as icy as Sabrina’s. And, it wasn't like the way Billy looked at you- with something akin to possession in his eyes- totally made Caliban want to fast track the kid to damnation right then and there. Nope.

“We can meet up later today to practice? I have cheerleading practice after school, but I’m free after that!” You grinned at him, and he felt the tension ease out of his shoulders as you rested your hand on his arm. The gesture was so effortless- but to Caliban, who’d never really experienced connection like this- you reduced him to all but clay again.

“I can drive you home after practice?” Caliban offered, enjoying the yelp that Sabrina let out from the back of the classroom. He shouldered your bag as the bell sounded, noting the way your eyes softened even further at the gesture. “We don't really have cheerleaders down under, you know.”

“You’re welcome to stay and watch.” You shrugged, ignoring the way your heart thudded erratically as he walked you to the locker room. “It won’t be too long today, and Sabrina has a date with Nick after, anyways.”

it was really just too easy.

i can't get your smile out of my mind

i think about your eyes all the time

you're beautiful but you don't even try

(you don't even, don't even try)

modesty is just so hard to find

Caliban wasn’t sure if he regretted his earlier offer. Sure, the sight of you tucked into the tight cheerleading uniform (did they make them that short on purpose?) was pretty much the pinnacle of male fantasy, and the smiles and winks you’d thrown his way whenever he caught your eye during your routines were something else altogether.

But getting the sight out of his brain as you rambled aimlessly in the car about today’s chapters of Dante’s Inferno, while he simultaneously tried to focus on the road and definitely not the way your skirt hitched on the leather seat...

Yeah, Caliban was pretty sure he was in love.

You weren’t too far off, in all honesty. Caliban’s large hands had a firm grip on the steering wheel, and you took the time to admire further up his toned arms as he drove. His hair fell in loose, windswept waves, and his side profile looked like it was sculpted by the freaking gods. Every so often he would glance your way, his perfect lips parting to reveal his perfect teeth and perfect smile and gods-

Yeah, you had the lovebug bad.

“So how did you meet Sabrina?” You questioned innocently enough, and Caliban had to restrain the urge to spill all of the hell-related gossip to you. How Sabrina had managed to keep all of her throne-seeking from you was beyond him, but it certainly added a thrill to his pursuit of you.

“I had some administrative issues the other day and ran into her. She doesn’t like me too much, I’ve gathered.” Caliban was careful not to lie- his entanglement with you had the added perk of pissing off your dearest cousin, but it was genuine on Caliban’s end. He found he didn’t really want to lie about things.

“Sabrina is... touchy.” You offered carefully, shifting in your seat as you pointed out directions to your home. “I don’t really understand why she doesn't like you, to be honest. I was actually going to have a word with her about being nice- you’ve been so sweet, and I was the new kid too a few years back. It's hard to find your place in the established dynamic of a small town.”

Caliban doubted you’d had too much of an issue, with the way the halls seemed to light up around you, but the accompanying smile you gave him was bright enough to soothe his imagined woes. “It’s alright, I reckon she’ll get used to having me around.”

“Used to you?” You mused with a giggle, leaning on the console in a gesture that brought your face much, much closer to his own. He was overwhelmed with your floral scent- something soft and summery and altogether you.

“I plan on being around you a lot, sunshine. If you don’t mind.” He grinned, turning to face you momentarily at the stop sign. Your eyes were wide with hardly concealed surprise at his words, and he watched the realization of the close proximity of his face flicker through them.

It happened so fast that Caliban was almost certain he imagined it- but your eyes had definitely glanced at his lips. The blush that tinged your cheeks as you pulled back confirmed it, and in a moment of calculated risk, Caliban moved to rest his hand on your exposed thigh. 

“No, I wouldn’t mind at all.” 

If Caliban squinted, he could almost picture that he was a normal teenage boy, driving a beautiful, normal girl home from school. The sinking sun was peeking through the windows, bathing you in an ethereal glow, and - at least for right now- everything was perfect.

you were perfect.

now i'm speechless, over the edge

i'm just breathless

i never thought that i'd catch this love bug again

hopeless, head over heels in the moment

i never thought that i'd get hit by this love bug again

Caliban draped himself across your bed, a languid smirk on his lips as you kicked haphazardly placed piles of clothes into your closet.

“I promise I’m not usually this messy,” you apologized with a sheepish smile, shoving a mass of shoes under your bed, “okay, that's a lie. I’m always this messy, I just didn’t expect company.”

Caliban hardly minded. It was adorable how embarrassed you were, and he took the time to take in your bedroom (drawn from his reverie only by the occasional delighted shout when you found a shirt you’d thought had been sacrificed to the laundry gods, or worse, Sabrina’s room).

The first thing Caliban noticed was the books. While your clothes lay in scattered piles, all of your books were meticulously organized and lovingly tucked into shelves that took up an entire wall of the room. Sabrina may have answered that Caliban’s only hobby was torturing babies (or her, which was the same thing, really— and also, what the hell? Caliban may have enjoyed the occasional soul flaying, but only when it was well deserved!)— but Caliban loved to read.

What was one lifetime in one world, when he could learn of a thousand others in just as many universes? Immortality could grow dull, and eternity had to be spent somehow. Caliban tried not to smile as you precariously placed the book that had found its way onto your nightstand back into its place, and supposed that it might be far more enjoyable with someone else.

You seemed satisfied with your damage control, and slumped onto the bed dramatically with a groan. It was then that Caliban’s hand found a stray victim of your clothing massacre.

“Nice.” He grinned, and you peeked up from your playbook to find him dangling a pink lace bra.

Shit.

“Give me that!” You lunged, but Caliban was too fast. He quickly moved them from your reach, laughing wildly as you wrestled him desperately for the bra. 

“You are the worst.” A groan escaped you, and you huffed in fake-defeat as Caliban smirked victoriously at your retreat. You leaped at the chance, tackling Caliban with all your might. While momentarily surprised, he reacted quickly and shifted so that he was now pinning you to the bed, his hair dangling wildly in your face as you both laughed.

Caliban’s face was so close that you could see the flecks of green in his eyes. For a moment, his eyes seemed to flicker to your lips, but in the seconds it took for you to find your voice again, you’d lost your nerve. 

“We should get back to the scene.”

The moment was broken, and Caliban retreated with a bashful look on his face. He ran a hand through his hair and moved to sit across from you, his cheeks tinted a little red as he politely handed you back your intimates and pretended to shield his eyes when you tossed it somewhere. You’d never been so freaking embarrassed in your life, but Caliban was smiling so softly at you, like you were—

“If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.” He motioned around with his hands dramatically, tone playful and light.

You were so dead. Caliban was freaking made for this romantic swooning nonsense that you’d tried to protest nearly the whole ride home, Billy Marlin be damned.

Giggling nervously in what you hoped seemed scene-appropriate, you tried your best to forget being a horny teenager to instead play a horny teenager. “Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this, for saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.”

Caliban’s voice lowered, a smile still tugging at his lips as he took your hands in his own. “Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?”

“Ay, pilgrim.” Your own voice softened in turn as Caliban began to trace mindless patterns on the backs of your hands with his thumbs, “lips that they must use in prayer.”

“O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do. They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.” Caliban’s eyes were soft, and you imagined that Shakespeare had pictured the man in front of you when putting the words to paper. The words fell so naturally from his lips and he seemed engrossed in the scene— he was, for lack of a better word, enchanting.

“Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.” Your voice was hardly more than a breathless whisper, the proximity of your faces and the intimacy (however imagined) stealing the air from your lungs.

Caliban paused, his eyes meeting yours intently as if searching for something. Whatever it was, he seemed to find it as he took your face in both of his hands.

“Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take.” 

It was all too much. You could hardly be blamed for kissing him as fiercely as you did.

It was like fireworks, like every cheesy romance novel and play (cough, Romeo and Juliet) claimed it would be. You’d had plenty of kisses before, but never one that melted your brain like this. You forgot all about the scene, about how not real this was supposed to be as your hands tangled in his windswept hair and he pulled you onto his lap.

It was Caliban who first pulled away, only just so that your noses were touching. He was breathing heavily, eyes blown wide— and you felt your whole face turn red as reality consumed you again. “I am so sorry, I’ll just—”

“Where do you think you’re going, Juliet?” Caliban’s hands firmly gripped your hips, preventing you from moving away. His fingers thumbed the band of your skirt, and his next words were a whisper against your lips. 

“Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged.”

kissed her for the first time yesterday

everything i wished that it would be

suddenly i forgot how to speak

hopeless, breathless, baby can't you see?

Caliban was in love. He’d spent the next three weeks with you reciting Romeo and Juliet, sharing shakes at Dr. Cerberus, and tugging you into empty classroom and closets at every opportunity to kiss you senseless.  Every moment not spent with you was at least somewhat occupied by the thought of you, and Caliban found he wasn’t the least bit upset about it.

And Sabrina was pissed.

If she’d hated him before, she positively loathed him now. It was the latest point of contention between yourself and your darling cousin, who’d you taken to threatening with various kitchen utensils and promises to tell the aunties she’d been sneaking out to make her behave. And Caliban, for his part, was perfectly polite— even though he still had every intention of taking the throne from the inexperienced witch who promised to destroy the balance of heaven and hell.

Which presented Caliban’s own latest dilemma. He was going to have to tell you eventually— and in a way that didn't make you totally hate him. He had a plan. Okay, maybe a skeletal plan. Or no plan. Yeah, Caliban was going to wing it. 

After today. He just had to make it through your reenactment of Romeo and Juliet with no demonic catastrophes or maiming Blly, and then he would tell you everything.

But even that was too much to ask.

Sabrina burst through the english classroom doors, yelling in barely concealed panic that there was a BIG problem and the principal needed Caliban now.

Caliban moved to leave with an apologetic smile in your direction, which you were absolutely not having. Despite your current frustration with Sabrina, she looked downright terrified, and you were both concerned for your cousin and overwhelmed with a gut feeling that something was up.

After a few moments, you excused yourself to use the restroom.

You hauled ass to the gym, where the screaming sounded to be coming from. When you entered, you were met with the strangest sight.

The gym was filled with winged... rats? And at the center of the chaos was Sabrina and Caliban, back to back and armed with what appeared to be lacrosse sticks. Caliban’s shirt was tattered from the rats, and you took a fraction of a second to banish the completely innappropriate and untimely thoughts from your head.

“And no one thought to call me?” You shouted angrily through the swarm, snagging a baseball bat from the rack and smacking it around with reckless abandon. Caliban hooted, laughing loudly as you took your place beside them. Rats tore at your clothes, but you were more frustrated that Sabrina had called your boyfriend (or whatever he was) over you.

“Why did you get Caliban! I was right there! Is there something wrong with you? Were you dropped on the head as a child? He’s not even from here Sabrina, he has no idea what-”

“For hell’s sake, he’s not the new kid! He’s not even from Australia! He’s a stupid clay prince from hell who is trying to take my throne and raze humanity, and his stupid plague king sent these after me, and now he’s dating you!” Sabrina spat out the word dating as if it was even more disgusting than the winged vermin tearing at your clothes. 

“Will someone please explain what the hell is going on here?” 

You were no less frustrated when Sabrina revealed her trek to hell and the all ensuing madness she’d partaken in, but you remained calm enough to not turn the bat on her clearly empty skull. 

“And you’re the clay prince of hell... challenging her throne?” You questioned with a sharp glance at Caliban, who nodded reluctantly as he swatted a rat hurtling towards you. 

“Do you even have a driver’s license!” You screamed, waving your baseball bat around wildly.

“I’m a demon prince of hell made out of clay, and you’re worried about if I can legally drive?” Caliban shouted back in astonishment through the wave of shrieking rats. The lacrosse stick he’d snagged was surprisingly effective.

“I was getting to that part, thank you for reminding me!” You hissed, debating whether to smash his face in with the bat. “How about we start with how you completely lied to me, and how our whole relationship or whatever it is a lie! Were you ever going to tell me? Or was this all part of some throne grab?” 

“It wasn’t a lie!” Caliban demanded hotly. “You were not a lie!”

“Really!” You whirled on him, eyes alight with anger. “Because I sure feel like one!”

The rats numbers were dwindling rapidly, and you smacked the last one heading towards you directly at Caliban’s face. It collided with a satisfying shriek, and you threw your bat down as you stormed out of the gym.

Sabrina and Caliban rushed after you, but you’d disappeared in the hall.

now i'm, yeah, oh!

now i'm speechless, over the edge

i'm just breathless

i never thought that i'd catch this love bug again

now i'm hopeless, head over heels in the moment

i never thought that i'd get hit by this love bug again, (oh)

love bug again

You’d remained collected until you’d transported into the middle of the living room, collapsing into auntie Hilda’s arms in a puddle of tears as you told her everything. She’d muttered a stream of ancient curses about Sabrina, but beyond that merely smoothed your hair and told you that all boys were awful— especially demonic princes of hell.

“I hate him.” You glared half-heartedly into your cup of steaming peppermint tea. You couldn’t believe you’d been so stupid. Falling blindly in love with a stranger who had only sought you out for some elaborate game with Sabrina. Screw Caliban and his perfect hair, his perfect smile, his perfect— “I want to bash his face in.”

“No you don't, love.” Hilda smiled knowingly. “You’re angry, yes— and hurt. But you care for the boy. I’ve never seen you so happy as you’ve been these last few days. I think you ought to cool down and hear what he has to say.”

“I never want to talk to him again.” You groaned, burying your face in a pillow. “I’d rather die.”

And because the universe was truly conspiring against you, a knock sounded at the door.

“Well, best get over that quick.” Hilda warned, ignoring your stream of indignant protests as she hustled to the door. 

“Caliban! Yes, do come in love. Oh, yes, we will be having a little chat later, but for now I think it’s my niece you must be speaking to.” Hilda’s cheerful voice trailed in from the foyer, and you jumped up to make a break for it. 

You were halted by a familiar pair of strong arms tugging you back by the waist.

“Get off of me!” You shouted, pushing Caliban away harshly and ignoring the warmth that lingered where he’d touched you. “I want my baseball bat. Somebody get me my baseball bat! I’m going to bash your stupid pretty face in you asshole—”

“Five minutes.” Caliban pleaded desperately, “just give me a five minutes to explain, and then I’ll give you back the baseball bat to bash my face in, okay?”

You considered his offer for a moment, swallowing the sob crawling its way up your throat as you nodded reluctantly. If it made him leave faster, you’d do anything. 

His shoulder sagged in barely concealed relief. “Okay. I am Caliban, Prince of Hell. I am not from Australia, clearly, and am not a transfer student. I am trying to take your cousin’s throne. She does not understand the realm of the damned— she thinks it needs to be generous, rather than a fair judgment of life. I am not her father, and I do not believe in reckless or cruel damnation. I do not wish any harm on Sabrina, and I’ve managed to keep the worst of the plague kings from her. Even if you were to reject me now, I would continue to try to protect her— you have my word.” Caliban paused as you released a breath you did not know you were holding. Your eyes finally dared to meet his, and you nodded for him to continue.

“I agreed to attend Greendale because yes, it did piss off Sabrina, but you were there.” He raised his hand to halt your protest. “You intrigued me, and I wanted to know you better. I will be fully honest that it had the added bonus of irritating your cousin, who I so delight in irritating, but my primary focus was you. You... enchanted me. I had never found myself so invested in anything before as I was in spending mundane days at high school— of all things— with you. Truthfully, it confused even me at first. And while the past you knew is false, I am real— and my feelings for you are true.”

“That is such bullshit, and you know it!” You exploded furiously, smacking his chest with untamed rage. “You knew exactly what you were doing. Who agrees to go to high school because they like a girl? Are you unhinged? Who doesn't just ask someone out if they were so interested, huh? No, you came here with your stupidly perfect little ‘oh I’m Caliban, and I’m so dreamy’ act, knowing full well that it would make me completely abandon all rationality. Well guess what, I did! I fell stupid head over heels for you, and it was all one big lie.”

Your voice broke on the last few words, anger shifting to broken sadness as you continued to pound relentlessly on his chest. “I was a lie.”

He caught your hands, holding them against his chest as he pressed you against the wall. “You weren't a lie, Spellman.” 

His words were breathless whisper, his beautiful eyes pained and desperate as he gripped your hands harder. “I fell for you the moment I saw you. I enrolled in high school because you smiled at me. I learned every line of Romeo and Juliet to recite them to you. When we first met, you wondered how Romeo and Juliet could possibly fall in love after a mere few days, but I understand it now. I have never been driven so completely insane by anything or anyone like this before. The power you have over me is unmatched. I am completely and wholly yours. If you were to ask me right now to leave, to never bother you again, I would leave my heart with you and spend my eternity in endless sorrow. I would think forever of the way you smiled at me, the way you kissed me, how soft your hair felt in my hands, and how my heart raced every time you laughed. I would never forgive myself for the pain I had caused you, and you would haunt me every day, every waking moment, every dream.”

Caliban moved your hands to his lips, nearly kissing them as he pleaded to you with tears in his beautiful eyes. You were motionless, turned to stone by his heavy gaze.

“So please, don’t become my specter. If I am a stranger to you now, let me make you fall for me all over again. I would do it a thousand times, if you'd let me. I could think of no sweeter way to spend my eternity.”

When you’d thought that Shakespeare had been imagining Caliban when he wrote, you’d been wrong. There was no poetry, no book, no lyric that could possibly compare to the way he spoke to you— the way his eyes so desperately tried to convey his anguish.

You removed your hands from his, and his whole face seemed to shatter.

“You’re not a stranger,” you muttered softly, moving to take his face your hands. His face remained guarded, but he leaned instinctively into your touch. “You’re Caliban.”

When you kissed him, it was like falling in love all over again.

And you supposed you did.

“But we are having a long, long talk about everything.” You warned as you pulled back, poking his chest sharply as he nodded profusely. “And if you ever, ever lie to me again, I’ll set something worse than flying rats on you. I’ll let Sabrina have you.”

Caliban laughed wildly, picking you up and spinning you around as he kissed you over and over again in sheer relief and joy. “I love you, Spellman. Anything you want, it’s yours.”

“I just want you, clay boy.”

[innaminitus]

Gingerbreads

Pairing: George x reader x Fred

Request: WEASLEY TWINS CHRISTMAS SMUT YES PLEAASE where they both like the reader but like make a deal that it’s either both of them for her or none of them? THANK YOU

Warnings: smut, no twincest

Word count: 2671

A/N: BIG NOTE: if you are not okay with this kind of fic, you are free to not read it. there is plenty of similar fics all over tumblr, you can avoid them, too.

first fic from my Christmas at Hogwarts series! Feel free to send requests!

The hallways were filled with candles and glittery chains, on every corner there was a Christmas tree, decorated with all kinds of ornaments, gingerbreads and dried oranges, filling the air with the specific scent of holidays.

Disgusting.

You hated the so called ‘holiday spirit’ and basically everything that involved anything associated with Christmas. It wasn’t your fault, really. You remembered times when you actually quite liked Christmas. Not much of it you remembered, though, since you were just a small child when it all fell apart. It was Christmas, after all, when your father murdered your mother right in front of you. Cinnamon and oranges only made you anxious now.

Suddenly someone bumped into you from behind.

“Hey, Portkey!” The Weasley twins blocked your view and both walked backwards in order to see you.

“Stop calling me that…” You furrowed at the nickname, but couldn’t help but to smile.

You got the nickname after the circumstances in which you met the twins.

You were scrubbing the cauldrons in Snape’s office as your detention when the door opened and Filch jumped on his chair in which he has been snoring for at least half an hour now. Snape stormed through the door, dragging two boys by their collars. You saw them before, the famous Weasley twins, the jokers of Hogwarts.

“Messrs. Weasley will help Miss Y/L/N clean the cauldrons. I expect them to be clean enough to see my own reflection.”

“Of course, professor!” Filch nodded his head. “I’ll make sure they will!”

But despite what he said, right after Snape left Filch sat back on his chair and started snoring once again. Fred or George laughed at him and grabbed one of the sponges you were using to clean one of the cauldrons from something thick and sticky.

“I’m Fred” one of them said “and this is George.” He pointed at his twin who cringed at the sight of dirty cauldrons.

“I’m Y/N,” you murmured without taking your eyes off a particularly dirty place.

“And how did you end up here?”

You smirked and looked up.

“I turned Filch’s mop into a portkey. He ended up on the roof every time he touched it.”

They both laughed at your words.

“Brillaint!” said George. At least you thought it was George. “We gave the whole first year Fainting Fancies.”

“Only to test them, of course.”

“But Granger ruined the fun.”

You stopped scrubbing for a second and looked at them with dismay.

“What on earth are Fainting Fancies?” you asked, not sure if you actually want to know the answer.

“Ah!” Fred straightened, obviously very proud of himself. “Our invention! We are working on sweets that make you ill.”

“Sweets that make me ill?” You raised your eyebrow.

“Exactly. You take one and have, in example, instant fever. Perfect before an exam you forgot about.”

“You guys are really something else.”

It was in the middle of September. You have become quite inseparable ever since, the jokes and hours of detention really brought you together.

“Ready to leave for Christmas?” asked Fred, almost tripping over an old rug.

You dragged his arm and forced him to walk next to you, afraid he might actually fall next time. George also joined your side.

“I’m not leaving. I always spend Christmas here.”

“Well, actually that makes sense. I wouldn’t like to spend Christmas with a Slytherin either,” Fred laughed, but George stormed him with sight. “What?”

You only talked to George about what happened to your family. One night you were changing the lenses in telescopes in Astronomy Tower, so instead of stars they would show a giant eye of a person who would use them and ended up looking at the night sky filled with dark clouds. You were talking about everything and nothing, and from word to word you ended up confessing it to him. How your father killed your mother, because she wouldn’t join him as a Death Eater. How you run away through the back door of your house and, swallowing tears, stormed to your neighbors. How the Aurors would take your father to the Azkaban and leave you at an orphanage. How no one would adopt you.

“It’s just… Celebrating Christmas in an orphanage is never fun. I much prefer it here than there.”

Fred’s smile fainted. “I’m- I’m sorry, Y/N, I had no idea.”

“That’s fine.” You waved your hand at him. “You couldn’t know.”

He looked at his twin, they exchanged looks that seemed to say more than any word could.

“Alright, that’s it,” George said. “You have to come with us for Christmas.”

You shook your head with a faint smile. “It’s alright, boys. I’m fine on my own, really.”

“Well, we’re not.” Fred stopped, blocking your way up the corridor. “That’s it, you’re coming with us. I already told mom you would.”

You furrowed. “No, you didn’t.”

“But I will, so you better go pack yourself.”

You sighed. Would it really be so bad? Would you go down memory lane and get fifteen panic attacks by the time you step through the door of their home or would you finally soothe the horror you’ve been living in for past twelve years? There was only one way to find out.

“Alright. I’ll go.”

***

You were nervous during the whole train ride, and now you felt as if you were about to jump from your own skin because of anxiety. With the rest of the Weasley siblings and, of course, the one and only Harry Potter you were waiting outside the King’s Cross station for Mr. Weasley, who was going to pick you up. In a car, they said. You couldn’t possibly imagine how exactly you would fit in a car with all the baggage, but magic surprised you way too many times for you to still question everything. This time it was no different – although Mr. Weasley parked a simple black car, he supposedly got from the Ministry (it had something to do with Potter, but you didn’t ask too many questions) inside it was as big as a van. Every single one of you could fit inside, and you still had plenty of room left. They all chattered and laughed during the way, but you were too stressed to even listen to them. You regretted your decision already. You should be at Hogwarts, in your dorm room, alone, reading a book and drinking unholy amount of hot chocolate with marshmallows. The elves would always bring you some food and this perfect beverage since you never joined the rest of the students which stayed as well. But it was too late now.

The car stopped before an old, weirdly crooked house which looked like a patchwork blanket you had when you were little. Somehow it made you feel warm inside.

You got out right after Ginny, with your bag in hand, unsure what to do. You locked your eyes on flying lights around the roof of the house. Could it be fairies? Or just enchanted string of plain lights?

All of the sudden you felt heavy arm around your shoulders. “Hey, Portkey, you alright?” Fred asked, his sight following yours. “Yeah, I know it’s not much, but–“

“It’s perfect,” you interrupted, smiling.

His face brightened and you noticed sparkles in his eyes. Pretty.

“Go on, lovebirds!” Ginny waved at you and you noticed that it was now only you and Fred standing outside. You blushed suddenly and hurried inside.

“Oh, hello, dear!” Mrs. Weasley smiled at you and grabbed your arms, squeezing them lightly. A big warm smile bloomed on her face. “You must be Y/N! How lovely to finally meet you, I’m so glad you’ll spend holidays with us!”

“Thank you for having me.” You smiled back. This woman just greeted you like an old family friend, not an orphan she sees for the first time in her life. It was… oddly nice.

***

You were sitting on a sofa, your knees under your chin, staring blindly at the yule tree, your sight blurred to the point where you only saw points of colorful light. The dinner was wonderful. Mrs. Weasley asked George in a letter what your favorite food was, and of course made it just for you. She also made sure there was no scent of gingerbread spice. It was just a little too much for you.

“You’re not asleep?” Someone’s voice interrupted your mindless procrastinating.

You blinked and turned your head to look at George walking down the stairs.

“Not yet… I’m a little overwhelmed. Don’t mind me.”

He sat next to you. The sofa was quite small, that’s why you put your legs down, and now his thigh was touching yours.

“I know my mum can be… intense. To say the least, but she means well.”

“I know that, and she’s lovely, really, it’s just… I don’t know. A lot to process for me. I haven’t had real Christmas since I was a kid. And you are all trying to make me feel welcome…” You turned your head from him, suddenly ashamed. “I feel like I don’t deserve any of it.”

A second passed, then another, and you felt his warm fingers under your chin. He gently turned your face back to him.

“You deserve everything, Y/N.” He moved so close to you that for a second you were sure he was going to kiss you, but he hesitated mere millimeters from your lips. Hotness flushed your cheeks. He smelled like pine tree and suddenly you decided it was now your favorite scent. You waited for a second that felt like an hour, and slightly moved away in the same moment he moved forward. A small gasp escaped your lips, he leaned even more, undaunted, and kissed you gently. No tongue, not even opened mouth, just lips touching lips. It was a long kiss, though, and when he moved away you felt uncomfortable chill on your mouth.

“George–“

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t–“

“No,” you interrupted. “Do it again. Please.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. His hand landed on the back of your neck, he pulled you to him, and butterflies erupted in your stomach. Enough with the gentleness, he was needy, as if he’s been waiting for your lips his whole life. His other hand was on your thigh, he was turning you more towards him as his tongue slid into your mouth.

“Well, well, well.”

You parted immediately, somehow ashamed. Fred slowly walked down the stairs, a hint of smile on his face. “What do we have here?” He stood before you, hands crossed. “I thought we had a deal, Georgie.” Wait, what? “It’s either both of us or none of us.”

You blinked once, then twice, but couldn’t understand the situation. You looked at George, hoping that maybe he would make it clearer.

“I know, I know,” he sighed “but I couldn’t help myself.”

Your heart missed a beat, but not in a pleasant way. Were they… making a bet?

“Can any of you tell me what the hell are you talking about?” you asked, lovely moment from just a mere minute ago long gone.

George rubbed the back of his head and exchanged looks with Fred. They were doing it again, communicating without words.

He sighed. “We– we both like you, okay? And we agreed that none of us will be with you… unless the other one would also be involved.”

You swallowed hard. Did he mean… to be with them both? At the same time? It seemed crazy but… you liked them, too. They were both handsome, obviously. Would it be so bad?

“Okay,” you said, the steadiness of your voice surprising you. “We can– we can try.”

They seemed as surprised as you were, looking at each other once more.

Fred was the first to speak, after he cleared his throat. “Then maybe… let’s go to our room?”

You nodded and followed him up the stairs, feeling the warmth of George’s body behind you.

It was oddly arousing. You had to be quiet, to not wake anyone. You knew you’d have to be quiet later when… When what exactly? Were you going to have sex? Or was it just your hope?

You entered the twins’ room, bathed in moonlight. It smelled like pine here as well…

Suddenly a hand was on the back of your neck, Fred’s tongue first, a split second before his needy lips landed on yours. You didn’t think, you didn’t wait, you gave back every kiss, your tongue next to his. While his fingers were tangled in your hair another set of hands played with skin under the hem of your shirt, bolder with each passing moment. He traced the curves of your body, shamelessly traveled up, and up, his soft fingers caressed the side of your breasts only to finally land on your hardened nipples. You moaned in Fred’s mouth at which he bit your lower lip.

“You like how he touches you, huh?” His voice no more than a whisper, sent shivers down your body. “Wait till I touch you.”

George rolled your nipples in between his fingers, but soon his hands were gone, because Fred lifted you up. They seemed to have one mind, what one thought the other acted. George sat on one of the beds, Fred seated you between his brother’s legs. His fingers hooked on your pajama pants and your panties, but before he took them off he took a look at you, one eyebrow raised in silent question. You could go back now, they wouldn’t blame you. Only… you didn’t exactly want to go back. You lifted your hips, your answer just as silent as his. He grinned and slid your clothes down your legs. George gripped your shirt and soon it was also gone, but you weren’t cold. You had two bodies to warm yourself and you were gladly going to use them.

George’s soft lips traced the curve of your neck while Fred was watching your arousal grow under his brother’s touch. His hands slowly parted your thighs, showing your already pulsating pussy. His twin’s fingers were kneading your breasts and mercilessly pinching your nipples while his mouth landed on yours, kissing you passionately.

He caught you by surprise, really. Almost making you jump when you felt warm tongue spreading your folds, surprise quickly turning to pleasure when Fred’s tongue started to, gently at first, play with your dripping pussy. Oh, but he was impatient. Soon you were a moaning as he was sucking on your clit and slowly pushing one finger inside of you. George wasn’t planning on being any worse than his brother – his skillful fingers could probably make you come just by playing with your nipples and soon you were biting your lips almost till they bled, only to not moan their names.

The pleasure was unbelievable. Feeling of two bodies against you, flicks of Fred’s tongue and moves of George’s fingers and his lips on yours – it was all too much to bear, too much for one person to experience. And you found yourself lost in this pleasure when Fred joined another finger deep in your pussy. Your muscles clenched on him, he started sucking on your clit, George’s fingers pinched hard and all of the sudden you were almost knocked out by the most intensive orgasm you’re ever had.

They gave you a moment to come down from the high and slowly started to undress when you suddenly heard a knock on the door.

“Can you wrap it up?” You heard Ginny’s whisper. “Mom asked me twice already where you are, Y/N, I’m running out of excuses.”

You got all red and slapped your hand over your mouth, looking at the twins who tried very hard not to laugh. Fred handed you your clothes and George leaned to your ear “We’ll finish it tomorrow.” A shiver went down your spine. Well, now you’ve had new Christmas memory to hold onto.

[gyllenhaalstories]

YOU WON’T PLAY, YOU’RE NO FUN — PROF!CHRIS

summary: chris evans is your professor with whom you’ve had an affair with since the beginning of the semester. you meet with him over zoom with your fellow teammates to discuss your project, but you can’t seem to get into the right mindset. instead of providing the group with clever comments and ideas, all you do is test the limits of chris’ patience and self control.

warnings: don’t have sex with your prof please, mentions of online classes, smut including: established dom/sub relationship & teacher/student relationship (abuse of power used strictly as a joke, they are both 18+ and consensual), degradation, masturbation & mutual masturbation, edging. MINORS DON’T READ NOR INTERACT.

word count: 1500

notes: rail me daddy :) i’m a hoe for teacher/student if you can’t tell already. i do keep it vague by not mentioning any majors, don’t worry! it’s my first time writing for chris, so please, be kind!!! i hope you enjoy reading this mess!!!! ily <3

gif credits: capsgrantrogers blessing us with this low quality webcam goodness.

“Miss /Y/L/N, would you mind staying a little longer? I need to talk to you.” Chris’ voice resonated as your classmates went quiet before they waved their cameras goodbye and left the two of you alone.

Uh oh.

“Sure, what do you want to talk about?” By the time you were done with your question, you noticed that his face was frozen. “Mister Evans! Chris?! I think there’s an issue I can’t — hear you.” You sighed and rolled your eyes. You seriously needed to get that Internet connection checked. You had your hand on your laptop, ready to close it up when you heard the familiar noise of a video call, but this time it was a private conversation.

“Don’t want anybody to walk in on us, right?” Chris winked and smirked at you. You had a flashback of that one time you hooked up in his office and realized his door was left ajar when you could hear the secretary of the department arguing with the printer. You thanked your guardian angel (who must had been very disappointed) that you were just on your knees blowing him off, and that nothing too serious was going on.

You laughed, for a second you thought you were in trouble.

“What was that all about?” Chris questioned, his smirk disappeared and was replaced by a dark expression.

“I have no clue what you’re referring too.” You shrugged lightly and looked at the screen, wishing he had chosen another shirt that showcased his tattoos. You were lucky enough to see his arms from the short sleeves, you felt as aroused as royal men back in the day when they saw a woman’s ankles.

Chris clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Oh, really? There is no explanation to the attitude you’ve been giving your teammates and me all morning?”

You sighed again, loud enough for him to hear you. “They’re idiots and I’m sick of their shit. They’re not doing anything on the project yet they show off in front of you just to   —“

“Got it, they’re dumb and you’re smart.” He put the emphasis on the last few words. “Tell me, Miss, if you’re that smart, how come you’ve made the very stupid decision to be rude to me as well?”

You swallowed thickly. You were just so pissed off, exhausted from the all nighter you had to do in order to complete the requirements for today’s class. “Chris, look, you know it wasn’t about you...” You heard him cough. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

“I’d call you a good girl, but good girls don’t talk back and they certainly don’t act so bratty. What a potty mouth, you swore in front of everybody. Do I have to teach you manners too? I’m afraid that’s not listed on my tasks as your professor, too bad.”

“I said I was sorry! You know how much I hate them!”

“Do I have to give you a bad grade for not cooperating? Not everybody is as understanding as me, you need to learn that.”

He sounded so arrogant, so condescending. As much as you hated it, it turned you on. You were all squirmy on your chair, and he caught up on that.

“Tell me, what’s on your mind, princess? Why are you on the edge?”

You looked up through your lashes, letting out a complaint. That fucker. The last time you met, which was over a week ago, he had an emergency and had to leave his apartment to go on campus. How convenient, you had not finished and you were left breathless and worked up on his bed. He made you promise not to touch yourself without permission on his way out. He knew just how impatient you could get. All the needy texts you sent him while he was looking over his other classes during an exam; all the begging you did over the phone while he insisted on doing small talk.

“You won’t play with me,” you pouted at the screen. “You’re no fun.”

He chuckled, his voice sounded lower than usual while he sat up on his chair. He loved this game with you, probably as much as you did if not more.

You noticed his arm disappeared out of the frame. You’d do ten other team works with your stupid colleagues if it meant you’d be the one to take care of his hard on at that very moment.

“Oh, baby wanna have fun? Is that it? You should have told me sooner!” He cleared his throat when he heard you sigh again, giving you a warning. “Get those fingers nice and wet for me.”

You obeyed, sucking on two fingers of your dominant hand. You picked up on the back and forth movements of his arm, he was palming at his crotch. You caught a glimpse of him standing up   — he was in tight Calvin Klein boxers   —  and sitting back down, his cock freed from his clothes. “I’ve been good, Sir. So good.”

He nodded slowly, after spitting in his hand and starting to fist his cock. “Oh, really?”

You nodded frantically. “I haven’t touched myself since you left,” you pulled your hand away from your mouth, a string of saliva fell down your chin. “I’ve been so wet for you, Sir. You’re all I’ve been thinking about.”

“Then think about my fingers rubbing your clit.” He groaned, the speed of his arm motions increased.

You jerked on your chair at the contact of your fingers, your panties were soaked from your arousal. “Sir!” You moaned out when you circled faster against the bundle of nerves.

“You’re so fucked up for me, you’d rather cum on your fingers than on my face, huh?” You felt tears pooling in your eyes. “Stop touching yourself and answer me.”

You pulled your hand away, showing it to the camera so he believed you. “I want to cum so bad, Sir! Please, just once! And I’ll wait until we meet again. I need it!”

“And I need to fuck that tight little cunt of yours and you don’t hear me complainin’.” His bicep flexed in his tight shirt, his breathing got heavier. “I waited for you the entire week. I didn’t text you in the middle of the night begging like a desperate slut.” He nodded, indicating you could start rubbing again.

You moaned loudly, throwing your head back. He was edging you, again.

“Eyes on me, Baby. Need to see you.”

It took so much energy just to keep your eyes open.

“Faster.” He growled, he was so close too. You could feel it, even if he was far away.

“Sir, please!”

“Stop, stop right fucking now.” He pulled away from his swollen cock at the same time as you did. “I won’t tolerate attitude like this again, you heard me?” You nodded, mouthed a ‘yes’. “I don’t want to repeat myself. You’re such a dumb little baby sometimes, I’ll probably have to.” The more he mocked you, the more you needed to touch yourself again. “Next time you act like a bitch in my class, you’ll regret it.” You never took his threats lightly. The first, and last, time that you did, you ended up bent over his knee with the belt of his dress pants spanking your ass red like the ink from the pen he used to grade papers

“I’ll count to ten. At ten, you’ll...”

“I’ll cum!” You spoke excitedly.

“Yes, Babygirl. You’ll get to cum.” He licked his lips and stroked his beard, his hand holding his sensitive cock. “Ready?”

You replied with even more enthusiasm and he started to count up.

“Slowly, 1, 2, 3...” He swallowed thickly. “Add more pressure now, 4, 5, 6,” he tightened his grip around his cock. “Faster, 7, 8, 9...” he jerked himself up at the same speed as you. “Now, cum for me. Make a mess like you’d do on my cock. That’s right, cum for me, Princess.”

The knot in your stomach finally snapped and you released yourself on your hand. You were panting and clenching around nothing, wishing you were with Chris right now.

He growled loudly as he released himself on his hand and shirt. “Look what you did to me, Baby.” He sat up just enough to show you, causing you to laugh at the sight of his messed up top.

In exchange, you showed him your slick coated fingers before you licked them clean. Blood rushed to his cock again, but he took a deep breath to calm down. “All good now?”

“Yes! Thank you, Sir.” You smiled, content and satisfied.

He wiped his hand clean with his shirt, after he removed it and let you admire his broad chest and inked drawings. “I’m giving you extra homework.”

Your smile disappeared and you squinted, mentally preparing for more readings or an extra essay on how good he fucked you. It would be your third or fourth, you ran out of synonyms to explain that he made you feel like you were on cloud nine.

“Take a shower and a nap, I’ll get to this meeting and meet you back home, okay?”

Your face lit up again, and you clapped happily.

“See? I can be fun when I want to.”

[that--unusual-person]

you know who you are and this one’s on you.

Kars x Dom.Reader

word count: 4133 (Halloween themed halowEEEEeN)

(i’m gonna break the rules; and this man. alittle self-indulgence cuz hey, who wants to bully the big bad pillar man himself)

(may not be all the pillar men but I really REALLY wanted to give this man a good screwin' for the longest time and now after two nights of screaming to myself I went bonkers)

Night came as quickly as the sun sets; the sound of Halloween slowly begins to fade out as pumpkins never cease their crisp light. The moon almost visible if not for the clouds that cake the sky, giving an ere glow to the haunted night. And as haunted as it may feel… nothing seems to break this peaceful night-

“We’re heading out,” a voice screams from the other room.

Your spooky day dreaming is disrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps making their way to your room. As you stop gazing out your window to the night sky you turn to face the sound of the commotion. From your doorway you see three heads pop in. You can’t help but get mixed feelings of confusion, the urge to laugh, and squeal at the visual.

“I’m taking the boys out hunting,” Esidisi exclaims. Him, along with Wamuu and Santana, are dressed in what looks like latex suits and cat ears. The costume joke you bought for them at the store seemed to be paying off. Though you didn’t expect them to wear the funky-sexy cat like get up and go out into the dead of night for candy, it was a pleasant surprise and quite a sight to see.

Shoving down your laughter and putting on a straight face you begin to question their motives. “Why are you going now? You already missed the chance to go trick or treating,” as much as you hate to admit it and ruin their fun, it makes sense to wait until everyone is at home and already indulging in their sugary feasts; less they want to see three hunks dressed like stripper cats asking for a treat.

Esidisi was around to speak but Santana beat him to it, “store has candy. More than what they offer here.” Then it was Wamuu’s turn to speak, “and we want to see the décor of this Earthly tradition.” Finally getting a better look, you see Wamuu’s face is coated with a light blush which seems to grow more as Esidisi ruffles his hair.

“That’s right. I’m taking them out for the night to have some fun,” oh god, Esidisi said the f word.

As they begin to leave your rooms doorway and to the front door, you shoot up from your position and follow behind them. Holding your hands out and pointing a finger at the leader of the trouble you quickly sputter, “hold on- Esidisi- Just because everyone is at home and the streets aren’t that crowded anymore does NOT mean you can cause a ruckus.” Esidisi stops inches from the door, Wamuu turning around startled at how close you are, arms jumping to cover his lower stomach as if to protect himself. Poor guy, the suit must make him feel vulnerable after I joked about it.

Esidisi waves his hand at you rolling his eyes with a dumb smile on his face, “We’ll be fine. Besides, it was Santana that broke the lamp post by climbing it.” Santana shoots Esidisi an angry glare while growling under his breath being reminded of the incident that almost cost you the blame.

Sighing, you pinch the bridge of your nose, “make sure the boys stay out of trouble, especially you, Santana… and Esidisi for the love of god do NOT bring home anymore street signs.” Esidisi gave you a puzzled look, “but you said you needed decorations- “cutting him off, you almost laugh at the memory, “traffic lights are not decorations! And neither are shopping carts.” Letting a dramatic sign out himself, Esidisi’s shoulders slump and pouts at your sudden outburst, “Fine.”

Turning one again he opens the door letting the cold nights air rush into your home. The boys go first, hearing Santana run out to get a head start, Wamuu chasing behind him calling out to him already makes you regret your decision. But before you can say anything Esidisi starts to close the door behind him before stopping to peak behind the crack. “One more thing… expect a surprise when we return,” he winks at you before slamming the door in your face.

There you stand, a shiver running up your spine at the chaos you just unleashed into the fallout of Halloween. It’s almost hilarious having three muscular men run around causing mischief wherever they roam without a care in the world. Perhaps you should have joined them. Maybe it’s not too late.

“If you want to join them, go.” The voice behind you makes you jump. So much for the spooks being over, who better than to give a good scare than the man of light himself who lurks in the shadows of your home.

Turning your head your met with Kars sitting idly on the couch of your living room, as quiet and bored as ever. With a novel in hand, perched on the center of your sofa, he doesn’t even spare you a glance as you slowly make your way towards the other end of the couch. Plopping down next to him you breathe out.

“I could, but tonight isn’t my night,” letting your eyes close as you rake a hand down your face, you suddenly feel like the undead. While you’re stretching your face, Kars quirks an eyebrow at your dramatics, eyes peering over to you but never moving his head from the book. “I thought you liked Hallows Eve,” it sounded like a statement, like he expects you to be out of the house so he can finally have some peace and quiet alone.

Letting your hand fall from your face onto the couch you turn your head to face him, “yeah, I do, but now I’m not sure if I’ll be able to have same satisfaction as I used to.” Ever since the Pillar Men have welcomed themselves into your life as your new secret house guests, you’ve been running amuck trying to get them under control. And as big and mighty as they talk themselves to be, the old men can’t seem to get a grasp on todays era. So using all your will power and whatever is left of your stressful life you maintain the four like wild children. But over the past few months, Kars has seem to be the most tolerable.

Finally catching your gaze he turns his head to face you as well. The lazy look in his eyes tells you to ‘stop being such a baby.’ Pouting, you cross your arms and turn your head staring into the abyss of your wall while he shrugs, resumes to his novel.

After sitting in minutes of silence with the occasional sound of Kars flipping a page you finally give up on his company and plan to return to your room. You begin to rise from your seat with a sigh, then notice something under the coffee table a few inches away from the sofa. Curiosity takes hold of you as you bend down to recover what’s hidden.

He takes notice of your movements, moving the book closer to his face while you stare agape at the hidden object in your hands. The fourth cat costume you got especially for Kars. The plan from the beginning was for him only, just so you can lighten up his mood with the nickname ‘Kats’. Apparently, it didn’t end well for either of you, getting a cold stare down from Kars upon making jokes about the outfit while Esidisi was having a ball of a time laughing.

A shiver shoots up your spine as you look over to Kars. He’s been staring from behind his book since you picked up the outfit. Mustering up something, you blurt out without thinking, “do you still want to wear it-?” Before you could finish, Kars slams the book, and looks you dead in the eyes.

The crimson in his stare looks to be boiling into you, the frown of all frowns plastered on his face as he doesn’t make a sound. A tint of flush is seen across his face as you try to break from his trance, seemingly trying to hide his embarrassment behind a façade of anger. The gears in your mind start to move as you suddenly formulate a devious plan to get under Kars’s skin once and for all.

Smirking, you manage to pull of an Esidisi, getting in Kars’ personal space and showing no sign of stopping, your plan already in motion. Holding up the outfit next to you, you shake it slowly as to taunt him, “were you going to wear this while everyone was out?” Not a word was spoken from him, but the squint in his eyes and the way his brow twitched meant you struck a nerve. Bulls-eye.

Pressing on, you decide to get bold, “thinking about how hot you would look in an outfit like this? Is it too embarrassing to be seen wearing it around the boys? Or perhaps…” Your going off on a limb on this one. Literally, Kars looks so furious he just might slice your arms off.

“Are you saving a personal show for me?”

His eye go wide for a split second before his lips part to say something.

Nothing. He’s speechless you would even go as far as to assume he would do such a thing for someone, let alone a human. But deep down, he was hoping his cold stare would have scared you off and left him alone, he hoped you’d go with the boys on their night out. Yet at the same time, hearing how much you’ve been putting up with their bullshit and having the courage to accept them into your home and under your care almost chips away Kars from seeing you as an understatement.

He fights back the blush that is now seeping to the tips of his ears, regaining his composure, he blinks his eyes off to the side avoid eye contact.

“Perhaps,” is the only thing he whispers. You expected Kars to start screaming and throwing you across the room, but seeing how… serene he is to your question baffles you for a second. Taking a step back to give him some space, you lower your arms still holding the costume to get a better view of the man before you.

His tone is hushed yet still peaks on embarrassment and annoyance, “before, Esidisi tried convincing me to participate in this, so called quest to ‘bring you fun’ as an appreciation gift. But I wanted no part. Hence the hidden suit and why I am still here… it all seemed useless to me.” Closing his eyes, he take in a soft breath before turning to you, eyes soft and full of calm. “Now I see that I have been,” he clears his throat, “selfish, to your generosity and as a guest in your home.”

All you did was stare with wide eyes. Where did this nice man come from? Is this Kars? Surely it isn’t. But it was. He was being real wit out being a sassy jerk and being genuine. Again, curiosity creeps it’s way back to you and you break from the shock. Waving your hands frantically shaking your head you try to understand.

“Wait wait wait wait- are you saying your… your sorry?” You stop shaking your hand and head to stare at him with a look of disbelief.

“Yes.”

“Sorry as in… I’m sorry for being an asshole to you?”

“… Yes.”

“You mean your SORRY? Are you actually? Because I doubt you are considering-“

“Yes, Yes I am sorry.”

Frustrated he sighs and explains, “as lowly as you may seem for only being human, you have proved your worth and authority by taking us in when we needed shelter. And although we could have gone anywhere but this rot of a place, the others seem to… enjoy it here… far more than they have in the past. They are happy.”

Now it’s your turn to blush.

“And I thank you for that.”

Staring at him with your mouth agape, your brains gears suddenly stalled at his words. So, all this time they planned to do something for you in secret. The others have already said they were bringing back a ‘surprise,’ but what did Kars have to give? Suddenly you feel butterflies in your stomach. You’re not used to him being this nice. Shaking your head to regain control of your thoughts.

“So… what did you have in mind?”

“Hm?”

“I know the boys are planning something, aren’t you as well?”

You note how selfish you sound saying that. But this was a good time to finally get some sort of payment from him, after-all, he did say he was being selfish, and you can’t help but take this opportunity. Now or never, you repeat to yourself.

Kars chuckled before standing to his full height, setting his book on the coffee table. Leaning down to your height he whispers near your ear, “careful, that curiosity of yours might get you killed.” You laughed, pushing the costume into his chest, “curiosity killed the cat, and as far as I can see... you’re the kitty here.”

Now or never.

Pulling back to meet eye to eye, you’re smirking like a fox while he smiles like a cat. Plucking the outfit from your hands he whispers, “when I return with this on, let tonight be a way of letting you have some satisfaction,and I will only allow this once…

You may take what you want.”

Leaving to the bathroom to change, you stand there waiting for the door to close. Hearing the soft click of it finally shutting you release the breath you didn’t know you were holding. Kars. The Kars has just taken the costume you bought as a joke to put it on. You haven’t seen him in the outfit yet so the excitement bubbling in your guts begins to rise. In your mind you calm down, take control, that’s what you have always been doing. That’s what you will do tonight.

Suddenly a voice inside your head is giving you second thoughts. What if this means we were going out? All this build up and stimulation over a walk in the streets. But at least he will be wearing the cat costume. You begin to ponder your next move, what do you want from him?

Minutes pass by and you have formulated nothing. Your head is empty, only full of cotton. You jerk at the sound of the bathroom door opening. Your back is towards the sound as you tap your foot anxiously waiting for the cue to head for the door.

Footsteps enter the living space, and you bite your finger, thoughts beginning to slowly form in your mind of the situation. Finally coming to reality, you realize what you have done and aren’t sure the outcome is what you truly want.

…

Wait is he walking to you?

You remember one of Kars’ tricks. Sneaking up on you when you’re distracted. Realization hits you again as you feel his cold hands touch your shoulders and run down your torso at an agonizing pace.

Breath hitching as you feel him lean down, lips next to your ear. “Are you nervous?” Oh great, here comes the teasing.

Not long after he chuckles at your silence, he removes his hands from your body and resumes his spot on the couch, a leg crossed over his knee with a hand resting on his cheek propping his head up to stare at you. Except now he’s in the same tight latex the other pillar men were in.

The way the suit wrapped snug around his body almost made his curves and features more profound, especially in his lower regions. And what better way to balance criminally sexy than the cuteness of the cat ears that rested atop his head.

You resist the urge to pounce on him. All the while you look like an oaf standing there wide eyed and lips parted nearly drooling at the sight before you. What do you do now? Oh, right, control. Remember to take control.

Wiping the look off your face you now know your next move and plan to spring into action as an act of dominance. Kars knew how to get others to submit to him, even his looks are enough to get anyone to get down on their knees and beg. Now it was his turn, and yours to take charge.

But before you can truly think cautiously about your next course of action, you’re already striding over to stand in front of Kars. Once you stand before him, your lay your hand on the knee of his leg that’s crossed over and move it to lay on the couch next to his other. All while staring him dead in the eye, you move your own legs onto the couch, then lower your hips to straddle his lap as your hand moves to rest on his chest and the other on his stomach.

Kars’ expression doesn’t falter. Instead, the smile on his face grows wider as he hums in amusement at your choice. The hand resting on his cheek moves to cup your chin and brush his thumb under your lip. “Such a devious little human.”. The thumb stroking your lip stops, and you begin to feel his hands rest on your waist. He moves his hands lower til their gripping your hips, nails pushing into the soft flesh of your body.

“But I will not give myself so willingly. I want you to take me. Assert yourself over me. Dominate me.” You almost struggle hiding your flustering features after hearing Kars challenge you for power. Another one of his sly tricks; making you lose yourself. As much as you hoped he would’ve just surrendered himself to you, he’s testing how much you’re willing to go to take control over one of the most dangerous men in your house.

And you accept the challenge by doing what anyone else would in situations like this. You push him more into the couch, dragging your hips up more until your groins are touching, and capture him in a kiss.

Forceful and wanting. The way both your lips lock almost suffocates you, until you begin to open a gap and repeat. Kars doesn’t make a sound, lips sealed tight as he smirks. Finally getting impatient at his teasing, you thrust your tongue into his lips catching him by surprise, not expecting you’d just fire away so suddenly.

Eyes closing, Kars moans as your wet appendage invades his mouth, deepening your kiss into a sloppy make out session that would put Santanas eating habits to shame. Your tongues clash together fighting for dominance, the sounds that emit from you two are lewd and absolutely nasty. Finally letting you have your way, Kars relaxes, letting you have your way with his mouth, feeling his soft lips grow lax on yours and his tongue retreating, letting you win. You feel your confidence and power over him begin to grow at a greedy pace.

While you have Kars distracted you let your instincts kick in, the heat of the moment letting your mind go and your hands wonder.

Caressing his front, feeling the rough muscle under the suit makes you wonder just how tight it feels on him. Fingers sliding to the boarder of his skin and the latex, you feel how it dips, the clothing a little tight to fit your fingers in. So, you proceed to grope and squeeze at his pecks causing him to groan louder into your mouth, allowing more entry.

Before Kars could attempt to try and fight for dominance again, you release yourself from his mouth and begin to kiss along his jaw line and start to lick, hands still grabbing at his now tense muscles.

His breaths are shallow as you move his hair to the side, his hands still gripping your hips tighten, nails digging into you. Breath hitching and gasping as you now have access to his neck, licking and sucking at his sensitive flesh. You have Esidisi to thank for telling you Kars’ weak spot, credit where credit is due.

Now grinding against you, Kars begins to buck into your hips, the feeling of something solid rubbing against you makes you grin against his neck. So shameless. You bite into his neck tearing a loud gasp from his throat. Growling at your attack, he ruts into you harder, eyes shut with a frustrated expression, ducking his head into the crook of your shoulder.

You disconnect from his neck, leaving behind a bruising pink flush surrounded by a bite mark that was nearing the taste of blood. You giggle as he wraps his arms around you, still moving into you at a desperate pace. The soft moans escaping his mouth allow his warm breath to grace your neck.

Soon, you too feel something wet slide up the side of your neck. Kars begins to lick at your flesh but doesn’t bite. His fangs grave over you causing a shiver to flow through you. Mouth shut and lips pursed, you resist making any noise as he starts to work his tongue on you. Sucking on your flesh like he’s starved, begging for a taste.

You wrap your arms around his neck, arms tangling in his hair as you whisper into his ear. “Bite me.” Ha, nice, you’ve always wanted to tell Kars that when he’s gotten on your nerves. But in this instance, he’s getting you off.

He squeezes his hands more, nails now digging harder causing you to yelp. Growling at your command, he leaves your neck alone for a second before plunging down on it with no mercy.

The sound you make is a mix of pain and pleasure as he hunches over, shadowing you in his form, fangs deep into your flesh, his movements turning animalistic. Without a moment to spare he retracts his fangs from you and begins to slowly lap at your bleeding wound. And, dear god, this must be what his bone blades feel like when he licks them.

The way his tongue glides over the wound, latching on, sucking, pulling, moaning into you drives you crazy. It feels like a leech has attached itself to you and won’t let go. Kars’ hips begin to slow as he continues to suck on your neck, drinking up your blood till the bleeding stops.

Pulling his head back, Kars stares at you with a lazy expression, a small smile graces his features as he sees how flustered you are. Without another word he leans in, taking your mouth in his. Still in a haze, you let him take control over the kiss. His tongue slipping alongside yours, rubbing against you, letting you taste your own blood as saliva begins to leak from your mouths. Finally finding some strength you kiss back with in a fever, causing Kars to mewl into your mouth. Smirking into his lips you finally got Kars to break, sounding like a cat in heat. Ha, cat got your tongue-

Suddenly the door slams open at breakneck speed, denting the wall on impact.

“Hey, Y/N, we’re back and we got some-“ Esidisi stops mid-sentence at the sight before him. Wamuu and Santana peak in from behind the frame. Wamuu lets out a startled noise and turns his head away in embarrassment while Santana makes a gross face.

You and Kars break from the kiss, a heavy string of saliva connecting from both your lips. Esidisi stares in awe at the situation, Santana now backing away from the doorway seeming to be disgusted at the amount of physical contact he just witnessed while Wamuu is murmuring apologies for looking upon just a sacred moment between his master and you.

Still sitting in Kars lap, you don’t move a muscle as your notice the many grocery bags hanging from Esidisi’s arms full of candy and broken bags of sugar and what looks like a jerrycan.

Swallowing whatever you had stuck in your throat and in your mouth you got curious. “Where did you get those?”

“Those what? These?” He said holding his arms up showing off the bags.

“Yes, wait- did you-“

“…” Esidisi goes quiet, and all you can here is a whine that sounded like Wamuu and Santana groaning.

“Did you pay?”

“… Maybe.”

Signing, Kars squeezes his arms around you tightly like burying his face into your neck again, holding back a laugh.

“How much did you take.”

“We took everything.”

And Kars started manically laughing.

[marwritesgood]

Hi there 😀 I just read the cardigan series, sorry if that’s the wrong name for it! But I was curious when I finished reading the part about Steve and the reader getting back together. I’m happy they got back together, on the other hand I hate cheaters. I’m a massive fan of the teenage love triangle from folklore and I couldn’t help but thing of August. Did Steve cheat on here one time or was in numerous times? It seemed like she lost the promise ring and then boom, she finds out he cheated. Logically, I feel like he wasn’t cheating when he gave it to her and stuff, only having slept with someone after she lost it. I could be so completely wrong, but I guess what I’m asking is, was it a one time deal? Was he planning on cheating on her further? Sorry for the long post!!

No, thank you for taking an interest in my writing!! I’ve actually been dying to talk more about this so I’m more than happy to discuss 🫶🏽 Long response ahead!!

Steve cheated on her in April of 1985 and regretted it immediately. In my head, his relationship with the reader at this point is a bit rocky (i see Steve feeling on edge bc he doesn’t know what’s gonna happen to them once their no longer high schoolers) and his judgement gets clouded (by his insecurities and four too many beers).

While reflecting on his guilt, he realises he fucked up and he knows he’s an idiot for messing up what he had with the reader and feels determined to make things right. However, he digs himself deeper when he decides not to tell the reader out of fear and the belief that bc the other girl meant nothing to him and bc he’s never going to do it again, there’sno need for her know (which is obv a bad move, but is incredibly on brand for a teenaged boy imo).

He gives her the promise ring the following month as a way of showing her that he’s committed now and in it for the long run. He also does it as a way of affirming to himself that he’s not going to fuck up again.

I chose to add the detail of the reader losing the ring around the time she finds the bra and then finding it again before she’s Vecna’ed bc I wanted the ring to sort of signify Steve being ready to commit to the promise to her and the reader being in an emotionally secure and mature enough position to trust him to do it.

This couldn’t have been in May 1985 after graduation when he first gave it to her. Working through the cheating and then the aftermath of Starcourt was necessary for both of them.

I completely understand not forgiving or taking back cheaters, however when it comes to young love I feel slightly empathetic when it comes to making these kinds of stupid decisions.

In terms of the folklore love triangle, I interpret things a little differently. I’ve always pictured Betty and James as being in a somewhat long term relationship in high school where they know each other extremely well but he feels a sense of inadequacy, while she has been made to feel like an old cardigan by most of the people in life except for him.

I used to be James’ #1 hater, but I think as I’ve grown and as I’ve thought more about it, I look at it all a little more forgivingly. Obv cheating is and should never be excusable, but I think when you put yourself in the position of a 17-year old falling in love and navigating relationships for the first time, it’s easier to rationalise the dumb choices inevitably made.

In Steve’s case, I characterise him as being someone who has a plethora of insecurities and fears that he tries to hide. In the first part of ‘Cardigan’, I briefly talk about how his whole issue with feeling secure in their relationship is partly because all his relationships were fleeting. He struggles with trusting Y/n when she says he loves him and with believeing that their relationship is going to last even when high school is over and all he has is a job at Scoops Ahoy.

He only begins to do this when its too late.

Also, I know I never really wrote it out but when the reader finally finds out Steve cheated, she barely speaks to him for the first half of the summer (and the few times she does she’s ripping him a new one). They don’t really start talking again until their forced into helping Dustin investigate further into the mall. Then when they’re both talking in the bathroom while recovering from the truth serum and the scientists, they start to unpack what happened and how much it hurt her. While she doesn’t necessarily forgive him yet, she’s beginning to get there.

Then when Hopper ‘dies’, the reader is back to avoiding Steve. It’s not until he shows up at her doorstep when El and the Byers have left town that she actually begins to forgive him and Steve begins to go easy on himself. This continues to build over time as she processes her grief and deals with the aftermath of it all while Steve remains steadfast at her side.

Tbh, when I planned the first part of this series I knew I wanted to double down on how both Steve and the Reader struggled with love, relationships and heartbreak because of their rocky relationships with their parents.

The line “I knew you, leaving like a father” always made me feel some type of way bc heartbreak can feel all the more piercing when you’re young and when you’ve already been burned by someone you loved before.

I hope that answers your question! I do have a few more parts lined up to wrap up this series, so hopefully they’ll be able to fill in the gaps further 💗

[jaskierswolf]

No Regrets

A noble!Jaskier A/B/O arranged marriage fic for @greyduckgreygoose as part of a server exchange. - AO3

Ship: Jaskier x Aiden

Rating: E

Length: 2.8k

CW: Smut, Alpha Aiden/Omega Jask, scent kink, fingering, oral sex, penetrative sex, knotting, mating bites

_

If there was one thing in life that Jaskier regretted, it was that he was a noble. Without the ties of his blood, being an omega wouldn’t be so bad. He could have chosen his own alpha, been happily mated if he wished, or stayed free and wild as he roamed the Continent to his heart’s desire. As a child he’d declared that he would be a travelling bard or a merchent, renouncing all claim to the stupid title that now bound his dear sister to the estate. He’d dreamed of his life as a barker to some witcher or other adventurer, strumming tunes on his lute and spreading his music all across the Continent.

A pipe dream.

Jaskier didn’t even regret being an omega. It was actually quite thrilling, the sex was easier with the slick he produced and the desperation his heats brought was really quite incomparable. There was nothing quite like getting fucked within an inch of his life and knotted by some strapping alpha, lost in orgasm after orgasm until he quite literally passed out.

He knew the real thief of his freedom was his blood, his nobility, his dear old parents caught in their archaic ways. Only, now he was to be married to some mysterious alpha that had saved his father’s life a few weeks ago and Jaskier was kicking up a fuss, purposely not looking his best for the wedding. His neck was littered with hickies from a rather lovely beta he’d fucked the night before, but when the alpha, his alpha, walked into the room, Jaskier regretted every decision he’d made that morning.

The bastard was handsome, unbelievably so, and he was wild. Jaskier had been expecting some stuck up noble alpha that only cared about the pups Jaskier could provide, but, oh, ho, ho, gods, this man was a work of art! Long dark hair was pulled back into a messy half updo, long waves falling down past his shoulders. He had tanned skin, covered in scars, from what Jaskier could see, a particularly nasty one striking along his left eye and cutting into his cheek, but gods, those eyes… startling gold like the sweetest honey. Most interesting were his clothes, pretty dark blue garments that Jaskier could have sworn were armoured, and a hood resting on his shoulders. He seemed to be unarmed but something in Jaskier’s gut told him that the man was still dangerous, and that thought had him pressing his thighs together as he felt another rush of slick escape him.

The alpha’s nostrils flared and those gorgeous molten eyes met his from across the room. Jaskier felt as though he had been hit by lightning as he basked in the heat of his alpha’s stare. From beside him, Jaskier heard his mother gasp, the bitter scent of her anger clouding the air, but it was far too late for mother dearest to back out now.

Jaskier was going to marry a witcher!

Maybe his plans of travelling the Continent hadn’t been so far fetched after all. Destiny had truly blessed him on this day, he would be free from the society he hated so much, travelling by this fine specimen’s side until death.

Oh, ho, ho!

He was thrilled.

The alpha didn’t seem too displeased either as he winked at Jaskier from across the room, his tongue flicking out to lick his lips. The man bowed deeply to Jaskier’s parents but there was something in his manner that made Jaskier laugh. There was nothing sincere in his greeting, and the Viscount of Lettenhove knew this, that much was clear from the sneer on his face, the nasty curl of his lips.

And oh didn’t that make Jaskier’s victory all the sweeter. He wondered what the alpha had done or said to convince his old man to give up his only son, and a precious omega to boot. Jaskier supposed a life debt was hard to argue against.

The witcher seemed like a bit of a cad, all flirty winks and mockery of nobility that made Jaskier swoon, his knees buckling a little underneath him under the heavy musk of the alpha’s scent. Slick soaked through his underclothes and he wriggled uncomfortably, his hands itching to slip beneath his breeches and tease at his cock, his hole, anything that could relieve him of the aching arousal in his gut. The alpha let out a wave of pheromones, calming Jaskier’s mind and subduing him. Even his poor mother seemed to relax beside him, but the strong scent of alpha, had his father growling low in his chest. The deluded fool, as if he could take on a witcher, although he probably knew he couldn’t and that was the only reason Jaskier was allowed to marry this god of a man.

“You came,” Lord Alfred of Lettenhove hissed through gritted teeth.

To Jaskier’s surprise, the alpha just laughed, one hand resting on his hips. “I told you I would. I don’t lie, human.”

“Not my son, Alfred, please. You can’t give my son to a witcher!” Jaskier’s mother begged, falling to her knees in front of her husband. “Anyone but a witcher, I’ll even agree to that lass from Nilfgaard, please, alpha.”

It was a pitiful display, one Jaskier hadn’t expected from his mother, but one that truly showed her desperation. Jaskier almost felt sorry for her…

Almost.

“What’s done is done, mother, now please, introduce me to my new husband!” Jaskier trilled happily, subconsciously baring his neck to the stranger that he was about to bind himself to, eyeing up the cat head on the silver chain around the witcher’s neck.

He’d heard rumours about those witchers; feral, insane… assassins.

Gods, Jaskier was weak.

He always had liked an alpha that could tear him in two, but it was rarer than it should have been. Jaskier was not a timid and fragile omega, in fact most people that met him confused him for a beta at first. He had a less sweet and floral scent than most omegas, and his chest was covered in thick dark hair that was almost unheard of even in male omegas, but he liked to feel small and dainty once in a while.

“Julian, I presume,” the witcher greeted, reaching out his hand which Jaskier gladly took, his heart fluttering as his alpha kissed his fingers with a surprising amount of grace. Heat prickled over his skin, as their eyes met, and that thick scent of alpha arousal almost had Jaskier on his knees, ready to worship this man’s cock in front of the entire household.

As it was he was barely able to suppress a moan, as the alpha brought Jaskier’s wrist to his neck, pressing it against the scent gland, making Jaskier whine softly at the gentle waves of pleasure that rolled over him. Fuck, the bastard was going to trigger his heat two weeks early at this rate. He bit his lip as he let his gaze roam over the Alpha’s body, hot and heavy.

“My friends call me Jaskier,” he shot back with a wink.

“And what about your husband?”

Jaskier smirked, “Darling, you can call me whatever you like.”

“Julian, you’re being indecent!” his mother snapped, scandalised in a manner that only nobility could manage.

Jaskier scoffed, “I am talking to my future husband, the man that daddy dearest picked out for me. Although,” Jaskier smirked as he turned to face the witcher, “he has been terribly rude and not even told me his name.”

“Darling, you can call me whatever you like,” the alpha winked and Jaskier gasped, stumbling back in mock offence, “but my name is Aiden.”

After that, the wedding went off without a hitch, all the necessary paperwork being completed, as their hands were tied together. It was sealed by a rather enthusiastic kiss as Jaskier jumped into his alpha’s arms, crashing his lips against his new husband’s in a mess of teeth and tongues, finally getting to inhale the alpha’s scent from up close.

His alpha.

His husband.

Jaskier had never anticipated that he would enjoy even thinking those words, but the look of despair on his parents’ faces made everything worth it. He giggled, taking his new husband by the hand and leading him to his bedchambers, thrilled by the protests from his parents who were trying to stop him from consummating the marriage, but there was no fucking way that Jaskier was going to turn down such a tempting cornucopia of delights.

“Eager, pretty little omega, aren’t you?” Aiden growled, a purr rumbling in his chest as he grazed his teeth over the scent gland on Jaskier’s neck, sending a rush of pleasure through him, slick leaking down his thighs.

“Not what you were expecting, witcher?” Jaskier teased, pulling at the ties on Aiden’s trousers.

“Not some stuck up little prick,” Aiden hummed, groping Jaskier’s arse as he pushed down Jaskier’s breeches, leaving him in just a shirt. One hand moved to run through Jaskier’s chest hair, fingers pinching at his nipples, eliciting a moan from his lips that was better suited to a whore house. “Not exactly the fragile flower you claim to be either, omega.”

“Not as easy to break, alpha,” Jaskier hummed as Aiden’s lips nipped along his neck, teeth pulling at his ear.

His scent, fuck, his scent was almost overpowering, strong, rich, sending all of Jaskier’s reason out of the window to be replaced with the desire to be fucked, knotted, mated. A now familiar tug of pre-heat clouded his mind, his cock aching, his hole empty and wanting. With a soft sigh, he ran his fingers through his own slick before pushing them inside, not nearly enough, but it took the edge off as he rocked against his own hand, pressing his body flush against his alpha’s.

He smirked as he mouthed over Aiden’s scent gland, his husband shivering under his touch. He brought his slick covered hand up to Aiden’s lips and the alpha sucked at the digits with a needy moan, his grip on Jaskier’s waist almost bruising. “Now are you going to talk all day, or are you going to fuck me? It’s been far too long since I’ve had the pleasure of an alpha’s knot.”

Jaskier’s words made something snap in Aiden, a fearsome snarl tearing from the alpha’s throat, and Jaskier was thrown onto the bed, barely able to catch his breath before Aiden’s hands were on him, calloused fingers running through the mess of slick on his thighs before pressing inside his leaking hole. Aiden’s fingers were thicker than Jaskier’s, caressing, searching, stroking until he hit that sweet spot inside of Jaskier, making him keen.

“Mine,” Aiden growled.

Jaskier moaned, bucking up off the mattress, pushing back on Aiden’s hand. “Yours, alpha, my alpha.”

Any other words Jaskier might have said were muffled by a bruising kiss, Aiden’s tongue licking into his mouth fervently. Oh and it was blissful, the alpha’s fingers fucking him so beautifully, until he was a panting mess on the bed, sweat and slick sticking to his skin. The fog of heat ruined him, turning him into nothing more than a whore, begging to be filled, knotted, claimed, and Jaskier barely recognised his own voice, hoarse, wrecked, as he cursed, and pleaded with his alpha. His fingers scraped down Aiden’s back as he thrust against his alpha’s hand, trying to get more, more, more, but Aiden had the patience rivaling the priestesses of Melitele.

Aiden pulled his fingers out, leaving Jaskier feeling so achingly empty, pitiful cries resounding in the bedchamber, howling as he was denied everything he needed.

“Fucking bastard!” he slurred, as his building pleasure eased, leaving him wanting.

“Patience, omega,” Aiden hummed, kissing the corner of Jaskier’s mouth before trailing his lips down Jaskier’s chest, sucking and nibbling at each of his nipples as he passed them, chuckling at the needy sounds Jaskier was making. He pressed soft kisses to Jaskier’s belly, nuzzling at the curve of his stomach almost reverently until Jaskier huffed, threading his fingers through his alpha’s hair and pushing his head down further. Finally, Jaskier was rewarded with his alpha’s lips around his cock, hot and wet and oh so good.

Jaskier didn’t know many alpha’s who would suck their omega’s cock, but this gorgeous stranger, seemed more than content to get lost in Jaskier’s pleasure, purring around Jaskier’s cock as if he were the most beautiful thing in the world. His fingers gripped at Jaskier’s thighs, keeping them spread as his tongue flicked over the head, lapping up the pre-cum that was leaking from the tip.

But omegas were meant to be filled, and as much as he was enjoying the heat of Aiden’s mouth around him, it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t cum like this, not whilst he was feeling so fucking empty, and gods, he needed to cum, he needed it so much he could barely think of anything else. He whined, writhing underneath Aiden’s ministrations desperate for something else, something more.

“Alpha, I need- I need,” he whimpered, his words cut off by another moan as Aiden’s tongue delved inside him, the alpha moaning into him as he tasted sweet omega slick.

The bastard had the audacity to laugh, nuzzling against Jaskier’s thigh as his lips pressed against the soft tender skin. “What do you need, little omega?” he asked before biting at the skin beneath his lips. There was a sharp pain, the alpha’s fangs not quite breaking skin but enough to hurt in the best possible way.

“F-fuck you!” Jaskier hissed, his cheeks heating up but gods, he would not let his alpha gain the upper hand.

Faster than lightning, Aiden was gone from between Jaskier’s leg, straddling Jaskier’s hips and pinning him to the bed. Fingers threaded through Jaskier’s hair and his head was yanked backwards. “Try again, buttercup.”

“Fuck me, knot me, Aiden, alpha.”

“Better,” Aiden growled, one hand moving to pin Jaskier’s wrists onto the mattress and in one swift movement had pushed inside Jaskier.

The stretch felt so good, pleasure and lustful fire burning through him, as he arched off the bed, keening as their scents mixed around him, soothing his omega, his need to get as close to his alpha as possible. Every thrust had Aiden’s cock buried deep inside him, filling him up until he could see a slight bulge on his stomach, the alpha hitting Jaskier’s sweet spot with every snap of his hips, until Jaskier was crying, tears streaming down his face as he begged for release. His alpha’s hand wrapped around his cock, tiny in comparison, pulling his orgasm from him with a start, sparks flying as he gasped, panting into Aiden’s shoulder, biting down gently as his alpha fucked him through the waves of pleasure, but it still wasn’t enough. He ground back against Aiden’s cock, sounding desperately needy, pathetic. In his heat hazed mind, he wondered how many times he could cum on his alpha’s cock. He wanted that, wanted to please his husband, his alpha, his Aiden. Jaskier would be the prettiest omega, filled with his alpha’s cum. No one would mistake Jaskier as belonging to anyone else. He was Aiden’s now, and there was nothing anyone in the world could do about it.

“Alpha,” he whined, “please. Your knot, I need it, please, fuck… gods, alpha!”

Aiden purred, a deep rumbling in his chest, pressing his lips against Jaskier’s scent gland and nuzzling into his neck until Jaskier melted against his chest, fingers digging into his Alpha’s back. Despite his orgasm, he felt more aroused than he had ever been before, a mantra of alpha, fuck, please, falling from his lips in a dizzying blur, until finally, he felt the press of Aiden’s knot teasing at his rim.

“Gods, yes,” Jaskier moaned. “Knot me, fuck, please, Alpha.”

“My omega.”

“Yours,” Jaskier agreed, “my alpha.”

Aiden growled, his fangs latching onto Jaskier’s neck, turning Jaskier’s world upside down as the mating bond snapped into place in a rush of pheromones and emotions, triggering Jaskier’s orgasm from out of the blue. One moment he’d been blissfully sated on his alpha’s cock, the next pleasure tore through him like lightning, cum spilling over his stomach for a second time as Aiden pumped him full, breeding him, the knot popping into place and tying them together.

“Oh- oh fuck,” Jaskier groaned, falling back against the mattress and Aiden collapsed on top of him, still rolling his hips in shallow thrusts to push the knot deeper inside. “Bloody hell, that was good.”

Aiden snorted, not bothering to lift his head from Jaskier’s chest. “Good?”

“Perfect,” Jaskier sighed, running his hands through Aiden’s hair until the witcher was purring happily, nuzzling against him, murmuring soft praise into Jaskier’s skin.

Perhaps being a noble wasn’t so bad, not when your parents married you off to a gorgeous and charming witcher.

_

Taglist: @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde, @comfyswitcherblanketfort, @fontegagrilledcheese, @dani-dandelino, @dapandapod @unyielding-as-the-sea @officerjennie @feraljaskier @geralt-of-riviass @kueble @gilberik @llamasdumpsterfire

[sunlightwoo]

Run With Hell | Ride Along Prequel

☀︎ pairing: bad boy!sunwoo x fem!reader

☀︎ genre: summer fling au, angst, squints of fluff, bad boy au, lovers to exes au warning: suggestive/sexual language and content, mentions of alcohol and partying

☀︎ wc: 4.1k

☀︎ plot: summer hues may bring in the summer blues, but this one person you spend your summer with just so happens to be the one person that you needed in that moment. instead of the place that he needed to end up being in, he lets you take him back to your place and see where it goes from there, thinking that maybe it might just be a summer bet and nothing more than that. 

☀︎ a/n: this was originally a scrapped idea back from like 2018 and i never brought it back up to surface until recently these last few months actually from when i started planning ride along and then sunwoo’s verse in hate came out, which sparked more ideas!! so i hope you guys enjoy the prequel to it, in which you learn more about the history between Sunflower and Sunwoo’s relationship, even though this is not one of my best oneshots im sorry :( it can be read as a standalone, but it’d be cool if you read this and then ride along if you haven’t read it yet!!

read ride along here!

track one: moonlight | i never knew, you could hold moonlight in your hands

The soft breeze of the summer winds blew past your hair, your arms wrapped around yourself as your eyes were trained on the scenery in front of you. Comforts of the beach seem to have always made you calmer than you have been, and you think that these last two years of your life had been a fever dream considering the roller coaster of events that you have been through. 

You remember waking up in a hospital the night that your brother, Jacob, had an important race to compete in, and because of that, you didn’t want to break his winning streak by being bad luck. The moments prior to that were unable to be recalled for as the only reliable information you can get was from the doctor, explaining that you had consumed something before you had blacked out that had made you almost comatose, if it weren’t for someone that had saved you that night. 

There were often times where you thought about what had happened at that exact moment, but it didn’t distract you from where your mind had been leading you the following day when you were discharged already because of Jacob. You weren’t sure where he had gone that moment, but all you could remember was reading a note with his scribbles that mentioned where he had left it.

A final decision that he had to decide on with a gig that he had gotten for his music career was what he had been working on, and you couldn’t be happier for him. That following morning, you found yourself at the cafe that was across from where you were staying temporarily, eyes darting across the beautiful cursive chalk that was written on a board for the menu, and you couldn’t help but feel like there were a pair of eyes that were stuck onto you. 

With a quick glance around the shop, even if there wasn’t a line behind you, you noticed a guy that sat by the window with his eyes trained onto yours. An accidental eye contact, you might’ve thought to yourself as the handsome stranger had given you a small smirk across his lips, but you have already turned back around to quickly place an order for a tea that was taken to go. 

You had known who he was, considering his name was already spread among the city that you lived despite it being your summer before your first year of college. How it had easily slipped from your own tongue if anybody were to ask you, who is the biggest playboy that is known in your graduating class, and it had to be him. If it weren’t for the fact that he had an overpowering aura that radiated from him, then maybe you would’ve gotten to know him more.

But you didn’t want to, because you knew what guys like him were like.

It was guys like him that made you want to hide away into the comforts of your personal safety net because you knew he was too beautiful and confident to be good. A chaotic driven force that you think was meant to be encountered with was what he had seemed like, ready to clash into your lawful good that the more that you thought about it, you wondered what more of him was like if you were to say hello. 

Now it was a little over a year later in the summer before your junior year of college and you think that it’s comical that somehow the same stranger had caught your heart. After a semester and a half of trying to win you over as a friend throughout your first year, he was able to convince you that maybe hanging out one spring night at the beach wouldn’t be too bad, right?

“Sorry I’m late, Sunflower. Got stuck trying to find a way to park the car without dealing with some asshole again.” 

Your eyes look up to meet the same warm ones that welcomed you as the red hair he had coated this time around seemed to have blended in with the night sky. He takes a seat next to you and wraps his arms around his knees that were being hugged close to his chest, until he takes a look over to you once more with a soft smile on his face. 

“It’s okay, Sunwoo. I haven’t been here that long anyways.” You reply quietly, giving him a smile back as you bit back everything that was on your tongue. 

You had already been there for almost two hours waiting for him, collecting your thoughts as you wondered what the two of you were in that exact timing. There were times where you wanted to just kiss him as a way to shut him up whenever he rambled or said something dumb, but there were also the mixed signs that made you wonder if he had ever thought about you the same way that you did in the past two years.

One too many shared secrets and kisses were often exchanged, but the two of you had always remained friends with too many benefits as you found your way back to the other. It was almost as if you were magnets, opposites that attracted to another and now you were trying to find a way for it to make sense under the moonlight that was brightly shining tonight above you.

“Can you sing me a song, bubs?”

His eyes turn to look at you, who had been staring at him after breaking away from your own thoughts, as he nods in response and opens his arms for you to find your place in them. He wraps his arms around you securely, holding you close to his chest as the soft voice that came from his throat produced a sweet song that you easily recognized as one that he had told you about for a while. 

It felt like you were being put under a sleeping spell as you looked at him, wondering how even under the moonlight, he was almost the most ethereal being in the world. It was as though he was carrying that luminescence in his hands and placed it above his head at all times, making sure that whenever you needed to just be held, he was there to do so for you; another reason why you were so conflicted with what you both had.

However, maybe it was after a confession or two after that soft lullaby that it ended up being enough for you. Maybe being with him was enough for you, and for that you had also regretted it at the same time, because you knew that you were in for a ride with hell’s spawn.

track two: sometimes | cause we’re collecting moments, tattoos on my mind

“Are you ready for our getaway?” You hear someone say behind you and turn to look at Sunwoo, who had been standing at your front door for a moment now. 

It was the hot morning of July first after a long night being with him, and it was a spontaneous decision to head out on a little road trip away from the city. You wanted to go to the seaside, you had told him just hours prior, and he had told you about a little place that he used to stay whenever he was in a mood to go on vacation and escape the realities of the world.

So you packed your bags and were ready to go as you walked up to him with a big smile on your face, one that mirrored his own as he pulled you close. By placing his hand against your lower back, the space between you both becomes almost invisible as he pecked your lips in just a quick second, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the sudden action that came from him.

Even after a month or so of dating, it still felt like you were floating on cloud nine despite the fact that you had been doing this for two years or so already. Being with him felt like you were able to conquer on the world, and you knew that might not stay long despite the shared whispers of the cursed eight letters that were often said when you spent nights together.

You wanted to tattoo every moment that you were with him into your mind, because from then until now it had only felt like you were living in a daydream. He had given you nothing but love and made you happier than you would’ve imagined making yourself, but you were okay with also accepting the fact that it might not last long considering there were often times where you might clash thoughts and argue.

By the time that you both made it to where you were staying, you were amazed with how elegant it looked on the inside, despite the fact that it seemed smaller on the outside. You think that maybe you were in a movie as you looked around, but it wasn’t until you turned around to see Sunwoo being busy on his phone that you wondered if this mini getaway was going to be worth it.

“Everything okay, bubs?” You ask while putting down your stuff, sitting on top of your bag as he gives you a small smile before nodding in response. 

To him, he thinks that you are one of the most beautiful things as the sun was practically shining on your face as it seeped through the large glass windows of the house. It’s almost amazing that he found himself falling for you quickly, but he wonders how much of that smile will last on your face before he does something to mess it all up. 

He wants to tattoo the moments where he’s able to make those smiles on your face with his sincerity, the him that he wants to be with you rather than the person that he decides to be to everyone else. Yet somehow, there was something about your innocence to him that made him want more than just what you had then and now, but he was scared of what he might become if had actually gotten it all for himself.

“Yeah, everything’s okay. Let’s go sleep for a bit before we spend the night having fun, hmm?”

track three: bad decisions | You've become my favorite sin so let 'em keep on talking

He knows that he isn’t good for you.

His reputation of being the residential bad boy was no match for your heart, and you both knew that. After spending the first two weeks getting to know the ins and outs of the bay, you made some quick friends even though you spent a majority of your time back at where you were staying with Sunwoo. The way that his hands had always felt like fire on your skin was exhilarating as every kiss you shared was more intoxicating than the last. 

You could tell that he was getting tired of it already, because you’ve noticed that the fire that was once in his eyes was dying out, and you were scared of it. Even his words of reassurance of loving you and for not leaving your side by then was made, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to trust his words every time that he spoke of them. 

“Are you sure that you’re in love with me?” You whisper after the highs and frustrations that were spent into what you had done earlier had been let out. 

The two of you had argued about how he never seemed to have paid more attention to what you were doing when the two of you were out at the street markets today, his phone seeming more important than exploring the depths of shops that were opened by small businesses. You confronted him about it, thinking that maybe he was involved with someone else and that you were just wasting your time putting your love into a relationship that was one sided. 

However that wasn’t the case, as he told you that one of his friends was updating him on a situation that involved their family.

“Why wouldn’t I love you?”

Those toxic eight letters felt so foreign at the tip of his tongue as he looked at you, who laid your head on top of his chest. He didn’t know what love was, and he felt like the biggest jerk for also leading you on knowing that in the end, he was going to leave. He wasn’t sure when he was going to do it, but he knew that you were slowly catching onto his plan, and he hated himself for making you feel as though you weren’t enough for him to stay. 

He wants to give you the pain that he had felt once in the past, and ruin the sweet innocence that you held in your eyes. He’s heard stories about you as well, the same way that you had heard stories about him, and he knew then that there was something about the way you talked and expressed your beliefs that made him want to be indulged into you more. 

“We don’t feel the same anymore.” You whisper, eyes meeting him as the moonlight that used to capture his eyes so perfectly seemed as though it was dying out. 

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you watched him stay silent for a moment, his eyes still looking into yours but he still held you close to his heart. He doesn’t know what to say at all and he regrets it a little more for dragging you into this game that he started playing with his own heart on his sleeve, but he doesn’t know when he should stop, because to him, it feels like this game that he made was still not done yet. 

But he can’t find the heart to tell you to run, before he can do it.

“I promise I’ll love you more than I should be loving you. You’re my sunflower, the same way that I’m your sunshine, and it’ll stay that way.” 

track four: leave me lonely | you’re a dangerous love, maybe you’re no good for me

It was a little over a month into your getaway, and it feels emptier than it was when you first started the entire trip.

The nights that you shared together were less filled with meaningful words and actions, but more filled with moments that were there to make the empty void that was present full with whatever you two had wanted to do. You could tell that he was on the verge of just walking out the front door and leaving you because of how the increasing arguments that were made continued to be more present, and you could’ve sworn that if he wasn’t going to be the first to leave, then you would. 

It was another occurrence tonight where you had gone out to eat as a date, since you wanted to fix what might’ve been missing these last few weeks of summer that you might’ve not done. However, it didn’t happen to work as you noticed how Sunwoo was already preoccupied on his phone almost the entire time, and you were fed up by the end of the night as he was driving you both back home and he had taken the time to text back whoever it was that seemed more important than you, who had been nothing but patient the entire night.

“Am I seriously not fun anymore, that you’ve spent the entire date texting whoever it is on the other end?” You half jokingly asked while turning to him, watching as he had given you a confused look on his face while the two of you were waiting for the traffic light to turn green to go. 

“I haven’t been texting someone the entire time-”

“Then what did we do today, besides eat at the restaurant because we sure as hell didn’t talk the entire time that we were there.” You retort, the joking tone that was previously in your tone no longer there as he looks at you for a split second before putting his phone into the cup holder that was between you both in silence. 

The green light finally switches and he drives again as you could tell that he knew you were right, the silence overbearing you both as neither of you spoke afterwards. You wanted him to bite back, but you couldn’t help but be impatient this time around with what he had to say, because he always seemed to brush it off these days about what he has been doing when he wasn’t with you, or when he leaves mid-argument and comes back the next morning making it up.

“You’re just overreacting, don’t worry about it, Y/N.” 

He hasn’t called you by your name in a while considering he had only been calling you by Sunflower for a long time now. It was almost like whiplash as you stared at him, who was now driving back to your place with the night sky behind him and you wondered what you had even done wrong when you were just wondering who he would keep texting. 

Maybe he was cheating on you and he didn’t want to admit it, you think to yourself as you curled up into a ball in your seat and looked outside your window to hide the pain that was present in your heart. Was there could’ve been something that you might’ve done wrong that could just made him bored throughout the last two years that you’ve known each other, where it was you that might’ve been in the mess up stance?

That night, you couldn’t even remember whether or not you have slept properly considering he didn’t sleep with you, but rather slept on the couch in the living room. 

Was this what the start of heartbreak was like?

track five: touch it | Why do you say you want me, then tell me you're not coming in?

“How long have you been lying to me about everything?” 

Tears were pricking the corners of your eyes as you stared at the individual in front of you with your heart on your sleeve, wondering what his next move was. Your throat was raspy from how much you were yelling out of anger and frustration earlier, and you wanted to know how long you had been playing his game.

“Two years.” He replies, his facial expression never faltering as his hands were in his pockets and eyes boring into your own. 

His phone was placed on the couch beside you as you had found his texts with his best friend about how being with you was all for a bet of money; and he had won. All he had to do was to make you play his game and purposely break your heart, only to win some sort of prize that he would win at the end, but at what cost.

“I didn’t mean anything to you, did I?” You whisper as you cross your arms in front of your chest, waiting to hear whatever else he had to say, but you couldn’t help but wipe away the stray tears that were already falling down the apples of your cheeks. 

Yes, you meant everything to me, he wants to say as he looks into your heartbroken eyes, and he was willing to give up everything to walk over to where you were to wipe your tears for you. But there was also the thrill in his blood that made him feel a bit prideful that he succeeded in being the asshole that he made himself out to be to everyone but you. 

He had won the game, he acknowledged and it was over for him but he also knew that there was just a little bit of guilt that still lied inside of him. He doesn’t know what to say as he watches you start to crumble in front of him internally, and he knows you’re tired of all the lies that he had been feeding you since the first day. 

So he had decided on running away after he said his last words, because like you had predicted, he was hell’s spawn that loved creating a chaotic masterpiece. As much as you hated him in the moment, he knew that you wouldn’t be able to let go for a bit, and maybe this was his chance to leave so that he doesn’t have to think about you anymore. 

And he does as he walks away with the wind as he closes the door on you both, leaving with the sounds of his car already leaving and you know that he wasn’t coming back. 

You think that it’s your fault anyways for wanting to believe in what you had was genuine, with every time that he had said it was true. But like you thought in the first place, where guys like him wouldn’t last, was true, because now you were in the place that held everything that reminded you of him. You wanted to trash the beautiful pain that was in front of you, but you also felt numb at the same time, not wanting to do anything but to just mourn the stained heart that was on the sleeve of your arm. 

It was there for the world to see; tainted with toxic love that only you had for him, and it was now spilling out with his last words echoing in your head.

“I never loved you in the first place, because you were only just a game to win.”

bonus track: lovesick girls

The loud silence of the crackling fire resonates in your ears as you stare at the burning car that was less than 50 feet in front of you. Your knees were tucked into your chest as you stared at it, wondering where it all began to go wrong as the numbness of your heart continued to stay there. He had been gone for weeks, as you had expected him to run away for that long, and you hated yourself for falling for a guy like him in the first place. 

He was intoxicating, addicting; the one person that you had given your entity to, only to have it crumble up in the palm of his hands. 

You hated him and knew that this would be the last time you’d ever want to see him, since you were going to start going back on track with your goals and dreams. Starting next week you were set to start the fall semester into your junior year of college as it was now almost mid September and ready to run for the life that you wanted to have from the start of the summer before you had met him. 

You think to yourself that maybe it was him that had ruined it all, or maybe a piece of you didn’t want to admit that it was also your own for not being cautious enough. The entire summer felt like you were running with the devil himself, and that the air you were breathing in now, the very one that you can finally collect your thoughts in, were your moments of freedom as you blinked back the tears of the memories that had played in your mind of last night that ended it all. 

“All you ever did was run away from us in the first place, Sunwoo-”

“And I was wrong for doing it, that day that I walked out and left,” He says and you could see his eyes glimmer with what seemed like sincerity in the form of tears, just as the sun that was setting around you both began to make your skies darker than they were before. 

“But that doesn’t mean that I regretted walking out, because I knew that we would’ve only hurt each other more if I had stayed.”

The silence that was overtaking you both was faster than that as your eyes continued to lock onto one another’s. You weren’t sure what you wanted to do in this situation, because you very much so loved him and all his imperfect beauties. However it felt like he was the constant fire that was burning your skin with every touch that he was able to make, and you didn’t want to be a part of that cycle that would continue with him, especially after finding out about his bet with his best friend at the most. 

So in retaliation, you did what you should’ve done in the first place, resent and ignore him, as you knew that this should be the last time that you see him again in this life. 

“Then I think you should just leave for good then, Sunwoo. Don’t ever try to find me again, and if you do... we will never do us again.”