#I saw the musical last month and I’m so obsessed

[cuubism]

last year I saw this 1989 Dreamling art by @webonchin, became extremely obsessed with it, pondered and mulled over it for much time, and now ten whole months later I have a fic

--

my kingdom for a kiss upon your shoulder

Chapters: 1/3 Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling, Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Hob Gadling Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Human, 1989 Hob Gadling and Dream of the Endless | Morpheus Meeting, Musician Dream of the Endless, Stockbroker Hob Gadling, Love at First Sight, Getting Together, New York City, Alternate Universe - 1980s, Queer Themes, Disillusionment, Explicit Sexual Content, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Depression, tfw you meet someone who makes you want to change up your whole life Summary:

Despite Hob's success on Wall Street, life is starting to feel meaningless. Limitless sex, drugs, and money should be endlessly entertaining but instead he's bored, he feels empty, like something's missing.

Something, maybe, like the beautiful, tragic musician he meets at a party, who opens more than one new door in Hob's life--and reawakens the buried longing in his heart.

--

Hob lies on the couch of the crowded apartment he’s found himself in for the evening, head tipped back over the arm. Pounding music thumps distantly around him. Dim lights. Warm bodies moving in blurs. He ignores it all. Picks up his vodka soda from the coffee table and takes a swig. Half of it runs over the side of his mouth instead of into it.

He’s… bored. What’s wrong with him that he’s bored surrounded by as much drugs, sex, and general debauchery as he could possibly want?

But he is. All that climbing for so long and now… he doesn’t know where he is. Why he’s doing any of it. The climb, the growth, was fun for a while. Chasing hunger, chasing more, that was fun. But now he has all of it. Supposedly.

He sighs. Pours the rest of his drink inelegantly into his mouth. If he wants another one he’s going to have to get up. He doesn’t really feel like getting up. He feels like merging himself with the couch instead.

The party spins on around him, as it always does. Not everyone’s feeling as burnt out on sex, drugs, and debauchery as Hob is.

He could go track down some coke, he thinks hazily. Someone here’ll have some. Maybe it would kick his energy back up.

He just feels kind of tired at the thought.

It says something bad about the point he’s reached in life that even cocaine isn’t doing it for him anymore.

“This is very dull,” says a low voice, and a man slumps down beside him, sitting on the floor and leaning back against the couch. He tilts his head back, looking up at Hob. “Do you think so?”

“Yeah,” Hob says, and then does a double take as he catches a proper look at the man.

Christ but he’s gorgeous. Nothing like the men Hob would normally see at a thing like this—nothing like Hob himself—with their fashionable suits, slick hair, slicker smiles. This man is lithe and sprawling, like a wild predator, stark black and white lines, spiky hair, dark makeup, studs flowing down his ears like raindrops. Clever eyes. Long fingers clutching a cocktail that he doesn’t seem particularly interested in.

Hob is instantly fucked.

“I was promised good drugs and better sex and I’m bored on both counts,” the man continues. He takes a sip of his drink, and grimaces.

“That why you’ve come over here?” Hob asks. “Because I looked equally bored?”

“Exactly.” He offers the drink to Hob. “You should try this.”

Hob takes it. It’s… very blue. “What the hell is this?”

“There was a girl working the bar… very drunk. She said she would make me her ‘special potion.’”

That sounds… questionable. Hob takes a sip, and chokes. “Christ.”

“I witnessed her pour in vodka, Prosecco, and tequila. Blue Curaçao—for color, of course. And maraschino cherries.” He plucks one out of the glass by the stem—there are about seven of them total—and eats it.

“What the fuck.” The stuff’s revolting. Hob takes another sip. “That’s alcohol poisoning in a glass.”

“It’s been one of the better parts of the night,” the man says.

Hob returns the glass, and the man tosses more of the drink back, his throat working. Hob’s just drunk enough to not attempt to stop staring like a creep. He wants to ask him if he wants to get out of here, or even just to steal away into one of the many spare bedrooms—it wouldn’t be out of place at a party like this, hell, Hob could drag him into his lap on the fucking couch, everyone’s far too drunk to care—but propositioning this creature for a mere hookup feels like wearing an Italian suit to mud wrestle. What a waste of a perfectly-made thing.

How did something like this wind up at this party?

“Who’d you come in with?” he asks, as the man plucks another cherry from the glass and delicately bites it off the stem.

“Someone who gave me a rather mediocre blowjob after a show,” he says. “I suppose I thought I would find better here, but I was mistaken.”

“Fifty-fifty shot on that, I’d say,” Hob says. Based on personal experience. Sometimes mediocre is good enough. Sometimes sex, regardless of quality, is good enough. For a while it has been. He’s not so sure anymore.

“I dislike betting,” says the man. Then stretches up a limp hand to shake Hob’s. “If we are to commiserate, perhaps names are in order. I am Morpheus.”

Morpheus. What kind of name. Though he had said at a show. A performer of some kind? “Hob,” says Hob, shaking his hand despite the awkward angle.

“Greetings,” says Morpheus solemnly. “You are the first man I’ve met tonight who has not tried to impress me with inanities. I am indebted to you.”

Hob tips his head back against the arm of the couch again with a sigh. “Too tired for bullshit. What’ve people been saying to you, then?”

“I have been taught much,” Morpheus says seriously. “Thrice I have been ‘educated’ on the great promise of ‘mortgage-backed securities.’ The reactions to my disinterest ranged from offense to outright concern for my sanity.”

“I think they were just trying to get in your pants,” Hob tells him.

Morpheus frowns. “The finance lecture was not helping their case. In fact, with each passing minute, I became more aggressively repelled.”

Hob laughs. “You’re on Wall Street, baby,” he says. It comes out kind of slurred. “Only thing more important than the size of a man’s dick is the size of his portfolio.”

Morpheus hums in consideration. “Neither of those has a direct correlation to talent.”

“Try telling them that,” Hob says.

Morpheus sits up straighter against the couch, leaning his head on his arm to study Hob. “I suppose I should ask about yours.”

“You’re too pretty for me to be tacky like that,” Hob says honestly. Maybe he’s a bit more drunk than he thought.

“Am I?” Morpheus seems pleased.

“So pretty.”

“Hmm.” Morpheus rests his cheek on the couch cushion. The tips of his hair brush Hob’s hip. His eyes are so liquid in this light. Hob wonders if he’s hallucinating his existence.

He reaches out, mesmerized, to touch Morpheus’s hair. Morpheus doesn’t stop him. He lets Hob pet him, eyes falling shut. His hair is tacky on the ends with hair spray, but soft underneath.

“I’ll tell you a secret,” Hob says, and Morpheus hums. “All those self-important stockbrokers trying to impress you with their convoluted financial instruments… they just want to hide that it’s all really a scam.”

“Is it now?” says Morpheus. “I was under the assumption it was legal.”

“Something can be a scam and technically legal. Oh, it’s all very clever. But it’s just building money on top of money with nothing real to support it. Kick out the base of the tower and it’ll all go into free fall.” He makes a whistling, falling sound, and Morpheus smirks.

“And I suppose you are better than all this.”

Hob chuckles. “Oh, no. I’m a money-grubbing little vermin, too. Just letting you in on the game. How it’s not so serious.”

“Hmm. I am a musician,” says Morpheus. As Hob figured, then. “I’m afraid it’s as serious as death.”

“Hence the all-black ensemble and the makeup,” Hob says.

“Indeed.”

Hob wants to hear Morpheus play. Or sing, or whatever it is he does. He bets he’d be exquisite. Divine. Hob can imagine those lips pressed to a microphone. Or those long fingers on guitar strings.

“Do you want something more interesting than alcohol?” says Morpheus.

“Why, you still bored?”

“Less and less so.” He pulls from his pocket a small bag of pills and hands it to Hob.

“You brought your own drugs to a party where you were promised drugs?”

“Promises cannot be counted on,” says Morpheus seriously.

“What is it?” Hob asks, then decides he doesn’t care, and takes a pill, chasing it with the watery last drops of his drink, which is a terrible idea, but then, he’s full of them.

“Ketamine,” says Morpheus. Oh, great, Hob thinks. Morpheus takes it back from him and takes a pill himself. “It occasionally makes me feel less like I am going to hurl myself from the balcony.”

He doesn’t seem to be joking. “Good for something, then,” Hob says. “Why do you want to jump off the balcony?” He still has his hand in Morpheus’s hair. He honestly can’t believe he hasn’t propositioned him yet. That’s not like him. These parties are usually only good for quick, casual sex. He even thinks Morpheus would probably agree, and yet.

“The state of things,” says Morpheus. He has such a deep, solemn voice. Hob wants to touch his mouth, or throat maybe. Okay, this is already not going so well. “And the state of my heart.”

Hob pets his hair again. Morpheus leans into the touch. “Writing songs about yearning and angst and stuff isn’t fixing it?” He can well enough guess what Morpheus’s music is probably like.

“No,” says Morpheus. He seems to really think about it. “I think it is making things worse. Perhaps I will try manipulating the financial markets instead. Is that giving you existential fulfillment?”

“There’s only so much money you can make before it starts feeling stupid,” Hob says. Maybe he should just throw all his cash out the window and go live in the woods or something. Carve figurines out of fallen trees. Probably do more good for the world, not that that’s ever been a focus of his. “Maybe it was always stupid.”

“No solution has been found for us yet, then,” says Morpheus. “Would you care to go outside? I find that if you are high enough, the city lights look like stars.”

“You’re not going to jump off the balcony, are you?” Hob asks, suspicious.

“This is not the right locale for my dramatic end.”

Somehow, Hob actually believes him. Morpheus wouldn’t truly kill himself unless it could have the right effect.

Hob levers himself up from the couch. Oh Jesus, now the room is spinning. The pounding music is starting to feel louder, starting to thud through him. Feels good, though. Everything being bright and hazy.

He helps Morpheus to his feet. Leads him, hand in hand, out to the balcony. They lean against the stone wall, looking down at the street, dizzyingly far below, cars poking along like lines of luminescent ants, distant horns crying. Then up, out at the collision of skyscrapers.

Morpheus was right. The lights are spinning and twinkling, just like stars. It reminds Hob of the first time he’d come to New York, when he was looking for adventure, and to get a little rich—or a lot rich—and everything had seemed like it was glowing and buzzing and flying.

The air is clearer up here than down on street level, and Morpheus tips his head up, breathing it in. His throat is so long, his shoulders and collarbone so angular. He looks like he’s been starving. But the stud in his ear at least looks from afar like a real ruby. Intentional, then, to be skin and bones.

“I think I am tired,” he admits, still looking up at the sky. “Do you know that… all I had ever wanted was for someone to like my music. And now I have that and it has not fixed anything.”

Hob takes his arm and pulls him close. He’s feeling very touchy-feely now, which could be the drugs but could also just be Morpheus. He’s so pretty and he looks so sad, and his sadness is beautiful and all the more terrible for that.

“I could kiss it better,” he offers. It’s still not a real proposition. Hob’d just kiss his hand if that’s what he wanted. Or the sharp bone of his sternum under those hanging necklaces. Or kneel at his feet and kiss his thigh—

Christ. Hob’ll be lucky if he survives the night, at this rate.

Morpheus looks at him, eyebrow raised. But Hob must look serious about it, because he says, “Okay.”

So Hob leans in and kisses his cheek. And Morpheus smiles, a bright, truly happy smile, just for a moment.

“Do you wish to dance?” he says. “I do not usually, but I feel I may fall over if I move from this wall without something to hold onto.”

Yeah, the floor is kind of moving. And Hob will certainly not turn down having Morpheus in his arms. “You wanna dance to this shit?”

They’re playing some godawful thumping grating song over the speakers now, and Hob doesn’t think either of them is up to the kind of bouncing thrashing dance that would call for.

“I will sing something different in your ear,” Morpheus says.

So Hob draws him in, wraps his arms around his waist. Morpheus plasters himself to Hob’s body, mouth to the shell of Hob’s ear. He starts humming a low, melancholic song. Hob shivers at the brush of his voice.

They sway together with very little coordination. Eventually Morpheus starts singing, though Hob’s brain isn’t capable at the moment of taking in many of the lyrics. It’s something about longing, and losing things in a terrible fire. Hob presumes it’s one of his songs. Morpheus’s voice is gorgeous, low and hypnotic, and Hob closes his eyes as it rumbles straight through him.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs eventually, filled with a sudden tragic pain about it. “Please don’t throw yourself off the balcony.”

Morpheus chuckles. “Another time, perhaps.”

“Never,” Hob says vehemently, and clutches his warm body close. He might cry about it. Fucking drugs. “We should go get food. You’re so fucking bony I think might you die of an overdose if we don’t sop it up. You had that wretched drink, too. Christ.”

“You are worried for me?” says Morpheus, sounding touched.

“Incredibly. Come on.” Hob finally pulls away from him, with chagrin, and takes his hand. “This party’s shit. I’ll take you to get pizza.”

“Pizza,” Morpheus repeats, with a tiny smile. It’s gorgeous on his face. “Very well.”

--

One dollar pizza is one of New York’s greatest inventions, in Hob’s opinion. They find some hole-in-the-wall place barely a block from the apartment building, and stand outside the door, eating incredibly greasy pizza off of paper plates, and it’s fucking heaven. It might be the best pizza Hob’s ever had in his life—granted he’s still very high.

Morpheus is scarfing his down like all pizza on earth is about to be chucked into space. Poor bony thing. Hob just wants to feed him up until he stops looking like a skeletal waif that’s about to drop dead at a cold breeze.

And wants to fuck him, too. Yeah, that’s still there, even with Morpheus licking grease off his fingertips. It’s actually getting worse because of that.

“Told you,” Hob says. “Needed some bread to soak up the fifteen shots in that drink.”

“I think I may throw up,” Morpheus says, with the careful articulation of someone who very well might. “But I am enjoying it nonetheless.”

“Let me know and I’ll find you a bin,” Hob says. He’s had worse nights than puking on the street corner.

“Now I owe you sexual favors in return for this generous meal,” says Morpheus, folding the empty paper plate with surprising precision, considering his enduring level of intoxication, and sliding it into a nearby trash bin.

It says something about Hob’s own level of intoxication that he barely responds to this statement. “Oh, yeah, the whole four dollars of it. What does that get me?”

Morpheus scrunches his nose in thought. “Two kisses,” he decides.

“We’ll save it for after you’ve decided if you’re going to throw up.”

Morpheus giggles. He’s so cute.

Hob tosses his own plate, and takes Morpheus by the arm. “Come on. You can come back with me. I don’t live that far.”

“Ah, now the proposition,” says Morpheus, but doesn’t sound unhappy about it.

“The ‘make sure my new friend doesn’t get hit by a cab effort’, more like, but sure.” He feels kind of responsible for Morpheus now. If Morpheus actually threw himself off a balcony Hob would never forgive himself.

“Friend,” repeats Morpheus, sounding pleased.

“See, isn’t this better?” Hob says.

“Better?”

“You got to eat pizza and didn’t even puke yet, isn’t that better than killing yourself?”

Morpheus huffs. “Quite a dichotomy. If you recall you too stated that you felt your efforts becoming meaningless.”

“Yeah, but I’m not gonna jump out a window about it.”

“Fortitude,” Morpheus says, and it sounds mocking but Hob doesn’t really mind. Maybe it is fortitude, he doesn’t know. Maybe to Morpheus fortitude is gullibility, continuing to play the game when it’s long lost its spark and its reward. Hob likes the game, though.

“What will you do about it, then?” Morpheus asks.

“Dunno.” It’s the first time Hob’s really thought about it. Up until now, it’s been about chasing. Always wanting more. But now— now he’s basically at the top. Where he wanted to be. And... there’s really nothing there at all. “Leave New York, maybe.”

The words surprise him, even as he says them. Midtown is so bright, even at four a.m. It’s something Hob once loved about the area. About the city. But now he’s staring into Morpheus’s darkness. Into the ink stain of his hair against the glowing storefront lights, the sway of his body, graceful even while swimming in dissociation. And everything feels different.

“To go where?” says Morpheus.

“Back to London, maybe.” He has enough money to go anywhere. And yet, it’s hard to feel a particular point to anywhere. Where’d his sense of adventure go? His ambition? Somewhere it all slipped, in the glut of the present.

“I grew up in London,” Morpheus says. “It is too personal there, now.”

So he’s chasing something too. Or running away.

“Tokyo, then,” Hob says, as if Morpheus coming with him is a key part of the decision. “Is’at the furthest city from New York? Gotta be close.”

“It’s Perth,” says Morpheus.

“You’ve looked it up?”

Morpheus nods solemnly. “And from London: Wellington.”

“It’s settled, then,” says Hob.

“I am coming with you?” says Morpheus.

“Course.” Hob’s not going across the world by himself. Not anymore. He bumps his shoulder with Morpheus’s, squeezes his arm where they’re leaning together. “You’re coming with me.”

“We should go further, then,” says Morpheus.

“Antarctica?”

“Mars.”

Hob finds himself giggling, mirth rising in him like champagne bubbles. Morpheus giggles, too. It’s truly a ridiculous sound in his deep voice.

“They don’t have cool jackets on Mars,” Hob says, poking at Morpheus’s studded blazer.

“Ah.” Morpheus frowns. “Maybe not, then.”

That only makes Hob laugh louder, leaning on Morpheus’s arm, and Morpheus sighs, irritated to be made fun of, but doesn’t push him away.

“Come on, I’m here,” Hob says, steering Morpheus into his apartment building as it comes up. They make their way across the lobby and to the elevator bank, only a little unsteady, and then slump against the wall once the elevator doors close.

“I think I am very sleepy,” Morpheus says, tipping his head back against the mirrored wall as they go up, up, up the insanely tall skyscraper Hob’s for some reason chosen to live in.

“You think you are?”

Morpheus squints at the infinite tunnel being created by the opposing mirrors on the walls. It’s dizzying, more so now, when they aren’t exactly sober. He shudders and closes his eyes. “I would have to be connected to my physical form to know for sure.”

Yeah, Hob’s feeling that too. The walls are kind of tipping in at him, which is particularly uncomfortable when they’re mirrored. “I’ll put you to bed, sweetie.” He still really, really wants to bed him, more specifically, but he might also be about to fall over. He’ll rue the missed opportunity in the morning, but it can’t be helped.

“Sweetie,” Morpheus echoes, with vague distaste, and tips his head against Hob’s shoulder.

The doors slide open, and they stumble out into the hall. Hob somehow manages to get his keys in the door and get them inside without dropping Morpheus, who’s now using him to support almost his entire weight, and then gets them into the bedroom.

What follows is a dreamlike whirlwind of undressing, where the floor keeps tipping under him, where he tries to hold Morpheus up as he slips out of his boots and his bloody complicated jacket, his skintight jeans and even tighter shirt, helps take each ring off his slim fingers to leave carefully on the nightstand, and the pendants too, and gives him a t-shirt to sleep in, and Morpheus says, “Wait— I must—” and flees to Hob’s adjoining bathroom to strip off his makeup with some makeup wipes scavenged from Hob’s cabinet, undoubtedly left behind by a prior hookup. The silly thing talks about killing himself but still puts effort into skincare. Hob just shakes his head, then regrets it as it makes the room spin.

He strips down to boxers and undershirt and climbs into bed, because he is actually about to fall over, and soon enough Morpheus stumbles back out and collapses into the sheets beside him. For a moment they just gaze at each other in the dark. Hob means to do something, to kiss him, maybe, claim one of the ones that was promised. But exhaustion claims him first. 

[bothersomedirtchild]

My first contribution to the beetlejuice community

[dumbseee]

she’s everything and he’s just ken.

f1 au: in which, well basically the title. carlos and y/n have been dating for a few months, and carlos can’t stop showing off his beautiful girlfriend to the world.

carlos sainz jr x singer!reader.

fc: becky g.

liked by y/n, landonorris, danielricciardo and 2 008 008 others.

carlossainz55: i love seeing you on stage princesa 💙

_

y/n: seeing you in the audience is what gives me strength mi amor

liked by carlossainz55.

danielricciardo: i literally thought that was a y/n fan page

fan1: the fact that he goes to all her concerts even if he’s busy

fan2: i saw him there he was so sweet! and he was wearing blue to match with her :(

fan3: y/n and carlos are so barbie and ken coded

fan4: he took a whole camera with him to take pictures of her omgg

fan5: carlos is literally a book boyfriend, he can’t be real

landonorris: omg are you joining the jpg gang?

alex_albon: @.landonorris please he’s going to call it y/n.jpg

fan6: but why was he in the audience and not backstage?

carlossainz55: @.fan6 to have a better view ;)

liked by y/n, charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 1 800 087 others.

carlossainz55: congratulations princesa on your first ever american latin music award! (in my opinion you deserved to win all the categories) your voice is my favorite medicine.

_

y/n: omg i love you so much stop

landonorris: you guys are insufferable

carlossainz55: @.landonorris i’m blocking you.

fan1: i want a carlos in my life

fan2: « your voice is my favorite medicine » what if i was sewcidal?

fan3: brb im going to throw myself out of the window

fan4: pls he also went with her at the ceremony 😭

fan5: just get married already

liked by y/n, alex_albon, charles_leclerc and 1 789 097 others.

carlossainz55: i fall in love with you a little bit more everyday.

_

y/n: girls i’m officially head over heels for this man

landonorris: guys i’ve done the maths and out of 3 posts carlos make every week, 2 out of 3 are about y/n

y/n: @.landonorris i can’t believe you can count omg

danielricciardo: this is officially a y/n fanpage

fan1: y/n deserve that level of love tho her last relationship was a disaster so i’m so happy to see her being treated like the princess she is

carlossainz55: @.fan1 queen* but period

fan2: y/n please where did you find him i need a bf like him

liked by carlossainz55, francisca.cgomes, lilymhe and 3 789 821 others.

y/n: i know that we joke a lot about how obsessed this lil guy is, but i thought that it was time for a little carlos appreciation post. first of all, thank you for loving me, we met when i was in a very dark place but you still picked me up from the ground and helped me heal. i’ll always be grateful for that. i love all your little intentions like the flowers you send me every 5th of the month because we met on that date. or when you cook my favorite meal when i’m not in the mood. you’re my bestfriend, my guardian angel, my anchor, my inspiration, my everything. thank you for being you carlos and thank you for loving me the way you do ❤️

_

carlossainz55: you deserve the world and more y/n, the way i’m treating you is the way someone as amazing as you should be treated. i love you more princesa <3

danielricciardo: get a ROOM

landonorris: there is kids on this app!

y/n: @.landonorris you’re past your bedtime lando go to bed.

fan1: i want what they have :(

fan2: these two never fail to make me feel depressed about being single

fan3: i don’t even want a boyfriend but it must be nice to be loved like that

fan4: romeo and juliet who? i only know carlos and y/n

fan5: their relationship is so pure seriously they’re so precious

fan6: they better get married and have kids because if a couple like that ever breakup it’s over for us

[ashwhowrites]

prompts:

“Since when did you ever care about me?!” “Since fucking forever, you idiotic dunce!” 

“You know I’m holding back from fucking you over this kitchen counter, don’t push your luck.”

but like with robin

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Just sex, right?

Y/N and Robin had this friends-with-benefits thing going on. And neither ever asked about what it was or what it meant. The sex was great and it always was. But was it great because there were no feelings or because there were?

Robin struggled with casual sex. All her brain did was wonder what Y/N was thinking and what she felt. Robin is known to ramble on for days, and Y/N would wait until the last word before she kissed her. She listened to Robin, and they had conversations about life, but it ended in bed and that's where Robin couldn't tell what they were. And she was not going to ask, that's for damn sure.

Y/N liked Robin and she made that clear with the dates, the conversations, and the sex. They had been getting to know each other for months and Y/N could feel herself falling for Robin, and that scared but excited her. Y/N was obsessed with Robin. With her short hair, bright blue eyes, her voice - which is why she listened to everything Robin said, her lips, fingers, and everything. Y/N fell in love with every part of Robin. Robin was an addiction and Y/N constantly needed to taste Robin to fulfill the craving. Y/N never announced her feelings, at least not yet. But she felt that Robin felt the same and they were both on the same page.

At least that's what Y/N thought

But now she wasn't so sure as she watched Robin flirt with Vickie in the dim lights.

It was a house party, the music was loud and she couldn't tell a thing Robin was saying. But she knew it was flirting. Their bodies were getting closer and closer and Y/N kept feeling her stomach drop. She wasn't sure how long she'd allow herself to watch and suffer.

She watched as Robin leaned in, her left hand cradling Vickie's cheek the way she always did to Y/N's, and then their lips touched. Y/N felt her throat close up as she struggled to breathe. She felt betrayed and cheated.

But she would not pity herself

She blinked away at her tears, straightening her back and shoulders as she walked straight over to them. Not bothering to hide her anger as she grabbed Robin's arm, yanking her lips away from the redhead.

"ROBIN! WHAT THE HELL!" she screamed over the loud music

Robin looked at her with wide eyes. Vickie awkwardly looked between the two. Robin wasn't sure if she saw jealousy or pain in Y/N's eyes. But the thought of her being jealous made Robin shiver.

"WHAT DID I DO?" Robin asked, nerves in her voice as Y/N glared at her.

"UNBELIEVABLE!" Y/N scoffed, "FORGET THIS," she said, pointing between the two of them as she marched off.

Robin had no idea that kissing someone else would cause a storm, but she needed to follow her. She gave Vickie an apologetic smile and followed Y/N out the door.

"WAIT!"Robin yelled after her, but Y/N kept walking. Unlocking her car she ripped the door open.

"DON'T WANT TO TALK!" Y/N screamed back, she slammed her door and started her car. She turned her head as she heard the passenger door open and Robin's body slid in.

"What do you think you are doing?" Y/N asked, looking at Robin like she was crazy

"I upset you and we need to talk this out. I don't know what we are or where we plan to go. But I'm not leaving it like this. I don't deal well with awkwardness and I can't see you around school and feel my skin crawl as I think of what on earth to sa-" Robin rambled, but Y/N shook her head and sighed.

She locked the doors and began the drive to her house. Letting Robin continue to ramble the whole ride about the same things. Y/N could hear her voice getting higher and squeakier as she continued.

By the time Y/N pulled into the driveway, Robin was short of breath. They got out of the car and Robin followed as Y/N walked inside. The house was dark and quiet, meaning they were alone.

"And I'm sorry," Robin said as she finished her rant. Her blue eyes shined with anxiety. Following Y/N into the kitchen.

"Are you done?" Y/N asked, her arms crossed. Robin gulped at the amount of anger that surrounded her.

"Yes" Robin squeaked

"So what? Do you like her more or something?" Y/N asked, the question came out far more aggressive than she planned. And she wasn't sure if she could handle the answer.

"No!" Robin rushed out, moving closer to Y/N.

"Then why did you kiss her? Why did you kiss her when I was right there? Why didn't you kiss me?" Y/N snapped, her anger clear across her face as Robin tried to keep her breathing stable.

It was a weird feeling. Robin felt scared, but incredibly turned on. The glare Y/N had, with the snarl on her lip and her arms crossed, made Robin's underwear feel wet.

"I..I..um" Robin stuttered, Y/N walked closer. Her head turned as she stared Robin down like she was the prey.

"Well...I don't know"

"Oh?" Y/N laughed, "You don't know why you kissed another girl? Well, I want a Goodman answer so use that smart head of yours and give me one." Y/N demanded. Robin could feel her hot breath smacking her lips. This aggressive and mean side of Y/N truly was far more attractive than she thought.

"I wanted to" Robin blurted out, "I know her from the band and I..well.. sometimes I thought about kissing her so I did. But I didn't know it would make you mad! I swear!"

Y/N clicked her tongue and smirked. She trapped Robin against the kitchen counter and she slammed her hands on either side of Robin's body on the counter. Her palms were red against the cold marble as she pushed her heavy-breathing body against Robin's shaking one.

Robin kept her eyes locked on hers the whole time. She felt like she was in a trance and couldn't look away.

"And why do you think I wouldn't be mad?"

"Because it's just sex between us," Robin said, and that's what she truly thought it was. But she knew her answer was wrong when Y/N's face fell.

"Just sex, huh?" Y/N whispered, she bit her lip as she backed away. Moving herself as far away from Robin as she could. "Glad to know what I finally mean to you after all these fucking months together!" Y/N said, her voice starting to rise.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Robin scoffed, "I don't know what I mean to you! I didn't think you'd care about Vickie because we don't care about each other in that kind of way"

"Don't care?" Y/N said through clenched teeth

"Yes! I mean when did you ever care about me? When you fuck me in a bathroom party and leave with Chrissy?" Robin fought, the memory still in the back of her head. She remembered the pain she felt as she came out of the bathroom to see Y/N's arm wrapped around Chrissy as they left.

"Since fucking forever, you dingus! And I already told you that she got sick and needed a ride home so you can't throw that in my face. I've always cared about you. I put your favorite shirt in the dryer so you have a warm shirt to sleep in. I am there for every hangover you have. I've taken you on dates, to movies, to restaurants, to fairs, and fucking everything you've ever wanted to see. So don't tell me that I don't care when that's all I'VE EVER DONE!" Y/N threatened, her finger in Robin's face as she panted hard.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know...I guess I never...I'm sorry" Robin stuttered as she began to cry. The yelling, the fighting, and everything was getting too much.

"Look Robin," Y/N sighed as she collected herself. "Do you like me? Do you want to be with me?"

"Yes, I do" Robin gasped through her tears, erasing the space between them as she cupped Y/N's face. "I love you and I'm sorry I never said anything. And I'm sorry for tonight and the mess I made. I thought everything was just sex, but I'm wrong!"

"I love you too" Y/N whispered, she realized how close their faces were as she looked down at Robin's wet lips. "I should have said something instead of guessing we were on the same page"

Robin didn't have a chance to respond when Y/N hungrily smashed her lips against hers. Robin moaned as Y/N pushed her against the counter and her hands slipped up Robin's thighs. They messily made out, their tongues clashing as they touched any part of each other that they could.

They pulled away for air, panting as they stared into each other's eyes.

"Definitely a better kisser than Vickie" Robin tried to joke, a testing smile on her face.

She gasped when Y/N's hand wrapped around her throat, and her mouth went against Robin's ear. Her hot breath hit her skin, and Robin whimpered.

"I'm holding back from fucking you over this counter, don't press your luck"

...Robin made sure to press her luck

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

Alastor - [ DEVOTION Pt. 6 ]

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Blame my obsession with K-dramas for how dramatic this last angsty part is. Also, to be clear, I do know some of you head-cannon Alastor as a ‘charismatic psychopath’ because of the way he acts in the show but personally I see him as more of a ‘dynamic sociopath’ while he was alive. I’m telling you this because I know authors tend to depict their faves so out of character just to progress the plot of their stories without any logical reasoning behind it. I am not that type of writer and therefore I don’t think my perception of (Human) Alastor is strange. Anyways, enough from me. Let’s get back to our regularly scheduled broadcast shall we?

WARNINGS: [ MDNI ] + [ MENTIONS & DESCRIPTIONS OF BLOOD / HORROR ] + [ PREGNANCY TROPE…it’ll be over soon I swear…] + [ IMPLICATIONS OF A MISCARRIAGE ] + [ DESCRIPTIONS OF A DEAD BODY ] + [ HEAVY ANGST ]

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On a cozy November evening, the Garden District of New Orleans bloomed with life. Its magnificent houses and mansions stood tall in the late-day sun, and the woeful winter breeze passing through the dazzling neighborhood rustled the greenery lining each home.

Many of the Jazz City’s locals regarded the area as an affluent attraction for outsiders to gawk and marvel at, while those who resided there took pride in its beauty.

You considered yourself fortunate to be a part of such a gleaming community, living a subtle life of luxury due to Alastor's wild success, but not entirely involved with other well-kept wives of similar influential figures.

Socializing had never been your forte; though it was required of you in mannerable situations, the constant exchange of loose friendships with strangers never entirely appealed to you.

Although, being married to a renowned public figure with an image to uphold puts you in compliance with the aversion.

Parties, local events, and even headlining musical performances became your routine social appearance.

Alastor was immensely proud to have you on his arm, charming the masses with your soft approach, swooning the newspapers with your angelic appearance and kind public gestures.

You did your best to make a lovely impression on anyone you encountered, wordlessly adhering to Alastor’s commanding ego and polishing the rough edges of his public image with practiced selflessness.

Few knew you personally, and even fewer saw you as a socialite.

Sure, you'd been polite to anyone who passed on the street, made small talk with neighbors, did charity work for those who thought to ask, and even donated effort towards Rosies spontaneous book club meetings every other weekend -though they were thinly veiled gossip sessions she'd orchestrate with fellow homemakers.

There wasn't a single person you could call a 'friend' who wasn't already close to your husband…

How Rosie had managed to crowd her stunning home with so many familiar yet strange faces, claiming to be precisely that -your friend- baffled you in more ways than one.

Yes, these people were acquaintances and admirers to some degree, but your friends?…

You had none besides Alastor, willing to remain by his side in matrimony just as you had from the moment you met him, reluctant to make any other connections since your shared childhood.

It didn’t help that Alastor developed a habit of scaring away new acquaintances behind your back and even resorted to violent acts of service to keep other suitors at bay before your shared vows.

As a result, the happy faces you saw now felt fabricated; every congratulatory remark didn't resonate with your heart, and the more people that arrived to celebrate you and Alastor, the more lost you felt.

They didn't know you.

No one knew you, but they adored your husband and, in turn, fawned over you.

Liars.

Everyone spouted half-truths, mirroring the ones Alastor had been telling you for months, and your heart grew heavier with each one told.

You could manage seeing him falsify his real identity to the public, to unsuspecting strangers, and to posh parasites.

You could handle being put on a pedestal, seen as the perfect wife, and expected to echo his ideal perception.

Lying to others was child's play, a game you two had grown to love, but Alastor developing the need to lie to you wasn't a tolerable offense.

The party began smoothly; guests swooped in with delightful gifts, either handmade or recently bought from the showcases of New Orleans's finest shops; gentle swing music wafted through the air of Rosie’s lavish two-story home that sat only a block away from your own.

She'd gone to the extreme for the whole ordeal: live music, tantalizing food laid out on tables in the parlor, decorations befitting a small ball neatly adorning the house exterior, and the creme de le creme of Louisiana's socialites filling the guest list.

Alastor uttered nothing but praise for his dearest friend's efforts, thanking her for the collaborative success with a broad smile and chaste kiss.

You followed his gratitude with a gracious nod, content with sitting at your designated table now lined with small gifts from an array of affluent attendees.

"My, Rosie, you've outdone yourself again! You even got Anthony and that grump Husk to show face," Alastor chuckled, eyeing the chattering crowd carefully until his gaze landed on the two opposing men.

Rosie hummed triumphantly, champagne flutes in one hand as the other flicked off an imaginary offense, "Oh, come now, Alastor, you know I'd do my best for the occasion! Everyone in town begged to be here. Not every day they get to meet radio's biggest star and his wife!"

She flashed a genuine grin at you, noting the slight glare on your face as you returned it, but said nothing.

Her attention reverted to the man beside her, who continued observing the crowd, sharing passing remarks with Rosie when a person of interest appeared.

You oversaw their exchange, deliberately soft-spoken the whole evening, often having to avert your focus to converse with a couple who'd come to give their gift and admiration.

Still, the minute the guests left to join the party again, you'd zero in on them.

Alastor felt your eyes on him, burning holes into the back of his head despite you sitting down to rest as the party moved along.

He refused to acknowledge your staring, patiently waiting for you to call for his attention rather than assume you needed it.

After ten minutes of idle chit-chat, he was obliged to give it to you, as Rosie excused herself for the time being.

You said nothing as he peered down at you over his shoulder, amber eyes glinting gold under the lowering sunlight pouring in from the opened bay windows behind you, lips curled into a familiar smile that you considered returning for a moment.

It was hard for you to deny how magnificent Alastor looked in the thrall of pride, dressed in a Burgundy suit with cream accents, hair neatly styled to hide his natural brown curls from the eye of others, and his skin glimmering under natural light.

He was beautiful, deceptively desirable even in your eyes filled with one-sided hurt, and you wished to let go and stand by his side with the utmost confidence in him just as you'd done so many times before.

It would be so easy to forget his transgressions then, to fully enjoy the celebration of your children's oncoming arrival together, but as he elegantly turned on his heel to approach you, splinters of suspicion pricked through your forgiving nature.

You wouldn't t let him charm his way out of this.

Enough was enough.

Alastor watched as your expression grew hard, hidden from the festive crowd by his lean frame as he knelt at eye level with you.

To those around you, the gesture came off as romantic, an endearing sight of a husband tending to his pregnant wife, and not the unspoken detachment of trust between a loyal lover and her predatory protector.

Alastor reached for one of your hands, subtly tugging it from resting on your stomach to resting in his palm.

A sickeningly sweet smile plastered his face as he placed a ginger kiss on your gloved knuckles.

His eyes never left yours as he enacted the loving gesture, swirling with unabashed mischief as you dug your nails into his skin, and the slight pain beckoned him to hum with delight.

You were angry and even enraged with him, but you showed it subtly and practiced, and if he were an ordinary man, Alastor would've considered feeling guilty for it.

But your husband was far from average, far from the definition of guilt, and you wouldn't have him any other way because, despite all his faults and evils, you loved him.

You loved him, felt loyal to him, would do anything for him, yet he lied.

He carried on belittling your trust to mere innocence.

Resentment radiated off you in waves, barely drowned out by the party's happenings but settling on Alastor's shoulders with force.

"Is there something troubling you, my dear?" he asks lowly, eyes steady on you as your smile tightens.

"You." is the only word that leaves your lips, laced with lethal rage in the softest tone, and the contrast elicits a rare frown from him.

He lets your response linger, tangling with laughter and music but remaining in his consciousness as he rises to his feet.

A specific anger curls in Alastor's chest, one he seldomly felt for himself, but the look on your face as he rose to his full height above you made it potent.

Something was different; that sweet girl he'd grown to cherish now looked tainted, and now he knew it was his fault.

"Darling…" he began to formulate an inquiry, faltering in his well-tailored demeanor to conjure a suitable remedy for your anger, but his excuses weren't quick enough.

You carefully stood to your feet, forcing a smile before raising on your tip toes to kiss his cheek, smoothing a hand over his suit until it rested where his heart was.

Your lips neared his ear, whispering spiteful words that didn't match the loving aura you showcased to the onlooking guests.

"You, my love, are a heartless lying bastard. Keeping secrets from me, your wife, of all people? Is that what your devotion to me means? Not trusting the woman who loves you? The mother of your children? If it is, then you can burn in hell with satan himself..'

The strain of smiling through your pain began to take its toll.

Tears welled in your eyes as each hurtful word fell on his ears, but you refused to cause a scene at such a lovely event and resorted to walking away from him as swiftly as you could manage.

Alastor was left to stand alone, his jaw clenched and his control wavering as he heard your heels click further away.

A few guests tried to gain your attention, but you quickly and respectfully declined their engagements, barely making it out of their view as tears streamed down your face, but by fate's grace, you found solace in Rosie's kitchen.

All of the cooks, maids, and waiters were absent.

Everyone was upstairs enjoying the festivities, celebrating you and Alastor's happiest time, but here you were.

Alone.

Beside yourself and utterly alone.

You tried to sob quietly, choking back frustrated screams while pacing, but the look on Alastor's face after you'd confronted him about lying brought more tears.

You'd never seen him hurt, taken aback, guilty like that.

He'd always been so perfect in your eyes, composed and deliberate about his presence.

Now, you'd ruined that image, and at what cost?

Would he come clean now or shut you out even more?

Was your anger worth any of it? Was his lying worth it?

Your heart was a mess, desperate to connect with his, but reluctant to it all at once.

“….”

Maybe father was right…

The sound of quick footsteps approaching the kitchen didn't register to you, drowned about by your excessive crying, but another presence was made evident as two gentle arms wrapped you in a hug.

"Oh, honey, come here…" Rosie cooed into your hair, frowning as your cries became hysterical, muffled by the frilly fabric of her dress.

"H-he's been lying to me, Rosie! Alastor…..a-and everyone else in this decrepit city has been playing me like a fool!"

You shuddered violently, trying to breathe correctly despite a filled stomach and a rush of anger taking its toll.

Rosie hushed you gently, letting you cry in her arms until your breaths came steadily.

She ushered you to sit somewhere comfortable as she gathered a few items to help your nerves settle.

"He lied to me," you repeat tiredly, watching as she throws together a pot of tea, using herbs you know all too well.

A sprig of Lavender, sprinkle of cinnamon, bits of rosemary, and a few drops of honey. Finally, a dash of lemon for taste.

This a simple but potent recipe for a calming and effective cup of tea.

Rosie sighs, debating what to say as she lets the mixture steep in a porcelain cup of hot water.

You weren't wrong; Alastor was hiding things from you, and though she hated to see you so distraught because of his hidden deeds, the possibility of hurting you with the truth weighed on her.

Betray, her closest friend's trust, tell his wife the haunting truth and pray she still loves him after hearing it.

Or, keep up the charade he'd so carefully created to protect you, risk driving you mad with resentment, and contribute to the cycle of pain you felt?

Rosie had difficulty choosing which path to follow but soon made her decision as you spoke again.

"Rosie…tell me the truth. Is he…is he seeing another woman? Planning to leave me? To leave us?.." you glance at your stomach, fearful of her answer and terrified your assumptions might be right.

Oddly silent, she doesn't answer your questions immediately and finishes preparing your fresh cup of hot tea, "Rosie, please! Whatever Alastor is hiding from me, I need to know. I…I'm his wife, and I have the right to at least know what's being kept from me. What is he doing out so late all the time? Why can’t I leave the house without him anymore? And for goodness sake, why does he insist I don’t read the paper?!”

The blonde freezes where she stands, whipping her whole body around to stare at you intently, and you stop yourself from rambling seeing her serious so suddenly.

"Al isn't being unfaithful, dear. That I can tell you for certain.."

"Then what in god's name is he-"

Rosie drew closer to you, dawning an all-too-sweet smile you'd learned to dread.

That happy expression was practiced, used only to console your fears or quell any questions you had.

She'd gotten so well at fronting the mask that you nearly began to believe anything she said when it was on, but now you knew better.

You knew that smile meant more lying, and in that moment, you lost the will to trust anyone in Alastors' close circle.

Even Rosie.

"I think it's time you go home and rest, dear. All this stress and crying isn't good for the babies," the blonde moved you gently, helping you stand and walk the expanse of her kitchen, up the stairs, and down corridors until the ongoing party reached your ears again.

That entire trek back upstairs felt meaningless, a distant woeful memory you existed in just to be flung back into reality by Rosie's voice, "I'll go get Al and have him take you-"

Your head snapped up at the mention of the one man who'd caused so much sorrow, tongue poised to speak harshly about him, but your penchant for politeness tempered it.

"That won't be necessary, Rosie. I'll get home just fine on my own."

She balled, clutching the string of pearls around her neck, "Oh goodness no, dear! This may be uptown, but it is still no safe place to walk about all alone. And dare I say, Alastor’s just wouldn't have it-"

"Rosie. I don't wish to see or be near him!.." you hissed as quietly as possible, lips pursed and eyes glaring daggers into her crowded parlor room.

Despite her better judgment, Rosie let the matter go, frowning as she made a heady suggestion.

"Why don't I have a close friend walk you home then? Just in case. There is a murder running 'round, and we can't have you getting hurt or caught up."

There it was again…

We…

You knew she was referring to anyone but you. Alastor, Angelique, her.

Everyone but you seemed to have a significant stake or curious investment in your unborn children's well-being.

The eerie overprotectiveness always made you weary, but at this point, you found it alarming, to say the least.

However, Rosie was right to a point.

There'd been a murder -or several- running a muck in Louisiana’s deep south.

Specifically, New Orleans.

Although the gruesome crimes were frequent, morbidly committed, and consistently reported on by papers and radio shows alike…

No one, not even the expert authorities, seemed to pinpoint a suspect or apparent killer among the public.

All that they knew was the killer's intangible motives, their style, their choice of victims -but nothing substantial enough to apprehend them.

You couldn't care less about a possibility of the Bayou Butcher coming for your head.

Your anger towards Alastor proceeded your worries for personal safety.

Rosie didn't wait for you to come to reason with her observation, already scurrying into the parlor to find your husband and tell him of your wishes to leave.

It irritates you how fragile she, Alastor, and everyone else he knows treated you.

It was as if you couldn't fend for yourself, as if he was the only one capable of cognitive thought in your marriage, and to some degree, the realizations stung your pride.

Traces of anger grew in your heart towards him minute by minute, something you never dreamt of feeling for him, but dreams can quickly turn into nightmares as your father would say…

This moment was that turning point. You could feel the shift as you turned away from the packed parlor, ignoring those who gave greetings as you stalked toward the front door.

Some asked if you needed assistance, and others watched in confusion as you slipped out the door and let it slam shut behind you.

Not many people were on the front porch and lawn, and those who were let you pass through without saying a word.

You presumed they were just waiting for the moment to gossip again, whether it be about you or someone else.

The need to care wasn't one you had, taking brisk steps down the sidewalk under a setting sun as rare chilled breezes sweep the southern heat from your face.

It was convenient that Rosie only lived a block and a half away from you, and Alastor’s shared estate.

The semi-long walk gave you time to think, time to enjoy the scenery around you and get away from the suffocating expectations put on you simply by being the Radio Star's perfect wife.

You scoffed at the thought, trying not to get angry again as your steps took you around a familiar corner, but the negative feeling quickly lessened when you felt a gentle rap of kicks in your stomach.

The twins gave a subtle tussle, sensing their mother's distress, and to some degree, you believed they were trying to cheer you up.

Their tiny gestures worked, putting a smile on your solemn expression and keeping it there to your destination.

You shuffled up the steps to your home, tired, feet sore, and ready to cry again as the large structure reminded you of the man you'd left to endure the company of his admirers.

His.

Not yours.

That had always been the difference.

With a sigh, you unlocked the front double doors, shutting them swiftly as street lamps began to light up and locking the ornate wood panels right after.

It was a habit Alastor insisted on and one you didn't intend to break tonight.

He'd have to come through the back door, and as small as the hassle would be, you still found it a suitable enough sign of discontent from you to him.

With nothing but sleep on your mind, you trudged up the staircase, pulling your gloves off and preemptively pulling pins from your styled hair.

By the time you reached the bedroom, your hair flowed loosely down your back, and your dress zipper was pulled down (by some miracle, you managed to do it on your own).

You tossed the pins on your vanity, jewelry, gloves, and clutch purse, following suit.

Your shoes regained their spot in the closet, your clothes were thrown into the bathroom hamper, and your nightrobe was thrown over your arm as a replacement.

You were ready for bed after one hot shower, a face care routine, and a hair brushing session.

Alastor still isn't home yet…

The clock had struck midnight thirty minutes ago, and he'd yet to show his face.

You half expected him to, but after years of seeing him angry on very few occasions, you highly doubted he'd return without cooling himself down first.

He tended to go hunting as an alternative…which left you alone for hours on end.

Sadness and guilt crept into you as the argument replayed in your mind.

The emptiness of your shared bed did not help your aching heart, and the heavy silence of the house made it worse.

You may have gone too far.

Maybe he wasn't hiding anything, and I overreacted?

Maybe I was wrong to doubt him, to worry and fret over something trivial.

Your thoughts spiraled again, tears filling your eyes as regret got the best of you.

"What have I done…?" you mumbled in earnest, glancing around the room, wishing to apologize to Alastor or at least explain yourself in a better tone.

Sleeping without him felt foreign, unreal, and even like a self-inflicted punishment.

You saw no benefit to it, and you were consumed with worry.

I can’t do this…

With your mind racing but your body ready to rest, you decided that taking one of Angelique's tonics would soothe you enough to relax.

You left the room on a mission, carefully treading downstairs and into the kitchen, and with haste, you found the cabinet holding the container of vials she’d gifted to you every month.

You opened it swiftly, hoping to find what you needed, but the box was empty.

"Oh, for the love of!-" you hissed angrily, shoving the box away with a grimace, but the sour expression didn't last long as you remembered where to find extra tonics.

Angelique was an insightful woman, cautious enough to give you extra in case something like this happened.

Fortunately, Alastor insisted on putting the additional vials somewhere else so as not to mistake them for regular tonics.

You'd agreed to his idea, allowing him to keep them safely locked in the basement, but now you needed them.

Leaving the moonlit kitchen, you drifted into the second hallway, walking straight ahead to the basement door.

Its key hung on a hook to the left, a small silver trinket Alastor kept a tight watch on, and you tended not to mess with it.

That went for the basement as well.

It was his area of the house you stayed away from not only out of personal reluctance but also out of explicit instructions from him.

His reasons for your avoidance ranged from "Trust me, It's too dangerous for you, darling.." to "Just as you have the library as a safe haven, I have the basement as mine…"

You hadn’t thought to question him, having no reason to, but for once, you disregarded his wishes to grant your own.

He'd never know you went down there only to retrieve medicine. What harm could one peek do?

You plucked the key from its hook, unlocking the creaky black walnut door before reaching into the dark abyss for the lamp switch.

Your fingers found it on the left wall, flicking the switch to bring a warm golden light into the damp room.

The steps croaked under your slow footsteps, holding firm under your nearly doubled weight until you stepped onto the cold wooden flooring.

Alastor kept the space oddly clean; a chair sat in one corner, his hunting gear was neatly arranged on one of two long oak tables, and the walls held other hunting equipment.

You noticed most of the hanging instruments were carving aids, something your own father used to cut and properly clean his own game after he went hunting during your childhood.

Seeing the array of butcher knives and other tools did not frighten you; they were familiar and expected from your husband's choice of hobbies.

Nothing caught your attention at first, usual kickbacks and things tucked away in corners and a hefty radio set on the second table, but little stood out.

You treaded carefully though, peering curiously at different items as you searched for the spare box of tonics, but they were nowhere to be found at first glance.

You figured to look deeper, rummaging through cabinets and under the table, mindful of your swollen belly as you bent down or reached above.

The longer you searched, the more anxious you felt.

Somewhat afraid of being in the basement alone, and a little scared Alastor would find you down there, though he explicitly asked you not to be.

"I have to hurry.." you mumbled, eyes frantically searching the space again as the last cabinet you searched held nothing important to you.

A particular corner of the room caught your gaze. Right behind the armchair was a stack of boxes of different sizes.

You drew closer to them, spotting the extra medicine box on top, gently grabbing it from the pile, but you couldn't look away from the most enormous box sitting right at your feet.

It was huge and made of sturdy metal, unlike the rest, and you were sure a whole person could fit in it if they tried.

How odd…

You'd never seen it before but the box felt sorely out of place, among other things.

You couldn't peel your attention away from it, some invisible force urging you to look inside, and despite your better judgment, you gave into the desire.

Setting the medicine box down on the chair, you moved the other cases off the larger one, clearing it off before cautiously kneeling to open it.

There was no lock, only four bolt latches, which you found easy enough to undo, but the real task was lifting the heavy lid up high enough to see inside.

You managed it with a few determined huffs escaping your lips, letting the heavy lid hit the stone wall before taking a look inside.

You immediately wish you hadn't..…

"Oh God…" you whispered in utter shock and horror at the sight in front of you, feeling undeniably sick from it, mind racing to make up a rational reason for the vulgar sight.

But what rational reason on Earth could justify your beloved husband hiding a literal mutilated body in the basement.

Your heart sank seeing the poor souls' faces sunken in with dread, drowning in their blood, maned at various points as if an animal had mauled them.

Body parts were missing, skin had been flayed, and you almost couldn't tell if the person had any recognizable features left.

It was horrible…a brain-altering nightmare come to life before your very eyes, and it made you sick.

You began to cry, unconsciously sobbing hysterically as the dead body lifelessly peered back at you, terrified of it… slightly afraid of the man you presumed caused the damming scene.

With a sense of urgency, you reached to shut the lid, flinching as loose blood splattered onto you from the impact of the box closing, and the chill of red liquid dripping down your skin was enough to make you scream in pure disgust.

It was a guttural, frantic cry you'd only expressed in recent nightmares, but a deserved one.

Your body began to shake in peril, the gruesome image engraved into your mind as you scrambled to get to stand, but you weren't as composed as before and stumbled backwards haphazardly as a result.

Everything moved faster than you thought; your body had abandoned control, leaving you to fall without warning.

The room spun as your head collided with a table's edge, a dull pain erupting in your skull on impact, and your consciousness wholly disrupted.

The blinding pain of falling to the hard floor didn't register to you as panicked tears seeped down your face, screams you couldn't hear left your lips, and blood began to pool from your head and between your legs.

Shock, terror, helplessness, fear, and panic were all you could feel.

Intense pain in your stomach and head amplified the emotions but became distant sensations as your vision blurred and faded.

The very last words you remember speaking was a cry for help, a desperate plea for everything you'd seen to be a mistaken dream, a cry for anyone -no- your husband to save you from the terrible ordeal.

A plea for him to appear and tell you it's not true, that the body in the bolted box wasn't his doing, but your hope of him hearing you -anyone hearing you- dwindled rapidly as your concussion took hold.

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

Rosie found Alastor quickly enough, merely having to spot his neatly styled curls drifting in the wind as he stood out on a balcony alone.

A drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

He blew smoke into the murky winter air, eyes dark and narrowed as he stared at the evening sky.

It was rare to see him frowning.

Alastor Hartifelt, of all people, not smiling?

Rosie nearly couldn't believe it the closer she drew to him.

He was…upset.

Irritated.

His smile was thoroughly washed away by your harsh words and prods for the truth.

You'd managed to take his cheer in one fail swoop, leaving him alone to think, and he couldn't blame you.

You, his ever-so-loving wife, his confidant, and his soon-to-be motherly doting doe, were rightfully at odds with him.

He'd hurt you, the very reason he'd began lying in the first place was to avoid doing so, but it'd happened anyway.

A genuinely ironic turn of events, in his opinion.

Alastor glared at the rising moon, cursing whatever higher power meddled dared to meddle in his life of all people, but his inner ranting was cut short as the sound of Rosie clearing her throat hit his ears.

The radio host spun on his heel to face her, fronting a slight smile to hide the agitation he felt at the moment, "Done socializing already, dear Rosie?"

He strived to sound polite and unbothered, but the edge in his tone showed through despite his best efforts.

Rosie paid no mind to his touchy attitude, knowing where it stemmed from.

She came to stand by his side, nodding in response to his question, "I didn't have much time to. I was with your lovely wife…trying to calm her nerves."

Alastor's frown returned at the mention of you, a thin line on his lips and a glint of guilt in his gaze.

"How is she?" he asks quietly, and Rosie's cheery expression falters hearing it.

"She insisted on returning home… by herself. Incredibly distraught on her way out.." She admits.

His chest tightened, heart sinking instantly picturing you at home alone, "Why didn't she-"

Rosie clicked her tongue dismissively, interrupting his line of questioning, "Al, she was severely distraught. Please let her be. I only know a fraction of what went on between you two, but it's obvious to her that you're hiding something. Not to intrude on your marriage, darling, but you must make a choice before something irreversible happens to it…to Y/n."

The blonde couldn't hide her somberness, staring at her long-time friend with a sense of earnest sincerity as she continued, "I shouldn't be the one to tell you this….but if you really do care for the girl, love her like you say you do, then you'll tell her the truth. You'll tell her, and she'll still be by your side…."

Alastor lowered his head, and for the first time in his adult life, he felt perplexed, stuck at impasss of foreign emotions.

He cared for you; some might call it love, and he'd been aware of it since childhood.

You'd told him all your secrets, good or bad, and trusted him.

You trusted him enough to reveal the mental abuse your father had put you through during childhood.

Trusted him enough to tell him how badly you wished you'd died instead of your mother to make your father somewhat happy again.

Alastor even knew of the times you'd been left completely alone as a child for weeks on end, how your father's neglect made you feel less than, and the permanent effect it had on you.

Your desire to fill a void, be loved without being shoved off, and be seen as more than a convenient soft-hearted person for someone to trifle with.

He knew every little thing about you, and it was because you had faith in his loyalty.

He found it easy to divulge his thoughts to you in the same manner, but allowing his secrets out into the open made him uneasy, even if you'd proven trustworthy from the beginning.

Then there was the matter of killing for you.

Alastor had done it so many times without your knowledge…

Stalking down men who stared at you too long for his liking, carving up anyone who spoke ill of you, happily taking the life of those who spoke down on your relationship.

Most of his murderous tendencies were purely driven by his obsession with you, a twisted kind of possessiveness he couldn't let go of, and one that made it easy for him to spill blood for you in the blink of an eye.

He did it to keep you safe…and that’d only be possible with him and no one else.

What stopped him from telling you how far he’d gone to do so, showing you that unnatural side of him only his victims saw, could only be described as fear.

Fear of losing you.

Fear of stripping the warmth from your heart.

Fear of losing the one thing, the one person who'd loved him despite all his flaws.

Fear of never truly smiling, never feeling a genuine emotion again because you -your presence in his life- allowed him to do just that.

Alastor hated to call it what it was, but as he was evading your attempts to understand, lying straight to your face and hoping you'd dilute your intuition was a way cowards way out of telling you the whole truth.

His pride dimmed, a frustrated grunt rumbling his chest as he glared at the drink in his hand.

Rosie sighed, flashing him a soft smile of pure reassurance, "Go to her, Al. Put a stop to her worries and relieve yourself of the burden. If not for your marriage, then for her sanity. She is too lovely of a girl to be treated so faithlessly."

He tongues his cheek at her words, a bitter burn of smoke and whiskey on it as he swallows thickly before nodding in agreement, "Seems I have no choice."

"You best head off. It's getting rather late, and I'm sure she misses you dearly, Al."

Alastor took one last drag of his cigarette, dropping it in his half-full bourbon glass before letting Rosie take it from him as he straightened his suit.

"I'll bid you good night then. You have my gratitude, Rosie, and the party was a splendid success, if I may add." His tone was back to normal, engaging, and mildly charismatic. Rosie smiled wide at his improving mood, accepting his thanks before shooting him off with a quick peck on his cheek.

“Au revoir monsieur!…”

“Au revoir mademoiselle..”

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

Alastor made it home without trouble, humming a snappy tune to distract himself from the evening's progressing events.

However, as he reached the back door of your shared home, his shadows twinged with alertness.

His hand froze over the gold doorknob, a certain heaviness settling in his chest as the specters frantically twisted against the back porch walls.

Something is wrong. Can't hear Y/n. Can't hear their heartbeats. Can't feel them-

Alastor stiffened as his shadows enlarged, fueled by the panic he was resisting, "Find her!" he bellowed the order out on instinct, and the leering spirits dove into action as he barreled into the darkened home.

"Y/n!?" he yelled for you, head whipping in every direction as he searched the first floor, stomping up the stairs next to search the second floor but coming up empty.

He stood in your shared bedroom, remaining calm as he tried to figure out where you could be.

All your belongings were here, and you had readied for bed from the looks of your tampered vanity, but nothing else gave him a clue about your whereabouts.

That was until his shadows called to him; a certain bellow of wailing sounded from the lower part of the house, and one Alastor didn't like the sound of.

A warning.

A frenzied one at that.

Found her…hurry.

Without a second thought, Alastor bounded back downstairs, following the whips of his shadow self as it traveled through the halls, only to stop in front of a doorway he dreaded.

The basement. Its door was wide open, the lamp light eerily aglow as his shadows whirled past the steps to engulf the room.

“Y/n?!…” Alastor called for you again as he crept down the creaky wood steps, voice stiffer than he intended it to be, but its edge paled compared to the large lump forming in his throat when his eyes spotted you.

Splayed out on the floor, on your side, lying limp and motionless.

A small puddle of blood was forming near your head, another was quickly growing in between your legs, and splatters of it covered your face, hands, and nightgown.

For the second time in his life, Alastor felt true terror, bewildered by the sight of his darling wife in distress and paralyzed by the powerful possibility it was his fault.

He’d only felt this fearful once before, afraid his father would end his mother’s life right in front of him after a hefty night of drinking, but even then, he found the courage to act.

Merely killing his father out of pure rage-filled instinct, but now…how he would remedy your suffering alluded him completely.

She's barely breathing… Their heartbeats-

"That's quite enough from you!" Alastor roared in utter frustration, moving without thinking, willing himself to do anything but panic.

He worked as quickly as his mind would allow, trying not to break down as he knelt beside your still body, "Y/n…darling…wake up… please…" he begged quietly.

Being as cautious as ever, he cradled you close, praying to whatever cruel god there was that you'd respond or at least open your eyes while he carried you out of the haunting basement.

Your body twitched at the sound of a familiar voice, feeling lighter as solid arms lifted you from the cold floor and whisked you from the damp room.

The sound of a rapid heartbeat thundered in your ear as waves of coherence fought to establish itself in you, but the severity of your wounds made it a struggle to function.

You settled for listening to the heartbeat, the voice accompanying it a vague background noise but a comforting one.

Your vision wasn't any better, only allowing you to see a murky image of a man, one you knew well but couldn't determine was real or not in the moment.

“Al..astor?..”you whispered in awe, smiling sadly as he looked down at you, clearly worried.

“Stay with me, darling… Keep breathing, please…”

Alastor felt you shiver violently in his arms hearing him speak, racing up the stairs as cautiously as possible to avoid hurting you more, barging into your shared bedroom seconds later.

He laid you down on the bed, disregarding the blood and dirt staining the sheets as he tried to assess your injuries. "Fuck…fuck…fuck!" he rambled angrily, breaths coming quick, and his mind in a rare frenzy as a result.

Your eyes refused to stay open, an apparent wound was on the side of your head, and the impact of your fall had indeed done something to warrant your lower half bleeding.

He needed to stop the bleeding from both areas, keep you awake, and determine the twin's state all at once.

Alastor knew this but struggled to pull himself together, only able to grasp at one of your hands with both of his to ground himself as a frustrated smile adorned his face.

Pull it together, or she and your children die.

It's all my fault… it's all my fault…

She'll die if you don't act…

It's all my fucking fault…I-

She needs help! Wallowing in your depraved guilt won't change that!

His shadows chittered, reasoning with their host despite the panic they felt seeping off of him.

Alastor screwed his eyes shut, an anguished growl leaving his chest as he tried to think of a solution and push away his panicked state.

You remained still, on the verge of passing out again, trying to hold onto reality a little longer, squeezing your savior's hand back as a weak tether to it.

Alastor froze, feeling your gesture, head lifting swiftly as you attempted to speak, "It h-hurts.." you muttered painfully, acknowledging a new ache you'd only felt a few weeks prior.

Intense shocks of strain spread in your abdomen, noticeable contractions that felt different than previous ones, but as much as you wanted to articulate the agony they caused, you couldn't find the strength to.

You screamed instead, gripping Alastor’s hand hard as the constant pains grew more robust, making your cries grow louder.

The terror in your screeches struck him hard, an almost unnatural sound he'd never imagined coming from you, but your following words gave the sounds plausible clarity.

"Th-they're c-coming!" you choked between labored breaths, feeling dizzy as your blood loss took its toll, but the growing urge to push trumped your need to pass out.

Alastor came to his senses upon hearing your warning.

Fully aware that he couldn't handle this situation alone, he did the only thing that made sense to him.

Ask for help. Something he hated to do but saw no alternative for.

"Go get Rosie. Make it quick. Find my mother next and get her here as well…" he commanded his shadows quietly, heart still racing as he took solace in comforting you.

The bed dipped as he sat down, free hand cradling your head as the other raised yours to his lips.

He planted a kiss on your knuckles; brows furrowed as the feeling of your fingers gripping his slightly lessened, an indication of culminated exhaustion and blood loss.

"Stay with me, ma chere. Just a while longer, alright? Everything…everything’s going to be fine…" Alastor muttered soothing words into your ear, a ploy to keep you and himself calm, and to some extent, it worked.

You hung onto his every word, confused and alarmed by him but clinging to the safety his presence brought.

You couldn't forget what you saw in the basement, the horrid image still stuck in the back of your mind as you cried in agony and writhed in desperation for help.

You couldn't believe that Alastor, your perfect husband, the man watching over you now so fervently, had done something so horrible to another person.

You had many questions, fears, and even more confusion than before.

Nevertheless, your dire position now completely overshadowed the underlying nightmare that was your marriage.

Your children.

That's the only thing you could clearly envision, enduring the heartache, suffering through the genuine threat to your life, all for their sake.

Confronting Alastor could wait.

Surviving the night and bringing healthy twins into this world couldn't.

xxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx

I'm putting the reader through a lot...but you all will survive... Maybe. Also, the song choices for this one kind of hit just right. ;)

TAGS ❤️: @rapturenyx @michi-keinz @shealizxx @nissrinina @destinyisastar @bubblegumheartsy @sailorsmouth @aestheticgals-blog @rameisa @ellesette

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

This edit is so fitting, I fear... Credits to creator ❤️

[selfishdoll]

❛ a lesson...❜ ━━ ft. vamp! sukuna

SUMMARY ೀ ׅ ۫ . ㅇ

humans & vampires weren’t all that different huh? sukuna taking it upon himself to ghost you after the intense and quite addictive night he gave you. with a month of radio silence you decided to move on, you had no loyalty to him after all. except, the moment sukuna saw you in the lap of a vampire that wasn’t him.. he was beyond pissed off.

CONTENT WARNING ೀ ׅ ۫ . ㅇ

sukuna ghosting (rockstar life fr) | jealous! sukuna | possessiveness | biting as a way of marking | rough sex | oral sex (f. receiving) | degradation (use of the word slut) | praise | ooc sukuna ofc i’m not gege | multiple orgasms | dumbification | sukuna having conflicted feelings | ‘fwb’ to lovers | blood drinking ofc | mean dom! sukuna | he mocks your moans | etc. if i forgot something please inform me.

NOTE ೀ ׅ ۫ . ㅇ

i guess vampire sukuna is plaguing my mind much more then i thought. this is a continuation of the “favorite groupie” fic. enjoy & as always, please excuse any typos or grammar mistakes.

Were you obsessed? Maybe delusional? How exactly could sex have such an impact on you? When left unintended your mind would drift, flashbacks of Sukuna absolutely ruining you plaguing your mind. How he effortlessly pulled orgasms out of your tiring body, the dirty words that bordered on mean, and yet giving you the sweetest kisses as if he wasn’t plowing you into the cushions. That night changed the trajectory of your life— as dramatic as it sounded.

You struggled letting him go, wanting nothing more than to lock your hand around his wrist and tug him back to you. But, that would be far too greedy. Besides the vampire promised to visit your city, visit you after the last few days of the tour. You had no reason to disbelieve him, waiting so patiently for his return.

However, one week turned into two, and then so on until an entire month passed with no sign of him. He had your number, your social media— yet any message you sent was never read.

Sukuna’s attempt to prove that him and any human man were different was disproved rather quickly given his ghosting. You were upset, embarrassed and frankly pissed off. You felt as if some special thing to you was snatched away without care or your say. Granted you aren’t obligated to sex, but still. You were allowed to be mad, right?

Mad enough that you decided to seek someone else out— another vampire. Sukuna wasn’t totally special, it just had to be his species, you tried to convince yourself while aggressively gliding the tube of gloss across your lips. You smacked them together, assuring the delicate colors look perfect upon your two-toned lips. For attire you wore something simple; a black pleated mini skirt, a white top, black fishnets, and nice boots.

You hummed along to the music surrounding the bedroom as you delicately pulled the gold plated necklace of your name around your neck. Assuring it was in perfect place, you took one last look at yourself in the vanity before nodding.

Perfection.

Your attention was directed elsewhere the moment a honk came from outside, your hands moving quickly to grab your phone and purse. You rushed out of your bedroom, down the stairs, and out your house— locking the door on the way out. You grinned at your best friend rolling down her window, cat calling you like some pervert.

“Stop..” You hissed softly, opening the passenger seat door and entering the vehicle. Closing the door, you reached for your seatbelt. The other woman pulled the car out of park the moment the seatbelt clicked, pulling out of your driveway and down the road.

“Can’t believe you had one taste and now you’re a verified fang-banger.” Your friend spoke, grinning the moment she heard you suck your teeth. “Yet you were the one to always make fun of me.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning against the door with your palm holding your cheek. “Whatever.. just be happy I tried it.” You spoke, smiling at the chuckle that escaped your friend.

The rest of the car ride was filled with music flowing from the radio and conversation from your lips; anticipating how the night would end. You needed this, deserved this you continually told yourself. Sukuna had his chance, and he fucked up. You weren’t gonna wait for some drummer that probably had multiple women a day.

No matter how much the thought stung.

The two of you reached the bar rather quickly, a new one— different from where Malevolence played that faithful night. You breathed, pulling the mirror down and staring at your reflection; flurrying the chest length boho braids. A hum escaped you the moment you were satisfied, closing up the mirror and turning to exit the car.

Your friend was right behind you, shutting your doors at the same time and waltzing over to the bar interest; arms locked. Reaching the door, you flashed your cards to the vampire occupying the threshold— him giving the information a quick once over before nodding with a toothy smile.

“Welcome, ladies.” With a wink he sent you to off, stepping to allow you inside. You entered the bar, smiling and looking around. It was simple, similar to the first one you went to. But different— given Sukuna wasn’t here.

The two of you made a beeline for the barstools, sliding on top of them and ordering two shots each. You turned in your seat, looking around the area. “Hm..” You hummed softly, leaning to rest your cheek into your hand. “How do you tell which vampires want to fuck you and which ones want to eat you?”

You friend snorted, sliding the shots closer to your forms the moment they were placed down. “That’s what makes it so fun, (Y/N).” She replied, lifting a shot.

You rolled your eyes at her claim, reaching for your own and clinking the glasses together. You threw back the shot easily, smoothing a finger across your lip to catch any droplet of alcohol. You resumed your scanning, searching for someone that popped out within the sea of vampires and humans. Your eyes finally landed on someone. He was handsome, decently so; adoring a shaved haircut and dressed in black.

Your gazes locked, you giving a small smile before turning back to the bar, grasping your second shot. You downed it, pulling back and hissing as the alcohol burned your throat. A good burn, one you felt was melting your restraints away slowly. You gently pressed your lips together, savoring the taste of the alcohol.

Which was interrupted the moment another glass was placed infront of you, your eyes switching over to the bartender; question clear on your features. He flashed you a simple smile in return, hands focused on cleaning a glass. “The gentleman over there.”

You turned to where the worker had motioned, eyes landing on the man you were just staring down. He lifted his glass to you, lips curled to showcase pearly white fangs. You smiled back, turning to your best friend. “Free drinks?” You spoke in a low tone, fingers curling around the shot glass.

Your friend snickered, coming close. “Better get your ass over there before he finds someone else to spoil.” She drawled, gently shouldering you.

Ignoring the nagging feeling, the anxiety; you stood, pressing the bottom of your skirt down and grabbing your shot. You moved towards the man, careful not to step on toes or bump into someone. Finally you approached him, stepping so you were just two feet away.

An acrylic tapped against the glass, smiling down at him. “Thanks for the drink.” You mused sweetly, lifting it to your lips and taking a sip. The man sat up a bit, legs spreading and rocking slightly.

“Anything for you.” He spoke, head tilting as his eyes not so secretly danced down your form. Satisfaction was clear in his face, placing his cup down on the table beside him. “Need a seat?” He questioned, smoothing his hand down his thigh, eyebrows rose.

Your lidded eyes followed his large hand, a coy smile plastered on your features. With a lean you were placing your empty glass to the side, stepping between his legs and sitting down on his thigh. His arm snaked around your waist, securing his hand there so you didn’t slide off. “So sweet.. are vampires always so polite?”

He chuckled at your words, “I can’t speak for all of us, but I— am a gentleman.”

“Clearly.” You spoke, leaning closer. Conversation between you and this stranger, filling the air endlessly. Your eyes would follow the way his tongue glided across those pointed fangs, clearly desperate to bite you.. maybe more. The thought caused excitement to brew, though wondering why he was hesitating. Was there a clear reason?

There was. Or rather, his hesitation came from a person currently staring the two of you down.

Red eyes were fixated on the scene, various emotions swirling in its gaze. Sukuna couldn’t believe the disgusting sight before him, rather he didn’t want to. The moment you entered the bar he was staring, watching the way your plump ass would peek out under that poor excuse of a skirt, your lips against the glass, and so much more. The glass of alcohol infront of him was long forgotten, completely focused on you and nothing else.

The vampire wondered whether to approach you, or rather how to. You were bound to be upset given his month’s absence, probably even ignore his presence. So for now he sat glued to his seat, running through his mind for the perfect words. During his little dilemma you had risen from your seat, switching over to someone.

Some vampire. Some vampire that wasn’t him.

If he knew any better Sukuna would think you were doing this to get back at him. But you hadn’t even noticed him, despite the way his eyes were basically burning holes into the back of your head. You were so focused on him, on that poor excuse of a replacement. The man could feel his annoyance grow, eyebrows pushed close with his hand closed tight.

Why was Sukuna so pissed? It wasn’t hard for him to get his dick wet; just previously being interrupted by some random groupie — which he declined rather harshly. So why, why exactly did seeing you cozied up to some random piss him off so bad?

Sukuna didn’t know the answer to that question, which annoyed him even further.

Your hands trailed down the man’s chest, humming a little to his words. You had long tuned him out, trying to figure out how to get him in a secluded place. Whilst thinking over your little plan the man suddenly stopped talking, stiffening. You blinked, pulling back to glance at his eyes; spotting them glued on something behind him. “You ok—“ You yelped the moment a tight grip wrapped around your wrist, easily being lifted from the man’s lap.

A cool arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a familiar body. Your heart pounded against your chest, gaze trailing from a black shirt up to Sukuna’s hardened features, knees going weak the moment you noticed the harsh glare he was giving you. You looked for snarky words, maybe even an annoyed comment; but nothing came out. With just one look the anger you felt had washed away, replaced with anticipation and want.

Sukuna took one look to the man sitting down, releasing an amused scoff. “Didn’t take you for a desperate slut, (Y/N).” He spoke freely, ignoring the way you lightly hit his chest. The vampire turned, leading you away. You tripped up a bit, quickly following, trying to keep up with his speed.

“I’m not a sl—“

“Shut up.” He murmured harshly, watching your pretty glossed lips clamp up quickly. The man lead you to the back of the bar, approaching a door. With ease he opened it, entering and releasing you to turn to lock.

You realized he lead you into some random private room, similar to the one before. Except a bed laid in the middle of it, a lamp, and a dresser. You decided not to question it, especially when his form brushed your back, hands reaching over to grip your front. Before he could speak you were turning quickly, pressing your hands against his chest.

“No, you don’t get to ghost for a month and then snatch me away from some guy you’re jealous of.”

Sukuna snarled, hands falling to the back of your thighs and tugging you flush against him. “If you think I’m jealous of him, I must not have done a good enough job at teaching you the difference between me and some other man you lay with.” He pressed forward, leading you backwards.

You scoffed a bit, ignoring the soft blankets hitting the back of your knees. “You said that for humans, he was a vampire.” You countered, flashing a small smirk. You regretted your words the moment you felt a hand leave your thigh, a small gasp escaping you as strong fingers gripped your cheeks.

“Oh, you’re right..” Sukuna mused, hand trailing to cup your chin, thumb pushing against your lips and intruding your mouth. “Guess I’ll have to drill the fucking lesson into your head then; you’ll never meet someone that can fuck you as good as I do.” His last words came out harsher, pushing to lay you out on the bed.

You attempted to press your legs closed but he was quicker, large form stepping between them all while pushing his thumb farther down your mouth; listening to the music of your gags.

“Keep your legs open, don’t even think about closing them.” Sukuna spoke, pushing at a thigh to spread you even wider. Thumb and hand still occupying your face, his other hand moved to flip your skirt up, eyes zoned in on your cunt covered by the thin fabric of your panties and fishnets. The man shook his head a little, a subtle grin taking over his face. “Such a needy thing, walking around a vamp bar with barely anything on.”

The small whine of embarrassment you released went unnoticed, Sukuna instead focusing on tugging the fishnets you wore and in one swift motion; tearing them right at the crotch. You grabbed his wrist, pulling his thumb from your mouth to let out an annoyed; “Sukuna! Don’t ruin my clothes!”

“What, you gonna do something about it?” The man dared, tugging on the thong you wore for a moment before ripping that too. He grinned at the whine that escaped you, pulling the ruined garments off your body. “Thought so. Just lay there like a good slut and take what I’m giving you.”

Two fingers glided up and down your slit, your essence slowly escaping from the gentle touches. So delicately, barely even grazing you. The vampire was fucking teasing you, spreading you open slowly before slipping his fingers away before you could even think of moving your hips. You hissed as his thumb brushed your clit, attempting to chase the feeling but him moving away far too quickly.

Your hands clung to the small shirt you wore, glossy eyes staring at the man. “Sukuna— come on..” You drawled out, a gasp of frustration escaping you the moment he pushed a finger in before removing it. Your eyes widened however the moment his palm slammed against your pussy, your back arching off the bed as the pain and pleasure mingled into a single feeling. “Fuck.. please, please—“

“Wasting all that breath begging.” Sukuna spoke lowly, hand rising to slap your pussy again. Your legs shook as his fingers caught your clit, walls fluttering around nothing as your arousal continued to trickle down. Your whines were music to his ears, pushing your thigh once again before you could close your legs. “Needy fucking pussy..” The man murmured, fingers creeping down— plunging inside without warning.

Your walls clung to his thick digits, groaning the moment he began to scissor them inside. They rubbed against your gummy walls, pressing against a spongy spot inside you. Your eyes were pinched close at this point, hips moving to chase your orgasm. Some nagging feeling told you he would deny it, so you did the best you could; riding and maneuvering to feel his fingers deeper.

The man just let you, watching you completely ruin yourself on his digits; lips curled into the sickest smile. Your walls were clenching tight now, the intensity of your hips increasing to meet each thrust of his fingers. A mantra of swears escaped you, the band inside ready to burst at any moment.

“Already gonna cum aren’t you?” Sukuna questioned despite already knowing the answer, the wet squelches of your pussy following his words. You whined out pleas to come, hand falling to his wrist to keep it there. His lips spread even wider, fangs on display as not so surprisingly; removed his fingers.

You released a dramatic whine, tears pricking at your eyes as you gripped his wrist. “Fuc—fuck.. why’d y— mm!” You raised body met the bed the moment he slapped your messy pussy, knees knocking as the tears trickled down your cheeks. Sukuna cooed softly, grabbing the inside of your thighs and pushing them wide once again.

“Such a fucking crybaby..” The man teased, pushing your legs up, allowing your thighs to brush your chest. Wordlessly he leaned down, tongue poking out to glide across your slit. His grip tightened the moment you flinched, nails digging into your skin and simply keeping you there. The thick muscle glided up and down, tasting your arousal as if the finest wine. Sukuna adjusted you so your heat as flush against his face, nose bumping into your clit while his tongue spread and toyed with you.

Your hands gripped the blankets underneath, legs trembling in his hands as bellows of pleasure escaped you. It began to hurt so good the moment his tongue furiously flicked against your sensitive body, the pleasure racking through you. Your hand traveled down gripping fluffy pink tresses for leverage. Your hips rose into his face, grinding so languidly the man chuckled; the vibrations hitting your pussy in all the right places.

Sukuna released a thigh allowing his arm to press both legs up before his hand traveled, knuckle circling your fluttering hole. With zero effort he was pushing two inside, curling the digits whilst taking your swollen bud between his lips.

The thought of his fangs sinking into your most sensitive area entered your mind, completely washed away the moment he began to suck. Your back arched, gripping his hair hard as all fear left you completely. His name came out in strangled gasps and moans, legs withering above you.

His pace quickened the moment he felt your walls tighten even more, pressing his fingers deeper inside you. You begged to come, shameless pleas that you would surely be embarrassed of later. But for now, you didn’t care; desperate to paint his face with your arousal.

Luckily, Sukuna was just as desperate— smirking as he continued his movements. All too quickly you came, messily grinding on the man’s face as you rode the high. Your pussy spasmed, come tainting his palm as his fingers slowed down before pulling out completely.

Sukuna lapped up your arousal, ignoring your sensitive whines before releasing you over the torture. He moved his arm to allow your legs to land on the bed, rising and crawling over your body. The vampire grinned down at you, watching your eyes struggle to stay on him. “Look at that,” He mocked slowly, hand gliding to grip your cheeks. “— all that talk and you’re already tired. What a joke..” His face moved to neck, tongue dragging across your heated skin. The way you shivered had the man reeling, mouth opening even wider as his fangs easily broke the skin.

You gasped out, clinging to his shirt as the pain flooded your body. “Su—sukuna..” You whined, feeling his lips press against your skin; slowly delving on your blood. The pain slowly withdrew, pleasure replacing the moment his hand trailed back between your legs, thumb pressing against your clit. The sensations fought for dominance, your lip trembling and caught between your teeth. Your hips rose into his hand, stopping the moment he punched your swollen bud, however.

After minutes of his drinking Sukuna was satisfied, dragging his tongue along the indents of his fangs to seal the wound. He licked your blood from his lips, eyes closing for just a moment. The man refused to admit how much he missed not only you, but your blood— and how fucking good it tasted.

Finally his eyes opened, red gaze focusing on your face. Your eyes were closed, soft breaths escaping your glossy lips whilst gripping him so harshly. Sukuna was well aware he fucked up waiting a complete month before seeing you, but was beyond happy you were so pliable for him.

You craved him just as much as he craved you. A fact neither of you could ignore.

Sukuna carried his hand away from you, traveling to grab your neck gently. He rose your head from the bed, snatching your lips in a deep kiss. The faint taste of your blood had you returning the liplock with equal intensity— hand moving away from his back to instead wrap around his wrist. “Missed me so bad, didn’t you (Y/N)?”

You moaned softly against his lips in response, groaning the moment his fangs dragged across your bottom lip, threatening to pierce the skin. Except he didn’t, continuing the intense kiss; tongue curling around your own and sucking.

With one hand occupied his other lowered to his pants, flicking the button open and slowly pushing them down. His boxers followed, garments hanging on his nicely shaped thighs as he crowded in close, dick resting against your lower stomach.

A soft whine entered his mouth the moment he pulled back, gliding his shaft between your folds. The man gave another thrust, brushing your aching bud so nicely. But not perfectly. Your hips rose to somehow alert him you needed more. Sukuna grinned against your lips, pulling back whilst releasing your neck. His hands carried down, pressing your hips against the bed all while fucking himself between your folds.

With each grind your stomach was caving, desperately searching for friction he was withholding. His name exited your lips in a pathetic gasp, hands moving to his arm. You pleaded silently, glossy gaze staring at his own amused one.

“Mm.. use your words.”

You breathed deeply, skin hot and completely needy— slightly fed up with his teasing. But you knew better then to test him, knowing the man would have no problem pulling his pants back on and leave you stranded there. Your teeth bit the inside of your cheek, attempting to ignoring the buzz of pleasure you felt from his shallow thrusts.

“Su—sukuna, please..”

“Hm?” The vampire questioned, heading tilting as he leaned to hover over your body. His hand gripped your chin, turning to force eye contact. “Speak up, (Y/N).”

You struggled to keep your eyes focused on him, a pathetic whimper of; please Sukuna, fuck me! escaping you. A toothy grin was sent your way in response, Sukuna resting on his hunches.

“That’s it.. such a good little slut for me.” He spoke on bated breath, grasping your thighs. Placing your legs onto his shoulders the man nudged forward, cockhead pressing against your entrance before entering with minimal effort— given what a complete you already were.

The stretch hit you just like before, the pressure building in your stomach as your walls clung to his fat length. Your toes curled, head leaning back as strangled gasps escaped you. You were slightly grateful, given the man was pushing in slowly— but you were sure this was done to tease you, and nothing more.

“Taking me like you were made for me, sweetheart. Fu..fuck, did you seriously clench from that?” Sukuna groaned, lips still curled into that shit-eating grin. Soon enough he was all the way in, eyes focused on you split around him.

You were only given a moment to relax, a single one— before the vampire was pulling his hips back, plunging them forward far too quickly. The pace started out relentless, unforgiving; hands gripping your legs as he shoved you deeper into the soiled sheets. Your hands gripped them tightly, continuous strings of moans escaping your bruised lips. Something that Sukuna ate up completely.

“Such a mess, so fucking ru— ruined for…—” Sukuna hissed between groans, gritting his teeth at the way your walls fluttered around him; squeezing his length perfectly. “— anyone but me. No one else could fuck you like this, could they?”

You shook your head quickly, voice far too focused on moaning to even respond. But that wasn’t enough for Sukuna— no, he needed to hear the words spill from your mouth no matter how shaky they were. So he leaned down, forcing your legs up; ankles tainted in your strawberry cheesecake perfume brushing against your ears.

“Use your fucking words, (Y/N). You’re mine aren’t you?” His thrusts became even rougher, drilling you into the mattress and watching you completely lose yourself.

The babbles of confirmation began, stumbling over your words and repeating them. The most distinct being a high-pitched; “Ye—yes, fuck-! Only yo..yours!”

Sukuna’s grin only deepened, face falling to your collarbone. “Mm.. all fucking mine.” He rasped against your sweltering skin, sinking his teeth in without a single warning.

That was enough to push you over the edge, coming all over his length, essence trickling down his balls. Despite how much you panted, how your tired body ached— you knew you were far from done.

Pulling back, Sukuna licked up the drop of crimson that escaped the bite mark. His eyes trailed down your form, enjoying the way your chest rose and fell from the heavy breaths that escaped you, your glossy eyes focused on him, and so much more. Perfect. You embodied every single aspect of the word.

And Sukuna just adored ruining such perfection.

“Not done..” He muttered more to himself than anything, slowly pulling out of you— ignoring the whine you released. With a single hand he was turning you onto your stomach, walking off the bed to stand at the edge of it. There, he gripped your ankle to drag you down. “On your knees sweetheart.. that’s a good girl, so obedient.” A cool hand grasped your warm cheek the moment your knees were pressed against the sheets.

To your surprise Sukuna grasped your wrists, pulling your arms back to fold behind you. Your body rested above the bed, looking back at the man who was still grinning.

“Sukun—!” Your words were interrupted the moment he sunk into you, resuming the previous pace as if never leaving in the first place. His hands kept a tight hold on your wrists, leaving you with no place to move or run from his thrusts. Each one shook your entire body, the impact causing your ass to shake. Your head went slack between your shoulders, crying out as he angled his hips just right; plunging against the sensitive spot within you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Hah…—“ You gasped for air, trembling as his hips never faltered. You felt another orgasm brewing, eyes squeezing shut as your hands moved uselessly in his hold. “Gonna come, gonna come!” You managed to squeal out, eyes widening the moment he released a wrist to reach around and rub quick circles on your clit.

“Go on, don’t hold back; make a fucking mess.”

With his permission you were creaming all on his dick, entire body going limp and hitting the bed the moment he released your arm. Your legs shook from the aftershocks, reaching back blindly as tired moans escaped you. Sukuna snickered, swatting your hand away as he leaned over your body; front flush against your back.

Right in your ear the man mocked your moans, fangs tracing the shell of it. “Can barely keep your eyes open, huh? You got such a big mouth for someone that can barely last a single round— ha..” Sukuna groaned cruelly, pinching you with his teeth just to hear you whine.

His arms slid around your middle, bullying your insides as he chased his release. Sukuna bit down on your shoulder hard, relishing in the hoarse cry that escaped your raw throat.

The vampire was so close now, thrust uncoordinated with his gaze getting hazy. His lips were still attached to your shoulder, sucking you while continuing to ruin you. As if you weren’t ruining him, too.

A drawn out moan escaped you, coming around his cock for the final time that night— gasping the moment warmth flooded into your pussy; his thick seed painting your walls white.

Heavy pants escaped you, completely fucked out and simply resting against the bed. It took a moment to gently swat the man that was still sucking your blood, whining about you getting dizzy. Sukuna finally let up, pulling back and licking the wound.

He removed his arms from around you, watching your tired body slump against the bed. Rolling off you, he laid on his back, reaching over to pull you to lay on his chest.

A comfortable silence entered the room, your face placed in his neck whilst his hand was on your waist; groping every once in a while.

“How am I gonna walk out without panties, Sukuna?” You questioned after a while, lifting from his neck to glance down at him. Sukuna turned to face you, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t know what to tell you..”

“Sukuna!”

reblogs & comments are appreciated <3

[skybluewritings]

Last Summer Part 2, Felix Catton x Fem!reader

word count: 2K

Masterlist

She would be staying with the Cattons for a month then return home a couple days before her flight to finish packing and give her tearful goodbyes. She paused the track on her iPod when she saw him pulling up to the station. Felix had insisted on coming himself to collect her despite her insistence that she was happy order a taxi.

The car came to a stop, she picked up the handle of her suitcase and walk down the steps of the station. Felix got out of his car, despite having seen each other only a week ago she couldn’t contain the rush of joy that seeing him brought. Her suitcase was momentarily discarded, she squealed as she flung her arms around his neck. His arms wound around her waist, he laughed as he lifted her a little. The wood and spice smell of his aftershave was intoxicating.

Once he had set her down she unwrapped her arms from his neck, grinning up at him. She glanced down noticing his arms were still around her waist, his palms resting on the small of her back. He also noticed this and immediately pulled away from her.

He cleared his throat. “Sorry about that.”

Heat spread through her stomach. “No it’s uh quite alright.”

Neither spoke for a moment, Felix clapped his hands together. “Right, shall we?”

“Yes, yeah, let’s go!”

She went to pick up her suitcase but he had beat her to it.

“I’ll be taking that.” He told her.

She scoffed. “I think I’m more than capable of carrying a suitcase.”

He shrugged. “Nope don’t care."

“You vex me.” She sighed, opening the car door and dropping into the seat.

“You love me really!” He sang, taking the suitcase and opening the car boot.

He was closer to the truth than he would ever know.

*

The car sped through the countryside, it was a bright and blazing day. The roof the convertible was down, the wind making her hair dance all around her. The upbeat tempo of music vibrated through the vehicle. She rested her arm against the window ledge, choosing to subtly gaze at Felix through her cat eye sunglasses. It was unfair how good he looked in his ray-ban sunglasses, her eyes traced the sharp curve of his jawline.

“I can feel you staring.” He said.

“I was very much not!” She replied defensively, looking away from and at the rode ahead.

“I’m not blind.” She couldn’t see him but she knew he was smirking.

“You flatter yourself too much.” She teased.

“I don’t think I flatter myself enough.” He replied, she playfully smacked his arm knowing he was joking. It may have seemed like a narcissistic thing to say but when it came down to it there wasn’t much about Felix that was self obsessed. He was not unaware of his own attractiveness but he didn’t carry himself in the way most vain men would.

“So how much further?” She asked.

“Another couple minutes I reckon.”

“Is there anything you haven’t told me that I should know? Like that your family is actually a coven of aristocratic vampires.”

“Just my mum!” He told her, before shaking his head. “No, there isn’t much that you don’t know already. My family can be somewhat traditional but pretty welcoming overall.”

“Will I be presented to your mum in the fashion of a debutante at court?”

He laughed. “Yes then you’ll be forced to dance a waltz with my dad.”

This made her laugh. “Sounds sexy.”

“Thank you for agreeing to come I really do appreciate it.” He told her taking her hand and giving it a warm squeeze.

She squeezed it back. “You’re welcome, I’m always here for you.”

“You too.” He said finally letting go of her hand.

Her pulse was far too fast and so was her spiralling mind. How was she going to manage a month with him?

*

They finally drove through the gates of Saltburn, as cliche as it sounded her mouth nearly fell open in sheer shock. It was the most elegant home she had ever seen. She knew he came from a lot of money but was still taken aback by the extravagance of it all. The car drive came to a stop inside a large garage full of a variety of old expensive cars.

 

Felix came round to her side opening the car door for her, in a gesture she thought only happened in old films.

 

“Thank you.” She told him with a smile.

 

He smiled back. “My mum would never forgive me if I didn’t.”

 

“I would have thought someone else parked your car for you?” She pointed out.

 

“Sometimes I like to do things for myself.” He explained matter of fact.

 

She supposed that was a fair answer, truthfully, she had no clue how the rules of anything of this worked. This was an extreme version wealth which she had never encountered before.

 

He opened the boot of the car, and she took out her suitcase pulling it behind her as they left the garage.

 

They reached the main foyer of the house, it had wide cavernous ceilings with various patterns carved into it. An older man in a suit dipped his head at them politely.

 

“(Name) this is Duncan the head Butler.”

 

Head Butler?! She thought. Was she in Pride and Prejudice?

 

Duncan gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Pleasure to meet you.”

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.” She replied trying to mimic his formal tone.

 

“I will have your luggage taken to your room.” Duncan told her.

 

(Name) waved her hands. “Oh no really it’s okay I can take it.”

 

Duncan’s face became more pinched. “No please I insist.”

Yeah she was not going to try argue with him.

 

“Well thank you then.” She said awkwardly.

 

She looked on helplessly as Duncan commanded another butler to take the suitcase.

 

Felix clearly sensing her discomfort pat her on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s go to the conservatory my mum will be dying to meet you.”

 *

 

There were three women in the conservatory, they were all sat on ornate chairs that faced opened glass doors. Two of the women were engrossed in a story the blonde woman was telling them. She stopped speaking when she noticed her friends had stopped paying attention to her and to instead the new arrivals. The blonde woman turned to see what they were staring at, her whole face lit up.

 

“My goodness darling you do know how to pick them don't you.” The blonde woman (who she had worked out was his mother) said to Felix.

 

She elegantly stood from her chair and practically sauntered toward them.

 

“This is my mum, Elspeth.” He told her.

 

“Lovely to meet y-“ Her words were cut off when Elspeth grabbed both sides of her face tilting it to one side then the other. (Name) winced at having her face manhandled.

 

“Mum stop that!” Her best friend scolded, gently swatting his Mother’s prying hands away.

 

Elspeth bought her hands to her chest. “I do apologise it’s just that I’m trying to figure out what it is about your beauty that draws my son in. I think it might be your eyes they’re rather lovely.”

 

It was a strange compliment, but still a compliment she supposed. “Oh thank you.” She said with a nervous smile. “However I’m pretty sure my physical appearance doesn’t really play a part in my friendship with Felix!”

 

Elspeth furrowed her brow. “Friendship?” She looked to her son. “Felix I thought she was your girlfriend.”

 

Girlfriend?!

 

He sighed. “Mum, I explicitly told you I had a friend coming to stay.”

 

“But the way you so lovingly spoke about her-“

 

“Anyway,” Felix said slightly too loud. “I am sure (Name) will want to get settled into her bedroom, we’ll see you for dinner.”

 

“But really it is wonderful to have you stay dear.” Elspeth told her kindly.

 

She found herself smiling genuinely. “Thank you.”

 

Felix led her out the conservatory with the same speed she led him out of the party.

*

Felix fell back onto the bed in the guest bedroom. He covered his face with both hands groaning into them. “Oh god I’m sorry, that was so embarrassing.”

 

She perched on the bed next to him. “I-I mean it wasn’t too bad. Your mum seems to at least like me!”

 

“Yeah I guess.” He removed his hands from his face. “But how could she imply that you and I-as if I am not capable of just having female friends.”

 

“You seemed to be pretty good friends with a lot of the girls at Oxford.” She snickered, pretending it didn’t hurt to know that.

 

He rolled his eyes. “How do you know?”

 

She flopped down next to him and playfully elbowed him. “I mean you weren’t exactly subtle in hiding it everyone kind of knew.”

 

 “Is that really how you see me?”

 

She turned to lie on her side. “No of course not-sorry I was only teasing.”

 

He didn’t look at her, instead picking at the buttons of his shirt. “I don’t like the idea that a bunch of people can just decide something about me, like they know me. I always made it clear I never wanted anything more from the people I was with. I’m not some heartless fuck boy. It makes me feel uncomfortable that some people might have that view of me...”

 

“Well I don’t.” She said softly. “No one’s perfect but you aren’t a bad guy, people know that even if they see your exploits differently to how you did.”

 

He now looked at her. “What do you think of me?”

 

Where should she start? “I think you’re just one of the kindest people I’ve ever met and that well-I can’t believe I’m existing in the same room as you.”

 

Maybe the last part was too much, but she couldn’t help it if she meant it. His lips parted at her words, he seemed at a momentary loss for words as he stared at her stunned. His full lips looked so inviting parted like that, it wouldn’t have taken her much to lean forward and find out. She chose to sit back up this was becoming too dangerous for her.

 

She cleared her throat. “Do with that what you will.”

 

He seemed to snap back to reality gradually sitting up next to her. “I’m sorry it took me a minute, it’s just- no one’s ever really said anything like that to me before.” He swallowed hard.

 

“Maybe it’s time that someone should.” She admitted.

He gave her a grateful smile that made everything inside her melt away. The moment passed when he stood up from the bed and offered out his hand to her which she gladly took as he pulled her to her feet. “Come on I’ll show you where the bathroom is.”

Tag list: @emitaylorsverson

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Adventures of a Songbird | The Future is a Foreign Land

(A/N) Another part, this time reflecting my current obsession "The Future is a Foreign Land". I'm not well.

Pairing: Simon x fem!Reader (platonic for now)

Warning: my obsession with Ghost and this song, pls help

Synopsis: Let's just say you got your callsign for a reason.

Finally, the day you waited for every few months had arrived. As soon as your alarm went off, excitement filled your body. After all, you could spend half of the day training what you wanted, and after that, there would be a huge barbecue. No rules, no bossy Price yelling at you, no cardio, and most importantly, no party pooper Ghost and good food afterward. Heaven.

You popped in your earbuds, the new song of one of your favorite bands playing on loop, while you got ready for the day. All too soon, you were on your way to the mess hall to get breakfast and listen to the monthly speech about enjoying the day but keeping the training serious.

Once you sat down with the rest of the Taskforce, you pulled out your earbuds and joined in the conversation, quickly noticing that Ghost wasn’t there. To a questioning look from you, Johnny just shrugged before he continued to stuff his face with porridge. If you weren’t already used to that display, you’d be slightly disgusted.

“So, what did you guys choose for training today?”

Price looked from one member to the other. Johnny answered through a mouth full of goo, making you visibly cringe.

“Hand-to-hand combat. Excited tae shaw some recruits what’s business.”

You chuckled, Johnny was right after all. For some reason, hand-to-hand was a favorite amongst the recruits. You understood its importance, but you were happy if you could skip it for a day. Kyle was next to answer.

“I’m doing survival in the woods.”

Price, who had rolled his eyes at Johnny’s answer, nodded appreciatively at Kyle’s. Then he turned to you.

“Oh, uhm, I’m going to the shooting range. Spend some time on aim et cetera.”

A small smile spread on Price’s lips, but again he nodded, so you didn’t pay it any extra mind. Well, you really should have.

As soon as you were done with breakfast and the speech was over, you left the mess hall and made your way to the shooting range, your earbuds back in your ears, and the music flowing. You started to hum along, a smile on your lips. That smile only grew when you entered the building and saw that it was mostly empty. There were the two soldiers at the front who were responsible for general safety and handling the weapons. Besides those, there were only two other soldiers, both recruits. So, you checked out your favorite gun, as well as a few magazines, and went to the other end of the range.

You quickly got ready, putting on the earmuffs and taking the weapon apart to check if everything was okay before you put it back together and loaded it. Before taking on the stance, you turned up the music. Then you were ready.

You were completely in your zone, slightly swinging your hips as you quietly sang along to the song that was playing on repeat. And all of that while shooting at the target.

“When it all burns down. When it all burns down. I will hold you close for the minute. Yeah, I'll hold you for the minute it takes.”

With the last word, you shoot one more time, before putting the safety back on and placing the gun down in front of you. You press the button to move the target sheet closer while taking off the earmuffs, heaving a sigh of relief as that also takes off the pressure from your ears. You would never get used to that.

The sheet was about to finally be close enough to properly inspect when the music suddenly faded from your left ear. You quickly turn to look in that direction, just to be met with the broad chest of Ghost. And between his fingers, and awfully close to his ear, was your earbud.

“Hey, give that back!”

You reach up to pluck it out of his fingers, but he easily swats your hand away with one of his, while listening to the song. And to your surprise, he starts to slightly nod along.

“It’s good.”

Ghost hands the earbud back before moving to the station next to yours. Without any further acknowledgment, he starts to prep his gun just as you did, before taking aim. You manage to pull your earmuffs back on, just in time to not be deafened by the shot. You scuff at him, annoyed but also surprised at what had transpired earlier.

You decide to continue with your training until the barbecue is announced via the intercom. You, along with the other soldiers, cleaned up and handed the guns back, before making your way to the back of the mess hall, where the grills were already hot and food was already ready.

You grabbed a plate and piled it with all your favorite food, before finding your team and sitting down with them. While you were chatting about what everyone had done during the last few hours, you couldn’t help but complain about the music that was being played.

“I just hate it.”

Without saying anything, Ghost stood up and left the table. You thought nothing of it, at least not until “The Future is a Foreign Land” started playing. You quickly looked over and saw Ghost moving back towards your table, from the direction of the soldier who was in charge of the music. And sure enough, that soldier looked like he had just wet his pants.

Once Ghost sat down again and the others were preoccupied with another topic, you leaned over to him, placing a hand on his bicep.

“Thank you.”

He just nodded in response, but you swear that you could see a slight crinkling around his eyes, even with his balaclava hiding most of his face.

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Call of Duty - Masterlist

Master-Masterlist

Like what you're reading? Buy me a coffee!

[i-am-baechu]

Summary: Everything was perfect until it wasn’t. Y/N and Jungkook love each other but when familiar and new faces come into their lives, things get complicated. On top of that, a surprise that truly shakes their plans for the future. Will their relationship push forward or will Jungkook lose his fangirl once and for all?

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·

Epilogue

→ Genre: Idol au, established relationships, girl group stan au, social media au, K-pop fan page au, romance, angst, comedy, and smut

→ Main pairing: Idol! Jungkook x Fan girl! Reader 

→ Side ships: Yoongi x OC & Jin x OC

→ Warnings: Explicit language, smut, mature themes, alcohol usage, anxiety disorder, stalking, and obsessive behavior

Author's note: I can’t believe this is the ending of the story! Don’t worry there's going to be an after story with the drabbles and the final book but for now...here's the last chapter! 

⇜ Masterlist 

“Solo?”

Jungkook turned toward Y/N and nodded his head, “We’re not disbanding, just taking a hiatus and focusing on our solo careers.” 

After a long meeting, Jungkook was excited to come home to his fiancée. It was a long meeting discussing the future of everyone. Everyone agreed they wanted to do their own music and Jungkook wanted to focus more on Y/N. It would be the first real break he had with her and his music can wait. 

Y/N nodded her head and placed her hand on top of his, “Are you okay with it?”

“Of course I am. I get to spend so much time with my fiancée.” 

She smiled shyly at this and gently rubbed his knuckles with her thumb, “fiancée..it still hasn’t set in.” 

“Babe, it’s been two months already.” 

She shrugged her shoulders and glanced at a sleeping Bam, “I’m really getting married...that’s crazy to say.” She looked back at him with a smile, “I bet Mae is happy about this. Yoongi gets to spend time with-” Just then Bam jumped up on the couch and nuzzled into Y/N.

Jungkook glared and shook his head, “Always trying to steal my girl. It’s not fair.”

“We're engaged, Jungkook.” 

“Doesn’t matter. Bam will always find a way.” 

Mae turned around in the bed and smiled at Yoongi who was already looking at her. He pushed some hair back and kissed her forehead, “How are you feeling?” 

Mae let out a small chuckle and nuzzled into her pillow some more, “I feel like my pussy got ripped in half but other than that good.”

Yoongi let out a laugh and kissed her hairline, “Thank you for giving me everything I didn’t know I wanted.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist and nuzzled into his chest, “Thank you for making me want kids.” 

Just then a small cry echoed from the baby monitor and Mae groaned. Yoongi patted her waist and pushed the covers off, “I’ll get him. Ye-Joon probably just needs his diapers changed.” 

Mae nodded her head and smiled at her, “Okay, daddy.”

Yoongi glared at her and shook his head, “Don’t start with that shit.” 

“Wait, come here real quick.”

Yoongi thought something was wrong and quickly made his way back to her. She smirked and brought him in for a quick kiss making his eyes go wide. When they pulled away she put her forehead on his, “I love you so much, Min Yoongi.” 

“I love you, Mae Rodriguez.”

The cry echoed longer and she let out a small laugh, “Go get our son before he breaks our eardrums.” 

“I’ll get our son.” Yoongi walked towards his bedroom but he turned back to Mae and his heart fluttered. He shook his head with a small laugh escaping his lips and he closed the door gently. 

Eunbi opened her door and she raised her eyebrow at what she saw, “Namjoon? Why are you here?” 

Namjoon sighed and pulled out a card from his jacket, “Jin wanted me to give you this.” 

Eunbi tilted her head and nodded her head, “This isn’t going to kill me, right?”

“Why would your boyfriend want to kill you?”

“Right...” She opened the card and a smile appeared, Go to the park! She looked at Namjoon with a curious look, “Do you know about this?”

“I never know what Jin wants to do.”

“You can come in and get a snack if you want.” 

Namjoon shook his head and brought his jacket to him, “I’m alright. I’d rather not be here when you guys have sex.” 

Eunbi’s face turned red and furrowed her eyebrows, “Yah! Don’t say that so loud. My neighbors are old.”

“Lucky, at least they don’t have to hear anything.” 

After kicking Namjoon out, Eunbi took her away to the park next to her apartment. She was dressed in her pajamas which consisted of sweats and one of Jin’s shirts. She pulled her beanie down more when she felt the wind touching her face. She rolled her eyes at herself, she should’ve put a jacket on. She walked further down and she stopped in her tracks to see Jin with a bouquet of roses and balloons. She raised her eyebrow and let out a small laugh, “What’s going on?” 

He pulled down his mask and gave her a smile, “Happy three months.” 

She looked up at him and felt her heart beating faster, “That’s tomorrow?” 

“I know...I couldn’t wait to see you.” 

She let out a laugh and walked closer to her as he did the same. She looked up at him as he stared back down with heart eyes, “All this for out three months?” 

“Just wait and see our first anniversary.” 

“You're already planning that? We just started dating...” 

He shrugged his shoulders and bent down placing a quick kiss on her lips. She jumped at the sudden contact but she closed her eyes to kiss back. When they pulled away and he smiled at her, “I have so much planned for us. I told you, I saw my future with you.”

“All those rom-coms couldn’t prepare me for this.” 

He let out a laugh and glanced at her apartment, “I’ll cook you something. To celebrate tonight and tomorrow I’ll take you out to this fancy restaurant.” 

“You treat me right.”

“Of course my duchess.” 

Jungkook closed the door and saw Y/N on her phone on their bed. He smiled at this and took off his shirt, tossing it aside. She glanced up from her phone and smiled, “Is Bam sleeping?”

“Yeah, I was wondering...when was the last time we fucked?” 

Y/N straighten her back against the headboard, “I-I...maybe two weeks.” 

He glanced at her with a smirk, “That’s a long time. Wanna change that?” 

“I think it would be romantic to have one last night in this house before moving.” 

Jungkook moved towards her and was hovering over her, “That’s right. We’re moving. Isn’t that exciting?”

She felt goosebumps appear when she felt his fingers against her thigh, “I-It’s very exciting-” She wanted to speak but he kissed her making her forget everything. She ran her hands along his arms and then over his shoulders to steady herself. She played with his locks because they pulled away. Jungkook touched her like she was glass and she couldn’t stop her heart beating, “I love you so much.” 

He brushed his lips over her next and her breathing started to get uneven. She felt her body heat up as she enjoyed his kisses. He took any fabric that was covering her body and she couldn’t help but look away from that smile he always has when he sees her like this. He started to trailed his lips down to her neck and then her collarbone as he gazed up. His eyes were a darker shade of brown and she knew what it meant. She knew what his eyes told her, this was her fiancé after all. He continued to leave kisses on her skin until he reached between her thighs. His hot breath against her cold skin sent shivers. He wrapped his arms around her thighs keeping her close to his face, his fiancée was shy, especially with this action. 

She held onto his brown strands as she felt her body move against him. Each kiss and lick made her back arch in a way that made the air in the room thicker. She could feel a few strands of sweat coming down as her legs trembled under his touch. His tongue was always enough for her. Moments later, the trembling increased as his tongue rushed in. 

He leaned over and kissed, his lips always felt soft and always filled with love. She placed her hand on his cheek and rubbed his cheek gently, “You always make me feel good.” 

“You make me feel good. Physically and emotionally. Always make me feel loved, my wife.” 

He hugged her body close to his and she was surprised by the action but she understood. After everything they've been through, this moment was more than a declaration of love. It was a declaration of a better future. She let her nails gently scratch his skin and he left kisses against his shoulder. She moaned out his name as he moved in and out of her. It was intimate, so intimate. He placed his temple against her and they made eye contact, “You are so perfect...perfect for me. My Y/N.” 

She felt her heart swell up at this and she had to stop herself from crying. This man was her everything and she couldn’t believe that this man was all hers. Forever and ever. She pushed some hair away from his sweaty forehead and gave him a shy smile, “I love you Jeon Jeongguk.” 

He smiled and kissed her as she wrapped her arms around his neck to bring him closer. She felt herself tighten and the familiar tremble came over, “Come, love.” 

She tilted her head and moaned out his name as she came inside of her. Both eyes met and she could see the love pouring out, “Are you ready for the future?”

“If you're in it, I’m ready for anything.” 

Somewhere in Florida....

He glanced down at the news article on his phone and let out a scoff, “She’s getting married to him?” 

The woman in front of him nodded her head, “A lot of people support them but there's a small group that doesn’t like it.” 

He tossed his phone on the dinner table and glanced out to the waves, “What do you want me to do about it?” 

“Every bride needs her father...go visit her.” 

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·

Tag List:

@agustdpeach @mdavt @aloverga @drissteele @xngelsau

[miss-celestia13]

Sweeter Than Fiction

Jake x MC First Date One Shot

Words: 2.4k

Jake and MC go on their first real date. Shy, and awkward, Jake can’t seem to get his words to come out right. Luckily, MC is fluent in Jake and she is delighted to help him figure it out.

It is very fluffy, very sweet and super soft. I haven’t named MC, or described her in detail. I wrote this instead of the battle I’ve dreaded for months, and the epilogue I should have posted weeks ago🤭❤️

Jake

Anxiety was simply an electrical storm in his brain. A painful, confusing, and frustrating storm, but he knew it was all caused by himself. That didn’t stop him from fretting. Pacing the floors, biting his nails to the quick as he tried and failed to gather the courage to knock on her door. Why was he so nervous? He was taking her out for their first real date. He’d spent the last few days with her, always leaving before it got too late, yet he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking as he stared at the door. His shirt collar turned into a noose, and he couldn’t get enough air. It was stupid. He knew that, but it didn’t matter. Emotions didn’t respond to logic, and he hadn’t yet learned how to calm them.  

Sighing, shaking his head, and desperately ignoring the creeping shame crawling up his neck, he squared his shoulders, raised his fist, and gave the door 3 sharp knocks before his mind could turn against him again. He held his breath as running footsteps could be heard on the other side of the door. The metallic click of a key turning in the lock made it to his ears over the fierce beat of his heart. And there she was. Smiling brightly, a vision of loveliness and freedom as she beckoned him inside and told him to wait while she grabbed her purse and jacket. Her blue sundress fluttered around her calves, and her loose hair fell down her back in gentle waves. She was a daydream he’d never dared to allow himself to have.   

“What do you think?” She asked as she emerged from her bedroom, giving him a twirl and an expectant smile.   

He thought many things as he ran his gaze over her small form. Stunning, perfect, and far too good for him, but he wouldn’t be the one to tell her that. She hadn’t listened the first time, and he wanted to keep her.   

“You look like music.” He said and wanted to slap himself as she frowned and cocked a brow.   

“I look like music? Is that Jake language, or are you nervous?” She teased. His cheeks were on fire, and the noose/collar around his throat tightened more as her lips curled upward.  

“I’m nervous, but I meant it. You look like music you can get lost in, the kind that makes you want to dance and feel it.”  

Her smile wobbled slightly, eyes sparkling as she turned her gaze to the floor and shook her head. He immediately assumed she was upset and cursed his lack of confidence. But then she grinned, and he saw only joy in her endless eyes.   

“I think that’s the best compliment I’ve ever received.”   

Jake breathed a sigh of relief, his head spinning as she sidled up to him and slipped her arm through his. Somehow, it became easy, simple, and straightforward as they left her house and walked to his car. He opened her door for her, reluctant to let her go but impatient to get their night started. As they drove away, she quickly connected her phone to the car speakers, and he relaxed as music filled the charged silence between them. He kept stealing glances at her, hungrily memorizing every detail to obsess over later. The summer sun had tinted her skin the color of honey, and more freckles sprinkled like glitter across her cheeks from long summer days working in her garden. She was most at home with her hands in the dirt, leaves in her hair, and flowers blooming wild around her.  

He was useless at keeping plants alive and preferred to watch her in her element while he worked on his laptop in the shade. She peppered him with random questions as they drove. He was grateful as it took his mind off of how clammy his hands were on the steering wheel. She quizzed him on everything from his favorite song to his most hated subject during his school years. Hanging on his every word like he held the answer to everything she'd ever wondered in her life. It was difficult to concentrate on the road, so enchanted by the woman riding shotgun he couldn't focus as well as he should. Luckily, the road was quiet, and they were soon pulling into a parking spot behind the restaurant.

Instead of a Chinese place, he'd chosen a little mom-and-pop Italian restaurant. They had eaten Chinese takeout for the last couple of days, and neither fancied it again tonight. He got out of the car and hurried around the front of it to open her door. Her coy smile of thanks boosted his confidence a little as she again took his arm, and they made their way to the entrance. Once inside, they were taken to a table in the corner, away from too many prying eyes, and Jake thanked the waitress after giving their drink orders. They were handed menus and were soon left to peruse them. He doubted he would be able to taste anything and blindly picked the first pasta dish his eyes landed on and set his menu down. 

Fidgeting fingers gave away his nerves as she put her menu on the table and eyed him carefully. 

“Jake, why do you look like you're about to jump off a cliff?” She chuckled lightly, eyes full of understanding.  

He cleared his throat, scratched the back of his neck, and avoided her opal gaze as he replied, “I'm just not used to being able to do things like this. I wasn't prepared for how overwhelming it would be.”

She tilted her head, “How can we make it less scary, then?” 

Jake went very still, eyes widening and utterly shocked she hadn't laughed or mocked him. All he saw was kindness and affection on her sweet face, and it made him a little braver.

“I think I just have to get used to it,” He shrugged, knowing he'd be nervous until the paranoia and fear he was being watched fully lifted.

She considered it, nodding once as she reached across the table and gently stopped him from picking at his nails, threading her fingers through his as she said, “So, exposure therapy then? We'll work together, and maybe it'll shift faster.” She winked, making him laugh and shake his head.

His fingers tingled pleasantly, and a delightful warmth spread from his chest, down to his legs, and up his neck, burning away some of the fear thickening his tongue.

“If you think that'll help, I trust your superior knowledge of how humans behave. If it doesn't come with a power button, I'm lost,” He jested sarcastically, so she grinned and flashed those distracting dimples again.

“I'll have you mimicking humans perfectly within a month.” She declared, nodding decisively as the waitress returned with their drinks, and they gave her their order.

And just like that, he could ignore the buzzing in his ears. The nerves faded to a muffled chattering in the back of his head as they discussed what movie they'd watch later. She was partial to cheesy horror movies, while he hadn't seen many movies to have an opinion. Whenever he struggled for words, she read them on his face and supplied him with the right ones. He was used to frustration and scorn whenever he couldn't handle something in a social setting, but she never even blinked and seemed able to read between the lines of his frown or smile. It was a new kind of freedom, and the restaurant felt more like hallowed sacred ground to him. Like he'd entered a dreamland full of happy chatter, the fragrance of freshly cooked tomatoes and garlic, the vivid colors, it all seemed oddly unreal.

When the waitress brought their meals, they fell into a peaceful quiet as they ate and only spoke to offer each other bites of food or to ponder whether to share a desert or get one each. It was effortless once he was out of his head, and it was good, real, and right. He might be a mess of tangled-up emotions, flaws, and enough baggage to fill a train, but she wanted him anyway, and it was enough. Love. He hadn't known it for a long time, thought he wouldn't recognize it when it showed up, but he felt it now. It was a quiet emotion lurking under the louder ones as it slowly became part of the oxygen he needed to breathe. Often it felt like it wasn't there at all, but when she was gone, he was gasping and choking for air until she returned. Something that constantly paced along his ribcage settled whenever she was near, and it felt like magic.

Pushing his plate away, surprised he'd managed to eat and enjoy it, he relaxed in his chair, took a drink of water to clear his mouth of the herbs. She was done soon after and leaned her elbows on the table, lowering her voice so only he would hear.

“I think we should get two desserts to go. I can't decide between the tiramisu and cheesecake. We can eat the leftovers for breakfast, or a midnight snack” her singular eyes twinkled under the dim lights, and his stomach dipped, butterflies taking flight.

He knew what she was implying, and he wanted to spend the night with her more than he wanted to live. His imagination was sorely lacking in the romance department, and he was terrified he'd forgotten how to act or respond during an intimate encounter. Still, her breezy manner and lighthearted way of approaching his tendency to brood and fret soothed the ragged, raw nerves under his skin. Like aloe on sunburn, she knew how to relieve and quell the sting of everything he failed to say. So he ordered the two deserts and had them packed to go. Her smile never wavered, and he drew confidence from it. She clearly wanted this and him. He just had to believe he deserved it. It was enough for now that she believed it, and he hoped to learn in time how to do so himself. 

The sky when they stepped outside, was a livid, violent bruise overhead. Shades of pink, violet, and red blended and clashed as the sun turned into bed, the fading light casting long shadows on the tarmac under their feet. She turned her face to the sky and inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering shut as he wished he were skilled in the arts so he could paint her at that moment. He smiled as she opened her eyes and held his hand out. Static fizzed up his arm when she took it, and they slowly made their way to the car. Playing the gentleman, he opened her door first and waited for her to get inside, but she stared up at him expectantly, and his heart took off in a gallop as her hand cupped his cheek. Leaning into her touch, pressing his forehead to hers, and admiring the myriad of colors in her changeable eyes, he drew in a breath that infused him with her warm, sweet scent.

“You should always kiss your date before leaving. It's dating law.” She murmured, nuzzling his nose with hers, and he felt as if he would float away if she dropped her hand.

“We're going home together. I didn't think it counted,” He whispered, just to taste her laugh on his parted lips a mere inch from hers.

“Silly man, it always counts.” 

Before he could chicken out, he closed the distance between them and marveled at how soft her lips were, pliant and supple as they melted into his. Every kiss felt like the first, like he had finally returned home after years at sea or stranded in some wasteland. Tender, gentle, and insistent, she soon yielded to him and let him inside. Her other hand curled into his shirt, pulling him even closer, and he sank his fingers into her lush hair, tilting her head for better access as she hummed low in her throat. He lost himself in her and never wanted to be found. She shivered when he gently nipped her plump bottom lip with his teeth, and he wanted to see what else he could do that would make her react like that. There was only one way to find out, and he begrudgingly parted from her, kissing the tip of her nose as she blinked dazed eyes and clumsily got in the car. 

The beaming grin he wore as they drove home would not fall away until long after they tumbled into bed and passed out. Certainty he was where he was supposed to be soaked into his bones, and all his doubts scattered in the winds under the heat of her touch. He once thought himself cursed, fashioned for a life of hollow, aching numbness that haunted him even in his dreams. Destined never to forge a connection or relationship where he could be himself and reveal the scars of his life free of judgment. He saw now it wasn't true and this was real. Love didn't scream or shout; it didn't make any commotion at all when it appeared. It silently defended, protected, and comforted those it touched. She saw his scars and kissed each one, promising never to add to his collection while he breathed the same promises into her hair before she fell asleep. 

It was rare, exquisite, and slightly tarnished after all that had happened, but it threaded them together, and he would treasure it, treasure her. For he knew what a life with no love looked like, and he no longer wanted to be a phantom in his own life. The last five years of his life didn't exist. He wanted to live a life of firsts and lasts with her, mark every moment in a tangible way so they could look back years from now and say, “We were there.” And he started with a selfie of the two of them the next morning. Rumpled hair, pillow marks on their faces, and grins so wide they barely fit the screen of his phone marked their first night together. That photo was how he knew he truly believed he was free. He was very far from the man he'd been when they'd first spoken and glad of it as they danced around her kitchen, making breakfast and planning their day. He was happy. And all at once, it was enough.

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

Thank you for reading! And if you like, comment or reblog, thank you for that too. I hope you enjoyed it. I just love fluff🥰

Part 3: Silver and Gold

[cadybear420]

Performance for fluffember🤍

The Voice of an Angel

Fandom: High School Story (Original Trilogy)

Pairings: Aiden Zhou x Evie Ayana (female HSS MC), maybe with a small side of Ajay Bhandari x Cher Lee (female HSS:CA MC)

Characters: Aiden Zhou, Evie Ayana (female HSS MC)

Rating: G

Warnings: None

Additional Tags: Fluff, Singing, Performance, Dancing

Word Count: 2,128

Summary: On Evie’s 18th birthday, Aiden and the jazz band whip up a little surprise for her. Takes place approximately between HSS:CA 2 and HSS:CA 3 (though my memory of the HSS:CA timeline is a little more fuzzy).

A/N: First of all: to the anon who sent the prompt, major apologies for sleeping on it for so long. Coming up with writing ideas is a bitch, but it is something I want to do more often. And there was also that one time when Tumblr turned off editing for answers to asks, which carried over to the draft post for this for a while. Second of all, I’m fucking obsessed with this song from Doctor Who (“My Angel Put the Devil in Me”, from the Series 3 soundtrack) and I think Evie and Aiden would be as well. Third of all, yes this is a belated birthday fic for Evie, but I’m glad to get it out before the end of Evie’s birthday month at least. Also haha both Evie’s birthday this year and in the setting of the fic were on a Friday. Fourth of all, arghrghrargh my first time writing a fic where one character sings to another AND does a choreographed dance to it too. It’s a lot more difficult than I imagined lol. 

(Also, the outfit I imagine for the other jazz band kids)

Prompt: Performance

Source for prompts here. Even though it's long past November, I'll still accept prompt suggestions from this list year-round.

Tags: @inlocusmads @aces-and-angels @aria-ashryver @lover-also-fighter-also @jerzwriter @choicesmc @3rdstreetfrank @dutifullynuttywitch @lovealexhunt @lilyoffandoms @peonierose (as this is the complete version of this WIP and this challenge bit), and @choicesficwriterscreations

Friday, March 8, 2019. The day of Evie’s 18th birthday. She’d been planning to host a birthday party at one of her favorite restaurants in the city, starting in the early evening after school. Almost everyone she knew from school was invited. 

It was late in the afternoon now. Evie took one last look at herself in her new outfit– a navy blue suit with a purple floral necktie– and grinned, before dashing to the living room. There, her dad was checking his phone. 

“Alright, I’m ready to go!” she said. 

He turned to her. “Actually… we can’t leave just yet…”

She pouted. “What??? But Daaaad, the party starts at 5 PM and it’s already 4:45!”

“The people doing the decorations are… taking a bit longer than expected.”

“Oh…”

“It’s a bit awkward to go to a party when they’re still putting decorations up, isn’t it?”

“That’s true,” her face softened. “Do the other guests know?”

“...yep! I’ve just told them, in fact.”

“Okay… but how long do we have to wait?”

“Shouldn’t be more than… ten to twenty minutes?”

Evie pouted again. 

“It’s not that long…”

“Okay, fiiiiine, I’ll be patient…”

“And I’ll be doctor!”

Evie winced. “Dad, NO…”

…

About twenty minutes passed, and then finally, her dad said it was okay to start driving to the restaurant. After a fifteen minute drive, they arrived, and Evie wasted no time going in. 

The room was alive with upbeat music, purple decorative lights and flowers, and many of Evie’s friends. It seemed like just about everyone she’d invited had shown up– her main friend group, her teammates, her friends from the other cliques and Hearst, Cher and her friends from theatre, the seniors from last year who hadn’t gone away for college… 

And all of them greeted her with a big “Happy birthday, Evie!!!”, in unison. 

Evie inhaled, beaming at her friends. Many of them ran over to hug her, a few others cheered for her. 

Then she saw Emma and Cher push their way through the crowd and grab her by her arms. 

“Evie! There’s a special surprise for you, right now!” said Cher. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah!” said Emma. “Just come with us…” 

The crowd parted, making way for Emma and Cher to pull Evie to the opposite side of the room. As they did, the party music slowly faded out and the lights began to dim. 

“What the–” Evie started. 

“Shhhh. You’ll see soon enough!” Emma replied. 

When they made it to the opposite end of the room, a warm spotlight turned on over her, and there she saw it. The jazz band, all set up with their instruments and dressed in matching snazzy black-and-red suits and… devil horns? Yes, devil horns. 

And at the front of it all… was none other than her beautiful boyfriend Aiden, all dressed up and holding a microphone. 

Evie just about stopped in her tracks as she took in his outfit– a snug, ivory-colored flapper dress that had silver beads sewn into intricate patterns, and hung just barely above his knees. Along with that, he also wore a couple of matching long pearl necklaces, a fluffy white halo accessory over his head, and winged eyeliner.

“Wow…” Evie felt her breath catch. “Aiden, you look–”

Just then, Aiden signaled to the band… and they started to play. 

Evie grinned broadly, her eyes immediately lighting up at the familiar upbeat jazzy tune, and watched intently as her boyfriend danced towards her, in steps that were careful and rhythmic, yet lively. 

Then the tempo slowed, and he held the microphone to his mouth and began to sing. 

“I'm a country girl, I ain't seen a lot… But you came along, and my heart went pop! You took a little streetcar to my heart… And an apple of love fell off my apple cart~”

Evie’s cheeks flustered at his melodious voice. This wasn’t the first time she’d heard him sing– he’s sung to her plenty of times, and they’d practically been doing Evie-Aiden duets since the day they met. But this… this was different. Aiden had never done a solo singing performance for her before, let alone one that involved a bit of dance as well. 

“You looked at me, my heart began to pound… You weren't the sort of guy I thought would stick around… Hey, but it don't have to be eternally… My bad, bad Angel put the Devil in me~”

And his singing voice was all the more different this time around too. Even later into their relationship, as Aiden had become more confident about his singing, there was always still a hint of nervousness in his voice when they sang their duets. But this time, he sang loud and clear. Like he was owning the stage. 

Aiden performed a small twirl before stopping, his eyes meeting hers as he began slowly walking up to her, making her heart jump a little.

“You lured me in with your cold grey eyes… Your simple smile, your bewitching lies…”

As he sang that verse, he reached out and grabbed onto her bright purple tie, making Evie’s face heat up as he began tugging on it gently and pulling her closer to him. 

“One and one and one is three… My bad, bad Angel… the Devil in me~!”

The tempo picked up again. Aiden let go of her tie and took her hand in his as he broke out into energetic dance movements while still singing the lyrics to the song, the skirt of his dress swishing about as he swayed gracefully to the instrumental music. 

Evie squeezed his hand and matched his movements, her pulse racing now.  All the while, the crowd watched with excitement. When they came face-to-face again, she was giving him an almost drunken smile.

Soon enough, Aiden broke from her hold and turned around, sashaying slightly as he started stepping away from her… before looking over his shoulder, catching her gaze once again. 

“My bad, bad Angel~ you put the Devil in me~”

Aiden shook his butt side-to-side to the beat, giving Evie a knowing look that made her cheeks brighten. The music slowed, and he turned around to face her again. 

“So, now my dear, I ain't the girl you knew… 'Cause the Angel's got Heaven, but I get you…”

He sauntered back up to her.

“And the tree of life grows tall, you see… My bad, bad Angel… you put the Devil in me~!”

The beat slowed to a more gentle, relaxed tune as Aiden placed his arm over Evie’s shoulder. 

“Oh… You put the Devil in me~”

Aiden gestured towards Evie’s arm, and she placed her arms around him, taking hold of his waist as they began to rock together. 

“You put the Devil in me…”

Gently and smoothly, Aiden broke out of her hold and took her hand again. Lifting her hand, he twirled himself under her arm, then placed himself backwards against her body– all without missing a beat. 

As Aiden continued to sing, Evie wrapped both of her arms around his middle, embracing him from behind. Aiden pressed back against her and placed his free arm over hers, almost as if to hold her arms in place, as they began to sway side-to-side together again. Evie practically melted into him, his body warm against hers. 

“You put the Devil in me…”

Then, the song picked up again. 

“You put the Devil in… me~!”

He swiftly yet carefully broke from her hold again, and danced in a circle around her as he sang the last few verses of the song. She turned to follow him, their eyes locked onto each other yet again, as he gave her an almost sultry gaze. 

“My bad, bad Angel, you put the Devil in me!”

At the final note, the lights slowly faded back on. Aiden stood in front of the now cheering crowd and took a huge bow, grinning proudly. 

Once he straightened back up, Evie finally let out a high pitched “EEEEEEEEEEEE!!!”, bouncing up and down before leaping onto Aiden, sweeping him up into her arms, and spinning him around. Aiden gasped, dropping his microphone with a loud *thunk*– but then quickly held her face in his hand and pulled her in for a passionate kiss, prompting the crowd to cheer louder. 

After a moment, Aiden broke the kiss. “Happy eighteenth birthday, Darling~”

Evie squeezed him tighter. “Aiden, that was…” She took a deep breath, a starstruck look in her eyes. “Your singing is amazing… I mean, I’ve heard you sing before, obviously, but…”

A slight but visible rosy tint grew on his cheeks. 

“But I’ve never done a singing performance for you, I know. I figured it was about time I did.”

“And you were fucking amazing. I’ve never heard you sing like that before… like, you were already good, but I didn’t know you were this good…”

“I mean… practice makes perfect, after all…”

“That’s true…”

He planted a small kiss onto her lips, making her whole body warm up. 

“And what made you choose that song from Doctor Who for your first performance? I mean, obviously I love the song–”

“That’s just it. I know how much you love the song, and the episodes it came from.” He chuckled softly. “And, I mean… I don’t blame you. It is a fantastic song.”

Evie’s smile grew wider. “God, Aiden… I fucking love you.”

“I love you too, Evie.” 

They pulled each other in for one more kiss, holding each other tightly, before she set him down. 

“And I love your outfit too… you look absolutely gorgeous, as always~”

Even as Aiden beamed at her so brightly, his cheeks turned as red as the other band members’ devil costumes, prompting Evie to giggle.

“Well… I have been having a lot of fun trying on new outfits…” he said, softly. 

At that moment, Ajay and Cher popped up beside them. 

“Hey… if Aiden likes singing, dancing, and dressing up in fancy outfits now… you think we could convince him to join the upcoming spring musical?” Ajay said. “His talent would just be unmatched…”

Evie and Aiden turned towards them. 

“The next play’s gonna be a musical?” Evie said. “I’ve been wanting to act in a play, but, uh… I don’t think I’m ready for one that involves singing…”

Aiden raised an eyebrow at her. “But we’ve literally been doing duets ever since–”

“That’s different. I can sing alright when it’s more casual, but in a professional musical performance? I’m not that good.”

“You should still consider it!” Cher chirped. “If not an acting role, you can always still be an assistant director or a techie…”

“That sounds much more my speed.”

Cher turned to Aiden. “You should definitely consider trying out for a singing role, though!”

Aiden put his hand on his chin thoughtfully. “It could be fun… I know Evie doesn’t want to sing in a musical, but imagine if we got lead roles together…”

“Oh, perhaps I could be convinced now…” Evie said, before smirking playfully. “But, let’s be real. Put Aiden in the musical, and he’ll probably just upstage all the other singers with how good he is. He’ll make everyone else look like chumps.”

“Hey!” Cher exclaimed, her face scrunching up into a pout. “Are you saying I sing like a chump?”

“What– no, I–” Evie’s face fell. 

Cher dropped her pout and grinned again. “Kidding! You probably have a point… I do sing every now and then, but it could use a little more work. Especially since I’m planning to go for an acting role in the musical, of course.”

“Well, if we can’t get Aiden in a singing role for the musical, perhaps he can be a musical director and help coach the actors who are a little more inexperienced?” Ajay suggested. 

“Actually… that’s a great idea!” Aiden said, his face lighting up. “I’d love to do that!”

Ajay beamed. “Oh, perfect! We’ll talk to Mr. Olson on Monday.”

“I’ll need some time to think about it… but I’ll let you know if I do decide to accept.”

“Sounds good to me!” Ajay reached his hand out, and he and Aiden shook hands. “Anyways, great job on your performance, Aiden! And happy birthday, Evie!”

“Yeah! Happy birthday, Evie!!!” cheered Cher. 

“Aww, thank you both so much!” 

Evie gave each of them a warm hug before they walked off. Aiden placed his arms around her and kissed her on the cheek, and she turned back to him.

“Thank you so much, Aiden. For being the best boyfriend ever, and for giving me this awesome birthday.” 

“It’s my pleasure~” Aiden hugged her tighter. “But… there’s still more, of course. Ready to enjoy the rest of your birthday party?”

“Oh yes!”

[ladyzimmerman]

Come Back To Me

Pairing: Commander Mills x Fem!reader

Words count: 926

Warnings: a little angst, a lot of fluff

According to station control, he would be gone for 3 months. He sighed as he looked over the manifest, his anxiety only tempered by your body heat next to him. He has been on missions far longer then this one, but this is different. He has you now. Someone he could lose if everything didn’t go completely to plan.

As he lets you sleep for a few more minutes he reminisces. He first saw you during his first week stationed here. He could tell you were a spitfire. You were arguing with a tech, a tablet in one hand and a decoder in the other. Clearly you were in charge and not happy.

He waited calmly, watching the tech leave. He had then cautiously approached you, feigning a question about his ship's propulsion system. He hoped the interaction didn’t end with a tablet to the face. He was surprised to meet soft eyes and a warm smile.

After your first encounter, he continued to visit you in the hanger after meetings. You guys would talk about everything and anything. He found out your name then. You graduated from the academy five years ago and have been stationed here for the last three years. He also found out your favorite food was pasta and you couldn’t stand techno music. You were perfect in his eyes.

You actually asked him out first. You guys had your first date at the M Diner just off base. He knew he was already head of heels for you and you had confessed to him over drinks that you had a crush on him. That you were obsessed with his tender eyes, smooth full lips and his goatee. He remembers kissing you right then and there. You had your first of many nights that night. You moved into his bunker three months later and were married a year after that.

When he found out his mission assignment he was less then pleased. He didn’t want to be away from you, you guys had only been married for six months. You soothed him that night with talk of honor and duty in your sweet voice. You guys made a plan for you to record transmissions and upload them with the scheduled updates. Normal communication would be impossible otherwise.

He promised you when he returned you guys would take scheduled leave. Go see all the planets you grew up dreaming about. He was secretly saving up for a new star cruiser to surprise you with. Perfect for the two of you.

His tablet beeped at him, bringing him back. 10 minutes until he had to board. He places the tablet down and wraps his arms around you. His sweet angel. He squeezes you slightly and nuzzles his face into your neck. Placing soft kisses there as you start to stir. "Baby?" You murmured. "What time is it?" “0540” he says, placing a kiss on your shoulder, putting your taste and soft skin to memory.

You turn in his arms and run your hands through his hair. “Ok” you say softly. He kisses your forehead, then your nose then your lips. “I love you darling.” "I love you too baby" you whisper against his lips. “It’s so early yet… do you really have to go now?” you ask as you rub your eyes. You are so sweet. He breathes your scent in, scanning your face, committing it to memory for those lonely nights. “I’m sorry, babe. Duty calls.”

“Okay” you sigh as you attempt to extract yourself. He holds on tight. “Will you see me off?” he says with a smirk. He immediately chuckles at the huff and single eyebrow raise. He squeezes you one more time as he swings his legs off the bed. He feels your calloused yet soft hands rub along his back. "Go get ready, and we can head down together”. He nods as he tares his eyes away from you as he walks into the bathroom.

He continues to feel uncertain as he finishes with his uniform. He knows he is more then qualified for this mission. He can do this. But they always carry a risk. He tries to put that aside and enjoy the time he has with you now.

You guys walk onto the lift outside of your bunker. He turns you to him as he takes in your angelic features. You place your hand in his and smile. "You will do great Commander" you say in your fakest professional tone. He snorts. "I know babe, I know I just will miss you so much" he says as he cups your face. "I will miss you too. Please come back to me" you reply as you cover his hand.

"Always"

He kisses you, hoping it tells you everything he can not at this moment. The lift stops with a ping. You separate as the doors open. He continues to hold your hand as you walk to the docking bay. “Commander Mills” the docking bay tech says with a nod. “Officer Mills” he nods to you. You nod back. The tech activates the door control panel and stands at attention. “Be safe” you say as you squeeze his hand one more time.

“I will and I love you, Y/N. I will always love you” he says, kissing your forehead. He steps forward into the door. He turns his head one more time to see you with tears in your eyes and your hand over your heart. He can and will do this. For you. His sweet angel.

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

Credits to my dearest @srorgana1 ❤️

[gemma-tan]

I’m back?

I never technically left (I’ve been lurking…)

Some (or a lot) of updates:

I’m a they/she and still coming to terms with the fact that I might be a lesbian gay asf. I would still marry any of these men though.

I was not of legal age when I started this blog but I’m turning 22 in 2 weeks. Go figure. Also, happy Aries season (my birthday is in between Yamato’s and Otoya’s <33).

UtaPri is still my entire life (ofc.)

I will forever love Camus but somehow my obsession with Yamato is undefeatable. This is me admitting without really admitting that Yamato is the loml.

I still keep up with what’s going on, I own & buy most of the CDs (since 2017)! Recently money is tight and I am suffering without them tho T_T (There are definitely worse things going on in the world rn. Free Palestine btw)

I’m trying to play the games rn before Dolce Vita comes out (I still have time before they announce more ab it T-T) but I’m also trying to finish every other otome game I own & I haven’t actually touched UtaPri in months…….

I live in LA and I attend any UtaPri events at the anime expo when I can! Last one I went to was shining star stage love in dream back in 2022

Maybe I’m still an imagines blog. Tbh the whole thing was my biggest dream was to be a writer & then the dream died in 9th grade (around the time I died)… but recently after a whole anxious, depressive, ADHD (& possibly autistic) journey & learning to be happy again, I kinda wanna write again. One of the many things that bring me joy rn.

Anyway, pls feel free to reach out I’ve been feeling like meeting new ppl lately! Or reconnecting if we ever interacted in the past (I fear I might not remember I’m so sorry), but I have a lot of other hobbies & music interests besides utapri!! I am not the quickest of responders tho & I am sorry for that

Oh. Yeah. I definitely saw QN’s best solo album. (This might actually have been my revival inspiration. Very powerful. No notes needed. I actually couldn’t breathe for a good 10 minutes—)

oh I’m also on Twitter?? @whoreseki (it was supposed to be hoeseki bc houseki = gem (my name) in japanese but someone took it :(( )

[otherone12]

Oh, Baby... You're Mine

Vampire!Gerard Way × Reader

-> Masterlist

A/N: Hey!! I’m weirdo and vampires are fucking hot, so I has to write a something like this (no judgement, pleaseeee). Hope u enjoy it :)

Summary: The boy in your class is shy and weird, but you've always been nice to him, making him create an obsession. The problem is he's a little weirder than you thought… I mean, he literally drinks blood, and wants YOU and YOUR blood, and he won't take "no" for an answer.

- Word Count: 2.090

- Warnings: She/her pronouns. Blood things, pet names? Kidnap, AFAB >light< SMUT!

IF YOU DON'T LIKE THIS KIND OF CONTENT, DON'T READ!!!! YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME.

- Ps: I'll not use y/n…

- Ps2: Sorry for the smut, i'm not used to write this, i'm still learning already. (:

- Ps3: I'm brazilian, so english is not my first language... sorry if i wrote something wrong.

___________________________________________

1st Person POV

Gerard has been my classmate since the beginning of the year. I've never talked properly with him, but everyday I say “hi” to him with a smile. 

His black hair fell perfectly on his unhealthy pale face when he bent over the table to draw. Maybe the way he didn’t talk to anyone, or the way he kept his attention on his drawings during the class, I don’t know, but he's really cute. 

Sometimes my pastime is to find him looking at me, when he notices I stared back, he stops staring and gets a bit blushed. 

This has been happening for some months, and I got a bit tired of this, so I walked towards him at the end of the class, knowing he has free time. I crossed the empty classroom, and stood in front of him. Gerard looked up at me and swallowed hard, looking a bit nervous.

- Hi! - I started with a kind smile - Am I bothering you?

- H-hey… N-no you’re not… - He tucked his hair behind his ear, taking his eyes from his draw. His voice was high-pitched and pleasant to hear. - I wanted to talk to you, but I was afraid of being creepy. 

We talked, and I noticed that we had a lot in common, passion for art; for good music and old movies; so we kept the conversation going as long as we could. He didn't smile even one time, but I thought he liked talking to me as much as I liked talking to him.

In the next few days, Gerard and I had small conversations during the free periods, but nothing more than that. I started to think about him as a friend, ‘cause somehow he made me feel great.

Wasn’t like I thought of him as some kind of partner or something, but it is nice to know that if I need someone to talk to, I can go and speak to him. I haven’t many friends, none actually, I just didn’t feel comfortable with anyone, but he was different, someway.

After class, on an ordinary day, I was walking alone with my headphones on, and the cold wind of fall in my face. Going home, I felt something weird on my way. I didn’t know what was wrong, but the sensation of being followed haunted me for some streets. 

Faster than I could understand the whole situation, I felt a strong hit in my head, I fell on the floor, beating my head on the asphalt. The pain didn't last longer than a few seconds, cause i had already fainted.

Opening my eyes slowly and with difficulty, I couldn't see an inch in front of me because of the dim light. When I tried to rub my eyes with my hands, I realized that they were tied apart. I began to panic, noticing that I was tied to a bed, with my hands on different sides of the headboard and my legs spread with my ankles tied to the other end of the bed.

My first instinct was to scream, and I did. I got no response, but a door was opened, making the room a little brighter because of the light coming from it.

Before the door was closed, in the few seconds that the room wasn't pitch black, I saw that the room had a gothic aesthetic, with old paintings, black veils covering the windows, candles and chandeliers filling the room, and the old structure itself attracting attention.

I heard the sound of footsteps approaching, unable to make out anything. Soon I felt cold hands tracing my face and going down to my neck. I froze, the soft skin of those hands was almost soothing, but I couldn't let it take away my focus. I screamed again, but my mouth was covered pressing hard on my dry lips.

- You don't need to scream, darling. - A familiar voice reached my ear, making me even more nervous - I won't hurt you, hun. At least, not now.

 Slowly, he took his hand away from my mouth and I didn't scream, for fear that the situation might become worse than it already was.

- G-gerard?! 

I said, stuttering and with my voice muddled by fear.

- Aw how cute, you recognize my voice. - His tone didn't sound friendly, but threatening. As he spoke, he caressed my cheek. - There's no need to be afraid, baby.

- W-why are you doing this? - I cried, and he dried my tears with his thumb. - please, let me go

I begged to no avail, only to hear a harsh laugh coming from him. 

- I'm doing this because you’re different from the others. But you already know that, right, princess? - He moved away from me and lit some candles, letting me see the room more clearly - Do you know how much time I spent observing you? The way you talk, the way you smile, the way you walk... The way you look, damn! All pretty, all perfect, but never all mine.

His delicate fingers holding the candles looked like some hypnotic thing, and i couldn’t stop stare at them.  

- I’m not the only one who think about you like this, i’m fucking sure about that. - The disgust in his voice, probably thinking about the guys who asked me to hang out with them, made him seem genuinely concerned about me. - So I couldn't wait any longer to finally make you mine.  

Gerard’s voice became serious, while his disgust turned to seriousness and possessiveness. The sound of the old wood on the floor creaking filled the environment while he walked toward me again. 

- I love you. I always have. And I know you love me too. - A fatherly countenance, together with the heat emanating from the candles, left the environment less morbid, but still gloomy.- If you didn't love me, you wouldn't have spent so much time with me, would you?

- You're crazy! - I screamed, still crying. - I've talked to you very few times. I've never said anything about love!

- You didn't say it, but I felt it. - Now, with the light brighter, I could see the highlight of his white skin contrasting with his black clothes. - You don't know what it's like to spend eternity looking for the right person. 

He walked towards me again with a smile I'd never seen before. The closer he got, the more outward his teeth became. My heart races when I realized that those was FUCKING FANGS! And “eternity” was meant literally.

He sat on the bed next to me and looked me in the eyes. His bright hazel iris bore into mine and sent a chill down my spine.

Panting, my nervousness increased and he noticed. Keeping his smile, letting it be obvious how he was enjoying this situation.

- You're so pretty, do you know? - His hand was on my body again, unbuttoning my blouse. He licked his lips admiring my exposed chest - The most beautiful woman in this world, and all mine.

I opened my mouth to protest, but the stern look he gave me shut me up.

My hands remained tied as he ripped the sleeves of my blouse, removing it completely.

- Please don't... 

Again, I tried to react, but he was already unzipping my pants, ignoring me. The only thing I could do was hope that he would feel sorry for me, and stop doing anything.

- Darling, you're mine now. Don't worry, I'll be nice... - his hands passed over me, who were now covered only by my black lingerie. - but just if you behave like a good girl. Will you do this for me, baby? Can you be a good girl?

While he spoke, his fangs turned apparently, in a perverse smile. He leaned over me and pressed cold kisses down my torso, past my ribs and up closer to my breasts, making me fight the pleasure that was slowly consuming my mind. A moan was about to escape my lips, but I bit it back, muffling any sound that might come out. 

- Looks like someone's enjoying it, huh?  - he hummed, with a haughty tone in his voice - I told you. You love me. 

I tried again to say something in protest, but this time it would be a lie. Not that I loved him, but I was involuntarily enjoying it. He licked his lips in such a hunger, I couldn't help but shiver. 

His hands slid down my panties, pushing them aside. He teased my entrance and made me sink my teeth even deeper into my bottom lip. He looked with satisfaction, laughing darkly, and said In a practically growl.

- Very wet, aren't we? 

I mumbled in response, trying not to make my state of hopeless obvious. Gerard removed his hand from inside me, and positioned himself on top of me, with his knees on either side of my waist. 

- You know I'm about to turn you into the same beast as I am, right? - I barely heard what he was saying, but his voice, at the same time that left me panicking, made me melt into the bed. - I just want to have some fun first. Vampires are cold... but don’t worry, you'll get used to it. 

Gerard undid his black  jeans, springing his boner free. I got shocked by the size, and he let out a grin with his shiny fangs. The situation itself could be romantic, like candles and a pretty guy who apparently loves me… but the kidnap shit messes with all of this.  

He thrusted his dick in me in one move, not even trying to be kind. I was in some kind of state of mind, forgetting that he was abusing me, I started to enjoy the situation. 

- Don’t be shy, honey. - He groaned, going somehow deeper. - I wanna hear all those pretty noises. 

It didn't take too long and I felt my orgasm getting close, and like he said, I moaned really loud, breathless, I felt him come inside of me. 

He kissed me passionately, muffling while I screamed in pleasure against his lips, reaching my apse. The taste of cigarettes mixed with red wine was good, and I kissed him back, needing and wanting more of him. 

I caught myself thinking of how I would feel being with him forever. I’ve never felt like that, loved by someone, cared for by someone, and Gerard gave me all I begged for at last few years. His electric touch, this erotic feeling he brought me, was it that bad? He said “turn you into the same beast as I am”, does it mean he’s gonna bite me? ‘Cause he looks exactly the same way as a vampire does in my mind. 

- Are you ready for this, hun? 

He whispered, biting soft my bottom lip, running his hand to my neck. 

Before I could even respond, his teeth were already buried in my artery. I could feel the heat of my blood being sucked from my veins. The feeling of his tongue running across my neck made the pain milder, even so, the piercing and sharp sensation of pain ran through my body, as did his hands, which touched every inch of my torso. 

As he tightened his grip on my waist, my warm blood began to drip from the corner of his mouth, painting his pale skin a bright red. When he finally let go of my neck, he left kisses at the bite site, moving up towards my jaw and finally reaching my lips again, smashing them hard. The taste of my blood now filled my palate, while our tongues intertwined in movements that seemed to have been rehearsed.

Soon, I found myself out of breath, and feeling tipsy by the smell of wine he emanated. 

The strength in my entire body seemed to have been removed, and I felt really weak. Gerard held my face with one of his hands when he broke the kiss looking for some oxygen, while his other hand was still squeezing my hips.

Quickly, my vision became blurry, and I could only feel his cold lips hit mine again and my body collapsed in that bed, feeling like i was on fire and leaving the scene outside like one of the paintings I saw in his sketchbook once

- G-gerard...

I mothered in a whisper.

- Shh, you'll be fine, baby. I'm gonna take care of you, and we'll be happy ever after. 

He caressed my hair and rocked me. Little by little I lost the last lapses of consciousness, becoming completely off.

___________________________________________

~ So... that's it, guys... should i make a part 2?

[beautifulchris]

take care

wc: 0,8k

pairing: demigod!jisung x gn demigod!reader

summary: a pair of adhd kids ended up in the same school and got brought to camp together

genres: fluff, little angst, demigod!au, camp half-blood!au, classmates to friends!au, mutual pining!au, son of apollo!jisung, child of hephaestus!reader

tw: physical injury, infirmary

notes: idk why but i’m kinda obsessed with apollo x hephaestus children; anyway enjoy ! i'm reposting the works i posted while shadowbanned, please don't mind me

networks: @kflixnet @k-labels @whipped-kpop-creators

permanent tag list: @badwithten​ send ask/dm/comment to be added!

Publié à l'origine par han-jisung

It all started in school. You were the hyperactive kid, couldn’t stay still for more than a couple minutes, and Jisung was the comical one, always cracking jokes, playing music and dancing in the hallways.

He was usually fun to watch until he destroyed your science project a mere week before the due date. Sure it was accidental, and he apologized, but it had been so much work, so much sweat and tears poured into that project for months.

You were fairly pissed off.

He proposed to help you rebuild it, but you had dismissed him with a wave, feeling humiliated enough. Plus, it would’ve felt like cheating.

Let’s just say twelve hours of sleep in seven days are not nearly enough but you ended up with the best grade.

You were so exhausted in your next class, free of all the anxiety surrounding your science project, that you fell asleep.

Jisung, the guy responsible for your drastic lack of sleep, that you avoided all week—which turned out to be a not so difficult feat after all—took advantage of your sleeping state. He wrote an apology letter and asked your classmate to slide it under your arm.

At the end of class, after mutturing a few curses about how stupid you were for not being able to stay awake—you need to be more gentle with yourself!—you spotted the letter.

It was surprisingly neat, compared to all the times Jisung wrote on the board. It wasn’t the usual sloppy I-do-not-care writing, it was more of a I-make-efforts-please-forgive-me type. You could tell he was trying, and since your project was a success… You decided to forgive him.

At eleven years old, it was easier to forgive and forget.

A few weeks later that same year, four classmates tried to attack Jisung and you while you were in a classroom alone—nothing weird, you were just the last ones to leave—until your science teacher stopped them.

It was ugly, your classmates disintegrated and turned out your favorite teacher had goat legs. Definitely a normal day in your chaotic life.

Your goat teacher brought both of you into camp half-blood, where you got claimed by Hephaestus while Jisung got claimed by Apollo.

You only saw each other occasionally, being in the forge with your siblings most of the time, and him tending to the injured campers in the infirmary. Not that you became friends of course.

Although, more and more often over the years, you ended up in the infirmary because of some stuff exploding, fire erupting—no, you weren’t immune—, pieces of metal flying and knocking you out.

Yeah, the infirmary was the third place where you spent the most time in, beside the forge and cabin nine.

Wait. No, actually, Jisung deplorably said you were spending more time in the infirmary bed than your own. You had your appointed bed at this point.

Jisung always took care of you, not without complaining, though. Not about having to stitch you up or change your bandages and stuff, no. About how you had to be more careful.

He’d be nag about how some injuries can never fully heal. You’d argue that it wasn’t intentional.

He’d joke and say that you don’t need a reason to come see him. You especially do not need to hurt yourself. Which was essentially right.

You talked a lot when you weren’t passed out, and you had learned lately that he was dreaming of owning a lyre.

After doing some research (read: asking Kevin from the Athena cabin), you had everything you needed to make one. You thought you could repay him this way, even if it felt like not enough.

This time he didn’t see you there for weeks.

After mustering up your courage, you entered the infirmary. Jisung was here as usual, humming while tending to a Nemesis kid’s wound. When he finished and saw you, he rushed to your side.

“Hey, what is it?” he asked as he examined your body for any damage but it was all old scars. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, this time,” you sheepishly smiled.

You took the package that you previously put against an unused bed. Jisung hadn’t even noticed, his attention solely on you. Realizing that, his ears turned a shade of pink.

“It’s for you.”

He stared at the package in your hands. “For me?”

You nodded. “Open it.”

You resisted the urge to bolt away when he took the gift from you. As he opened it, you tugged nervously at your overalls’ suspenders.

“I usually forge weapons but I, uh, made you—”

He beamed. “A lyre! Oh Gods, Y/N, you’re amazing! This is the best gift ever!”

He started playing right away, making everyone stop and stare. The melody was smooth and pretty.

“It’s even tuned! Thank you so much Y/N, how can I ever repay you?”

“Ah no, see, this is me repaying you. But if you want to thank me so badly, you can play for me from time to time.”

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed, here’s the masterlist <3

[thewolvesof1998]

I want you to be selfish with me

I want you to be selfish with me (4.6k, M; Only because of the small amount of violence)

Angst and Fluff and love confessions; Buck called Eddie while drunk and Eddie ends up using some of his military training to save him.

Trigger Warnings: -Blood -Violence -Swearing -Panic Attack -Alcohol

When Eddie gets the call is 12.24 am. He’s lying awake in bed, trying to avoid spiralling but failing when his phone lights up, vibrating and blaring out the stupid song Buck had changed his ringtone to.

“So you know it's me calling.”

Eddie didn’t say that he always knew it was Buck calling even without the ringtone. Buck’s the only one that calls him this late at night, it's also the only time Buck calls since he prefers to text during the normal hours of the day.

Eddie sighs, dragging a hand over his face, looks like trying and failing to fall asleep is going to have to wait. His other hand reaches for his phone, answering.

“Buck,” He says, he can hear a lot of background noise, voices and music, so it’s not an ‘I woke up from a nightmare and I needed to make sure you're still alive’ call.

“Eddie,” Buck slurs, drunk, “Eds, Eds, did I wake you?”

“No, where are you?”

“I was out…with Chim and Hen, they had to leave,” Eddie can hear the pout on his face, “they have someone to go home to,” it is so quiet that Eddie’s pretty sure Buck didn’t mean to say that part out loud.

It makes his heart clench painfully, makes him want to say something stupid like you have me, instead, Eddie says, “Let me come get you.”

“No, Eds, it’s fine, I’m-I’m finnnneeee, I was just calling to-to-”

“Buck,” Eddie sighs, “Let me come get you, I want to make sure you’re safe.”

“Okay,” Buck breathes, “okay, I-I’m at Mal’s the one on-”

“Hill Street, okay I’ll be there in fifteen”

“Eddie…Thanks”

For you, always, “I’ll see you soon,” As soon as the words are out of Eddie’s mouth, he’s hanging up, climbing out of bed and swapping his cut-off joggers for jeans and pulling an oversized LAFD hoodie on, that he might have stolen from Buck not that he would ever admit that to anyone.

He grabs his phone, wallet and keys, shoves his feet in his boots and heads out the door, thankful that Christopher is at a sleepover with some school friends tonight so Eddie doesn’t have to rush back.

Eddie drives with the low hum of the radio and finger tapping impatiently on the steering wheel. Cursing that there's still too much traffic even this late in the night. Reasonably he knows Buck will be okay, that doesn’t stop him from worrying. Buck could have gotten an Uber home, but instead, he had called Eddie, something wasn’t right. As Christopher would say, his spider sense is tingling, Buck had brought him a Spiderman comic last month and it was his new obsession.

Eddie pulls into an empty parking spot around the corner from the bar and is out of the car as quickly as possible. He dodges around the drunk people milling about outside and pushes into the semi-packed bar. His eyes scan the room, finding Buck easily enough through the crowds. Buck’s leaning against the bar, all long legs and muscles straining against the seams of his maroon button-up. He's turned, talking to the guy next to him but leaning away as far as possible.

See the thing with having been Buck’s best friend for as many years as Eddie has, he knows all of Buck’s looks. The childish glee when he gets to use saws and jaws at work. The shy, nervous chin dip and eyes looking at you through eyelashes. The face when he’s gassy as he joked to a Chim once. So Eddie knows the look on Buck’s face right now -the strained polite smile, clenched jaw and eyes darting around looking for an out- Buck’s uncomfortable but he’s too polite to say anything.

Eddie watches as the guy places a hand on Buck’s arm, leaning into his personal space and how Buck casually withdraws his arm and leans even further back with a fake laugh. Eddie grinds his teeth and starts making his way over to Buck. He's not far away when Buck notices him, his whole face lighting up and a true smile spreading across his drunk flushed cheeks.

“Eddie!” Buck shouts over the crowd, his arm goes around Eddie’s shoulders and pulls him into a hug that lasts longer than normal. When they pull back Buck’s hand is still on his shoulder, and Eddie indulges himself with a hand on Buck's lower back, telling himself that it’s to help him stay upright.

“This is my e-uh ride,” Buck says to the man and Eddie takes him in for the first time. He looks to be in his mid to late thirties, similar in height to Eddie but much wider, wider than even Buck. Tattooed and kinda mean looking, like some of the guys he serves with. His lips are pinched in annoyance, his eyes flickering down to Buck’s hand that he still hasn’t withdrawn.

“Ah shucks and we were just getting to know each other, maybe we could continue that somewhere private?” The guy asks

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the red tips of Buck’s ears as he chuckles nervously, “ah well I-I-“ Buck stutters.

Eddie does something stupid, he’ll regret it tomorrow when he can’t scrub the memory of it out of his brain but right now he’s seeing red. This guy is ignoring how uncomfortable he’s making Buck and Eddie already didn’t like him for putting a hand on Buck but now he despises him. Eddie moves his hand from its place on Buck’s back to wrap around his hip and squeezes it.

He leans in, places a kiss on the hinge of Buck’s jaw and says loud enough for the guy to hear, “Let’s go home, Cariño.”

He’s so close that he can hear Buck’s sharp intake of breath. Buck’s hand spasms where is still laying on Eddie, gripping his hoodie firmly before letting it go.

“Yes,” He breathes, and clears his throat, “ah yeah yes let's go…home.”

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