#anyways - let me know if you need anything changed here!

[gangplanksorenji]

Her (Risky) Invitation.

Pairing: Chuu x Male Reader

Word Count: 4,432

A/N: Hello Orenjideul! This fic was supposed to be out as a BFH but I got busy so whatever haha. I feel like this should out in the draft hell since my folder's getting stacked and dusted (rip) but anyways, hope you guys like this pretty quick bit.

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The ebullient sounds of the audience roars around the stadium, and you contribute to it with a single percentile. The match is getting exciting at this moment, considering how a single home run changed the course of the game yet someone isn’t in the same boat as you.

“This is pretty boring, argh—” The girl is unfiltered, not giving a care on who may hear her despite her opening pitch earlier that made the crowd erupt in cheers.

“Don’t say that—a wrong word that comes out of your mouth could get you in trouble, Chuu.”

“So?” She raises an eyebrow, following a coy smile as you sigh in little disbelief.

She doesn’t care, and you couldn't care less—her pettiness is something you despise, an attitude worth removing with teaching her a lesson but that won’t even make her learn anything.

“What do you mean ‘so’?”

She brushes you off, looking at the distance, reeking with boredom, and with nothing much for Chuu to say right after, you just avert your attention back to the game where it’s getting spicy.

“You know what—whatever, I’ll go to the bathroom, I’ll be right back.” You couldn’t care less even if she leaves the stadium (metaphorically, you do, yet realistically, you won’t let her) knowing how you’re getting more hooked with the game in front of you.

Letting Chuu by, you nod to her as she just looks at you and flashes out of your sight, through the door, then averted your attention towards the possible climax of this stupendous game.

“Hope this delivers an exciting ending.” You hope it does, and you’re looking forward to what happens in the next minutes.

---

Almost a home run, and the waves of cheers erupt as the pitcher poises himself to throw the ball until a buzz in your phone piques your attention.

jiwooya__ at 5:58 PM - “come at the restroom rn plsss”

You at 5:59 PM - “why am i gonna go there with u?? something wrong?”

jiwooya__ at 5:58 PM - “yeah, just come over pls pls”

The ephemeral conversation sums up: her needing your help on something, an immediate call for you, and possibly another game from her—you know how this can end and whatever the outcome may be, you would welcome it with open arms because it’s Chuu and you can’t resist her.

You’re quick to get off your seat and excuse yourself, not giving a damn if the game’s getting spicy or not.

“This better not be a waste of my time...” You’re optimistic it won’t be, rather suggestive or not, you’re in positive spirits with what trick she may have up her sleeve.

---

You’re an easy bait and no one can blame you for that—like earlier, you can’t resist Chuu, not even in public places like this and you doubt anyone would care if something may happen here, the eruption of cheers that quakes the stadium says otherwise.

“It’s pretty compact here, don’t you think?”

“It doesn’t look like it—” Chuu’s eyes wander around the bathroom, sensing possible dangers to unveil such profanities. “Besides, this is the perfect place.”

It was all part of your plan, and hers—it was all an act out there, because deep inside, the both of you want to discover the thrill of the underlying threat of being observed, but you’d love to keep all of what’s bound to happen for you and you only.

You’d make it clandestine, a secret that will be locked just between the both of you.

“Can’t wait any longer~” Chuu’s tone teases you, legs uneasy as you could sense her wetness beneath such a hot pair of jeans that accentuates the fine build of her ass. You can’t let yourself die out of impatience, a cruel death that’s not worth as your hands did an audacious move—gripping her ass and pulling her closer to you.

“Me neither.” It’s simple, enough for Chuu to receive the message with clarity as your lips lock hers. An entangled mess comes right after, hungrily exchanging torrid kisses with tongues dancing around gracefully with the aim to taste each other.

She’s insatiable and you can’t wait to just do the unthinkable. Knowing her patience is running low too, she knows this isn’t the reason why the both of you are alone together in a restroom.

“Been wanting this for a while.” Her breath blesses your face, just inches away as her seductive barrage of words comes after, not without her hand finding its way onto your clothed bulge that’s growing with every second that passes.

“Elaborate, Chuu.”

“Huh, you wanna hear the things I want to do with your cock?” She chuckles as you nod, Chuu then fixing her hair and tucking it behind her ear just to whisper these words: I want to stroke your cock until it leaks all over my fingers, then, I’ll suck it sloppily just like you always wanted, and then, you’ll cum all over my face, and it’s not just going to end there, because you’re going to pound me in front of this mirror until you drain your balls into me.

You’re fucked, and you love it. Chuu doesn’t just say it all because she wants to, because she’ll mark her words and she’ll fulfill her needs whatever it takes.

“So, you in?” Simples words as a smirk paints your face, then nodded knowing how much you fucking liked the dirty talk she’s escaped.

She doesn’t need to be commanded, because it’s in her nature to know what she’s an expert at, and she’ll show you why you won’t find a girl like her—she’s just that type of girl. She drops down to her knees, dexterous fingers coming right after, unbuckling your belt and undressing what fabric that just hinders her to her deserved reward. She can undress you with her eyes closed, and with just your boxers as the last bit of defense, she exhales and drops it down with one, swift motion.

Her eyes glimmer in lust and admiration, your erect shaft in sight for her to savor for the umpteenth time. She places her hand around it and brings shivers down in you, the coldness of her hand rivaling the emanating heat of your cock.

She strokes it, you wincing with that hint of pain until she spats on her hand and continues her expertise. “Just want it slow? Give you some room?”

As much as you want to tell her to pacen up her strokes, you want to savor every second of her dexterous talent, a pleasurable drive that’s downright commendable. “Like t-that, Chuu—god, your hands are a blessing.”

“Already stuttering? Oh my, I really did turn you on, hm?” Those doe-eyes that only have innocence as its façade, begs for your answer as she continues her work until the base of your shaft.

“What do you think, hm?” It’s rhetorical and you know it as her laugh says otherwise. She averts her eyes onto your already throbbing cock, leaking such a minuscule amount on the slit where her tongue laps the gifts, making your knees weak.

“I fucking love you—and this cock, god.” Her handjobs are just the side dish, because the main course is being delivered immediately, lips enveloping on a tight snug that earns a moan out of your lips. Her strokes on your base are continuous, massaging the hardness where it stands tall yet you crumble, and it's evident with her lips venturing deeper, almost taking half of your shaft to really test you.

If she’s not careful, she’ll knock down the architecture of your legs, and she’ll pick up the pieces once she’s done. 

She just swirls around your sensitive crown, dethroning your attempts to resist her utter control. She licks with passion unwavering, moreso, her lips sucking you off like a lollipop with a suction that rivals even a vacuum. It doesn’t end there, because she’s just starting this, and she’s not even bobbing her head frantically to the point where the both of you become a mess.

Well, speaking of that, she’s fulfilling her promises, one by one.

“Shit—that feels good, Chuu.” You’re hissing, a hand cradles her head, then your fingers running through her locks as she bobs with a pace that’s moderate, yet her experience shows evidently—her absence of gag reflex, her tongue licking wherever it lands, her hands fondling your balls and her lips that’s wringing out the best bits of pleasure from you. Her bobs are in this recurring pattern to die out the inevitable building inside you—slow, fast, slow—and it’s just perfect, because you’re moaning like you mean and encouraging her that she’s doing great.

“Keep sucking—shit, you’re really a filthy cocksucker, aren’t you?” You taunt her but it falls deaf onto her ears, continuous with her pace and what she’s great at.

Saliva seeps out of her mouth, dripping onto your balls that she’s taking care of, until such a hot pursuit was hindered, ejecting out and looking at you with delight. “I am your filthy cocksucker.”

Then she continues, only this time, she’s locking eyes with you as down she goes, relentless with her oral pursuit of greatness.

Her nails are digging deeper, gripping your thighs harshly yet not enough to mark you, as she’s bobbing more furiously, the saliva staining her orange top and the puddle of worthless clothing of yours—rather rendered as worthless, the intention of the commotion says otherwise. She’s slobbering all over your length, gawking with the succulence as her actions are repeatedly dangerous and rightfully audacious—she doesn’t care if her mascara runs rivulets onto her cheeks or she messes the clothing full of saliva, because all that matters is the fulfillment of the need.

She’s just bringing you down slowly, piece by piece until you break as she’s relentless, but she knows what her limits are, and releases such warmth out with a loud pop.

“Are you close? You’ve been throbbing more than before—like my mouth that much?” She’s igniting you, words that unlock a safe that’s your reservoir, slowly filling in and nearing the end. You’re not going to be under her spell, not this time, and as much as she thinks you’re lying, there will be a single answer to her rhetorical question.

“No and yes, Chuu.”

She’s stroking, wringing it out leisurely and you inevitably grunt as she does so, a mischievous smile directed towards you as she seems appalled with your answer. “Elaborate, please?”

She knows she’s fucking you up, barely got any space to genuinely articulate a sentence, what more about a simple elaboration? Well, it doesn’t matter whether you answer or not, because your earlier reply is enough to stroke her ego, and she’s giving it all, stopping the feverish pumps and letting her mouth do the job.

Let’s be honest, with the suction Chuu provides, the plumpness of her lips and her mouth complementing the shape of your cock, you’re not going anywhere far as the inevitable builds up quick on par with her pace. Albeit the lower ground, she keeps your lower body in check, ultimately powerless to move as all you can do is embrace the warmth she brings. You’re gripping those dark locks as a leverage, not restraint and decelerating her pace because this is the outlet you have to combat the pleasure she delivers.

You want to thrust and fuck her throat just to suffice the filthiness that’s orchestrated at your end, and with those doe-eyes glimmering with lust, she’s quick to assess the situation and nods as her lips just puckers at the tip of your cock.

“Do it—” She laps the drool that dribbles onto your underside, licking fervently as she continues her verbal approval. “—fuck my face—I know you’re dying to do that.” 

With her disheveled look begging to get your job done, you know it’s the green light. She doesn’t need a breather even if you ask her to have one, because she is that addicted to your taste that she can’t bear the vision of being depraved by it even for just a second. Your pace is immediately ruthless, and you wouldn’t give such an introductory act considering how she slobbered all over your length earlier without giving a damn with the mess she can make.

The pace dictated didn’t render herself useless, being used like a toy, but instead battled against your roughness as she bobs repeatedly alongside your thrusts, which makes her falter a little, gagging onto the rapid actions of filth. Your thrust, do a couple and she gags—it’s beautiful, all that pretty countenance just to be ruined within minutes as your control dominates her. Chasing the nearing high, your hands grip a handful of her hair, a leverage to muster greater pace, skin clapping and her repeated gags reverberating around the restroom. 

At this point, someone may suspect something suspicious between the both of you, and thank god her mouth is shut thanks to you because you know how much noise she can create in such a filthy session with you.

“Fucking like t-that, hm?” You tug her hair as she looks up at you with glee beneath the dishevelment, nodding with just those eyes as you continue your assault, yet she never resisted, only carving more.

You’re dying to paint her body with your cum, you really do—nobody can blame you for that, not when her outfit perfectly accentuates a godly figure. Despite that, you can’t just do that immediately when she’s still all dressed but just a mess.

Just a mess. Well, you should really fulfill her needs and add up to the monstrosity.

You pull out as the saliva-sheathed cock is throbbing relentlessly, as Chuu catches her breath but her words contradict her visible struggles.

“Hah—hah, I c-can—can take more of it—fuck me more, please.”

Her grip on your thighs weaken and ultimately, you’ll do what you need to do. 

“But I can’t, Chuu.” Your hand raises her chin, as she smiles and anticipates what you’re about to do. What she had in mind might be right, and you’d know it’s imminent. “Stay fucking there and make me cum.”

She does what she’s told to and does it with eagerness. You’re on your wit’s end as Chuu’s fingers wrap around them and muster a velocity unparalleled, slick with her drool and messing her up. She closes her eyes as she knows what’s about to come, and she embraces it.

White, pearlescent streaks paint her porcelain skin, splattering and coating almost every feature of her face as her awaiting mouth receives plenty of her reward. She hums in satisfaction with what you’ve given her, the warmth complementing the hotness the both of you are in and the succulent taste that she’s been yearning for quite some time.

This is far from over and she knows it, but for now, you marvel at the fruit you bear—an outstanding sight, her face covered with your cum and it’s filthy in all of the right places.

She parts her lips, hitches a breath and opens her eyes just to meet yours painted with utter satisfaction. Sweat forms on your forehead and it’s worth effort, ruining her in a space where risk lingers around the corner.

Even with the marvelous sight, you’re still not done with her, and she knows that.

“Get up.”

“Why?”

“You know why.” You didn’t hesitate to outpower her, grabbing her by the wrists and flipping her over, facing the mirror. “And I’m fucking you up to get the job done.”

You meant it, and she gets herself ready.

Your eyes just darts onto her fine ass accentuated by those tight jeans (thankfully), its scrumptious volume allowing you to really test its integrity with a single, harsh spank that makes her yelp, and bite her lip. You see it in the mirror, a clear vision that she’s genuinely enjoying this and so you did another until you know to yourself that you shouldn’t play with your food.

You tug, she wiggles and you spank. It repeats for another time as the lust emanates the air the second that inviting face of hers exactly points out her reasons to fuck her—it doesn’t get any better than this and you know it, you’re damn impatient as much as she is. You undress her pants slowly, down to its ankles as your cock throbbed to the sight of a monumental wonder of nature and you’re glad to see it firsthand, nobody being blessed as much as you are. 

“Red ones, hm?”

“Like what you’re seeing? It’s your favorite shade.” Chuu knows you well, and you can’t lie. You just can’t help the fact that this looks like she orchestrated herself for you to fuck her publicly, anticipating with the right moment of the possible embarrassment to come and risk of being caught.

“You’re really a fucking slut—you did this intentionally, didn’t you? You wanted me to fuck you at this very day, hm?” More spanks wrings out cries at her end, a sweet disposal of the masked pleasure. She laughs and kept that gleeful face on hers, nodding because you debunking her sole reasons was just a piece of cake.

“You alwa—o–oh! Fuck, t-that’s great…” She grows weak, the second finger teasing the cameltoe formed onto those panties, feeling her wetness evident as her hands grasp the concrete of the sink and close her eyes.

“Keep d-doing that—oh!” 

“Grab the sink, Chuu.”

“What—ow!” You spank as your command renders deaf on her ears, the pleasure finally getting into her and she’s submitting slowly to you faster than you’ve expected.

“I’m fucking you with my fingers—be ready. Grab the fucking sink.” She does what she’s told to, gripping tighter as you plunge a finger, half with its depth and she moans in reply—that alone is the driving force to tease her, plunging another just to elicit that same, sexy moan you love hearing. 

You thrust in and out, a repeated process that orchestrates sounds in such a rhythmical and discordant pattern even with such a benign way of introducing yourself into her clit. You swipe and slowly make her descend down to her carnal desires, and your eyes sparkle with each passing second that passes, drooling with the fact how much it turns you on to see her dripping, glistening under the lights and her legs shuddering due to your own actions.

Guess you need to really start the show, for the better for both worlds.

Chuu knows you can’t contain it anymore, unleashing the beast, setting up the pace and going to “home-run” all over her backside—

“Fuck!” She swears at you, laced in goodness of what she’s feeling as your exposed lengths envelops another eventful paradise, plunging in deep and withdrawing with just the tip resting in it. The pace is sluggish, much intended for your comfort rather than hers, getting accustomed to her tightness that still surprises you until this day. You hold her hips and she holds the side of the sink tighter as your thrusts grow harsher and deeper, the profoundness driving you into insanity as Chuu spews profanities that reverberate around the puny restroom. It’s not just her dulcet tone that is an ear-candy, but also the clapping of your bodies against each other, a sound that adds to the erotic soundtrack that’s purely an abomination, your greatest creation.

She grows louder and it alerts you, so with an immediate action against it, the domination truly shows and it starts with you reprimanding her. “Shut y-yourself or we’re going to be fucked and you’re not gonna like it—do you understand?”

It’s surprising how articulate you could still be even with thrusts nigh-unbearable. Your other hand is occupied shutting her mouth up, letting her muffled screams vibrate on your hand as her eyes portray the sight of being satisfied, and it’s all shown in the mirror just to fuel you to take it into the extremes. It will be, but you’re still having the semblance of humanity left to just fuck her in a pace that she can take but if she talk right now,  you know that she’ll beg for more and she won’t break—the former, an absolute chant yet the latter can be debatable.

Thank god the cheers and the sounds outside rivals the absolute sinful cacophonies the both of you muster, and you’re thanking the blessing in disguise with that. With the climax of the game being evident outside thanks to the sounds of the audience, now brings the opportunity to bring spanks onto her butt that makes her grit her teeth in pain and pleasure.

You let go of your hand on her mouth to let those beautiful moans out for your ears to be blessed again, and she wails in pleasure with your pace and the harshness your hand makes contact with her ass. The sight of a rosy hue is the fruit of your efforts, and the events occurring in such a stingful session is a sight to see—a jiggle of her ass was enough to make you riled up even more.

You’re gripping her hips and you can foresee what can be her—

“Shit! Fuck, more, more! G-god, just fuck me real g-good…” Chuu is utterly fucked and she’ll thank you for it. She snapped and there she goes, you reading her like a book—she’s going to beg for more and with her numerous pleas that isn’t even registering in her head totally, you fulfill it anyways knowing it’s the route that you’ll inevitably pass.

“Fuck m-me—my ass—shit, more!” Your hips muster a velocity that is uncertain, but ultimately frantic and in for no-return. Her juices just stain the tiles and thank god you still have some time to discard her pants away to the sinful scene where her nectar will fall into, and at that point you know you’re breaking her apart slowly. At this point, Chuu is just blabbering with nonsensical jumbled pieces of existing words that will soon be more incoherent when you put the final in the coffin.

“You fucking like that, huh?” She nods in the mirror, those cum-glazed lips smiling after as she closes her eyes, savoring whatever that’s stimulating her and the pleasure you’re bringing all over her body.

“God, fuck! Ah, you’re crazy!” You pull her hair and make it as a leverage for you to fuck her truly. The pain stings but is translated as pleasure the second she feels it, and it’s evident because she’s been secretly talking about it and with the live reaction, oh, it’s all right there for you to hear.

You spank her and she bites her lip, you hissing at her remarks. “What did I say? Shut your fucking mouth.”

You’re vulgar and she didn’t care, even dropping the honorifics when you’re dropping her pants. You thrust repeatedly until burying it deep in her, making her moan so sultry and cry in pleasure, as lean towards her and whispered, “You want my cum again, hm?”

You slowly oscillate your hips, kissing her nape and ear as she replies an audible yes that enables the green light for the denouement of this spectacular show—spoiler: you did this before and you’ll never get tired of doing it again.

You pull yourself back, grab Chuu’s waist and run your hands towards her clothed tits, caressing it as she moans with your actions and cries once you return to your original pace. It went for possibly twenty seconds that felt like minutes on how heavenly she feels until you lean towards her again, this time, announcing the very thing she wants to hear again.

“I’m going to fucking cum, Chuu.”

You’re nearing the end and it won’t be in her pussy.

Well, here are the reasons why: firstly, you don’t want people to see your reward marked onto her pants and that would be unhygienic; second, she haven’t earned that luxury yet as per the situation the both of you are in; third, it’s a damn risk to it knowing it’s a sudden invitation by Chuu because you don’t want to risk these things; and lastly, you might just need to add up to the mess on her face you plastered all over her earlier.

Reasonable arguments, and it’s easier to be done than being said.

She doesn’t argue with your principles and wants, but eagerly obliges as she brings herself down to her knees again, stares at you with anticipation and her mouth agape. You know she really does know what she’s doing when she’s initiating the actions, stroking your cock frantically as your knees shake a little due to the pleasure her hands bring.

“Come on—cum on my face, right he—” She doesn’t need to finish her sentence when yours does, spurting strings and strings of cum on her already disheveled face, flinching whenever it gets on her forehead and savors with her hums when it gets on her tongue and lips. With the final orgasm that possibly lasted about ten seconds, she still wrings out the leftover cum in your slit, even licking it clean to savor your succulence, then smiling towards you because of the gratification.

“God, you still came a lot…” She still grips your length, admiring it as she slowly strokes it for good measure as an ending.

“It’s all your fault, Chuu.” You reply back, chuckling as the both of you exchange smiles. Chuu licks her lips and wipes her face full of your cum, the messy liquid being tasted by hers and she commends that taste, and you roll your eyes because of that.

Now, with the adrenaline diminishing slowly, the both of you are grasping the situation as the both of you get dressed up quickly, and Chuu is cleaning up the mess you’ve made on her face.

“Shit—I’m sorry, Chuu—was I too rough? Sorry if I came too much—”

“No, no, it’s fine—I can retouch and reason with them later. You got me pretty sore though.” Her bubbly smile takes effect and reassures you, and you trust what she can do to reason herself out of this mess. You got her ready and you know it’s still a risk even going out, even with the busy atmosphere around the stadium.

Chuu just smiles at you, smirking even with a single sentence that follows. “We should do these things again, I never knew it would be this fun…”

You’d be truly damned if it was to be fulfilled but you’re foreseeing the inevitable, and it’s just about when would be the next time such sin would happen.

[cheralith]

feat. itoshi sae (kind of) (with rin) cw: gn!reader, no pronouns used, coraline-ish au, pt 1 here, pt 2 here

"You genuinely don't think there's anything is wrong with him?"

The dish in your hand, covered with soap and suds, threatens to slip from your grasp when Rin's sarcastic voice registers in your mind. It's been a lingering thought, barely there in the back of your mind—you just didn't think anyone else thought of it.

The water feels colder and thicker on your skin as it runs, viscous and slimy. Despite such, you continue washing the dishes anyway.

Rin is here to visit the home you and Sae share. You think it looks more vibrant since the day he had returned, the colors of the wall less paled and the decorations actually serving more like pleasant eye candy rather than merely collecting dust. The world in general gleams brighter.

The only person that doesn't seem to be as saturated is Rin. He still holds that empty, muted look in his eye, the one that Sae mirrored in beholding prior to his brief absence. A semblance of the past that he can't let go.

"Who, Sae?" you ask with faux coy.

"Don't play dumb," Rin mutters. It's less of a hiss and more of a plea; you think there's a ghost of a "please" hanging onto his words somewhere. "He's been weird since he got back from wherever the fuck he was. You know it. I know it."

You stay quiet for awhile, letting the water run and the dishes tinker. "In what way?"

"He's... nicer," Rin has trouble getting the word out. "And softer. That's not nii-chan."

A dry chuckle slips past your equally dry lips. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Because it is," the younger Itoshi bites. "Nii-chan isn't nice. At least not this nice."

"Rin," you say quietly as you dry your hands, turning to face him with a desolate look. "I don't think we should focus on that as much as what exactly happened."

"No, I think we should, actually," he takes a step forward to you. His height looms over you in an attempt to close you in, to come face to face with reality and to stop living in this odd delusion of Sae being nice. "It's weird and I don't like it. Something or someone must've messed him up because he's not the nii-chan I know."

"You're saying you want the old Sae back? The one who would hurl insults at you left and right? The one who made your name synonymous with 'lukewarm'?" you dispute with a knit in your brow. "That Sae?"

Rin's reply is swift. It's equally as assured.

"Yes," he narrows his eyes at you, the teal in them strikingly vivid against Rin's pale skin and monochromatic clothes. "Because that's the Sae i've grown up with. The one who I know and who knows me."

You fall into an uncomfortable silence, trying to find a refute that never comes.

"Ochazuke," Rin says suddenly, breaking through the quiet. "He forgot my favorite food that hasn't changed since I was a kid was ochazuke. When we went out the other day."

Rin turns on his heel, his footsteps drag as he begins to exit the kitchen to leave you as you were. You didn't want him to be in it, but you don't want him to leave you alone—alone with your thoughts and whatever else may come.

Just before he steps out of it, Rin looks back at you with a despondent look. Heavy and almost defeated.

"If that's of any concern to you, at all."

---

Another pair of eyes watches as Rin promptly leaves the room from behind a dusty looking glass. Also teal. Also sharp in their gaze.

Sae feels his lips quirk up slightly when he watches you throw the dish towel to the floor, irritation plastered on your face as you rub your aching temple. You're back to your contemplations again, right where he needs you to be.

"Ochazuke," Sae murmurs, "with sea bream."

[bitchinbarzal]

Emergency Contact | M Kesselring

summary: you never changed your emergency contact and he never stopped showing up.

⸻

You don’t realise you’ve still got Michael listed as your emergency contact until you’re half-conscious in the back of an ambulance, blood trickling down your temple, vision swimming in and out. The paramedic asks if there’s anyone they should call and you try to give them your sister’s name, or maybe your best friend, but the record they’ve pulled already has a name. His. And you never changed it.

You’re trying to explain that it’s a mistake. That there’s someone else. That he’s not—he shouldn’t be involved. But it doesn’t matter. They’ve already called. And when the hospital doors slide open and your bed rolls past the waiting area, he’s standing right there.

He looks older somehow. Or maybe just tired. Same frame, same face, same stupid hoodie you used to wear when it was cold and you didn’t want to ask for your own. When he sees you, he swears under his breath and follows without hesitation.

You come to fully in the hospital bed, surrounded by too-white walls and the low hum of machines. Your head is pounding but your body feels light, like it hasn’t caught up to the trauma yet. You hear a chair shift and your eyes flick toward the movement. He’s there. Michael.

You blink slowly. “Why are you here?”

“They called me,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Emergency contact, remember?”

“I didn’t mean for that to still be you.”

“I figured.” He doesn’t sound offended. If anything, he sounds careful. “But I came anyway.”

He stays quiet after that, just sitting by the bed with his hands clasped in front of him like he doesn’t know what to do with them anymore. Like maybe he hasn’t known in a while.

“How bad is it?” you ask, your voice thin and tired.

“Concussion. Needed stitches. You were unconscious for a bit but you’re okay now.”

You nod and let the silence wrap around you again. But it’s not the same silence that sat between you in the last few months of your relationship. That one was tense and bitter, full of things unsaid. This one is gentler. Sad, but not angry.

“I didn’t mean to pull you into this,” you say eventually.

He shakes his head. “You didn’t. I just… I needed to see for myself that you were okay.”

There’s something in his voice you almost don’t recognise. Not until he adds, “I was scared.”

You blink, and it stings. “Why?”

He looks at you like it’s the dumbest question in the world. “Because I still care. Because even after everything, you’re still the person I think about first when something happens.”

You want to say something back but you don’t know how. So you don’t. You just watch him as he leans back in the chair, his knee bouncing, his gaze fixed on the edge of your blanket like it might offer some kind of answer.

When the nurse mentions you’ll need someone to stay with you the first night back, he answers before you can. “I’ll do it.”

You shoot him a look but he just shrugs. “I want to.”

You don’t have the energy to argue. And maybe, deep down, you don’t want to.

The ride home is quiet. He drives your car like he used to. Left hand loose on the wheel. Right hand flexing on his thigh. You glance at him once, maybe twice, and it hits you how familiar this all still feels. Like no time has passed. Like the last fight, the last tears, the final goodbye, never happened.

He helps you into bed, finds the extra pillow without asking, even knows where the painkillers are. You hate how natural it all feels. You hate that you still know how he takes his coffee and that he still knows how you like your blankets folded.

“Why’d you really come?” you ask in the dark, your voice just above a whisper.

There’s a pause, and then he answers just as softly. “Because you’re still the first person I want to show up for. Even when I shouldn’t be. Even when it hurts.”

You turn your head on the pillow to look at him. He’s sitting in the chair beside your bed again, same as earlier, arms crossed over his chest like he’s trying to keep himself together.

“I didn’t change my emergency contact,” you say, “because I think I always hoped it’d still be you.”

His expression shifts. Not surprise. Just something softer. Something that looks a lot like hope.

“I never stopped caring,” you add.

Michael stands slowly, walks over, and sits gently on the edge of your bed. He reaches for your hand, pauses, then curls his fingers around yours like he used to. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“I didn’t know how to fight for something I thought I was already losing,” he says. “I thought giving you space was the right thing. But I was wrong. I should’ve stayed. Should’ve tried harder. I thought I was doing the kind thing by stepping back.”

“You didn’t trap me,” you murmur. “You just let me go.”

He leans in then, forehead resting against yours, and for a second neither of you breathe. When he kisses you, it’s careful. Like he’s not sure if this is okay. Like he’s waiting for you to stop him.

But you don’t.

You kiss him back like your heart never figured out how not to.

The next morning, he’s in the kitchen, burning toast and swearing at the toaster like it personally offended him. You walk in, sore and slow, and he turns like he’s been caught.

“You’re supposed to be in bed.”

“You’re supposed to be letting someone else cook.”

He laughs, low and sheepish. “I wanted to make you breakfast. Still terrible at it.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He looks at you for a moment, all soft eyes and sleep-mussed hair. “I wanted to.”

And this time, you believe him.

You believe he’s here because he wants to be. Not out of guilt. Not out of obligation.

Because he never stopped showing up.

And maybe this time, you won’t stop him from staying.

[randomfandomswriting]

Mingi x Plus Size fem!Reader

When a secret crush on your friend leads to something more.

———

A/N: This came to me in a dream lol. I couldn’t help but think how Mingi would handle a bigger girl so I wanted to write something for us! (i am a bigger girl) So here it is! Please let me know what you think even if you’re Anon in my messages! and if you have any other one shot ideas (even fluff or angsty) im currently writing for Yunho/Mingi from Ateez and Yugyeom/Jackson/Mark from Got7… anyway i hope you enjoy!

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI. unprotected sex (do not do this IRL this is fiction). Nothing too aggressive or rough, more passionate. in case it’s not clear: this is a work of FICTION.

Saturday night’s at Mingi’s apartment became a regular occurrence. It had been for months and tonight was no different. There were always snacks, drinks, and a good movie. The two of you would sit side by side and watch a familiar favorite and sometimes when feeling bold something new. You always looked forward to spending time with him, and if you were being honest you had a big crush on him. He didn’t seem to know, even though all your friends could figure it out. You wouldn’t dare tell him. How embarrassing would that be? To be rejected would mean things could or would change between you, and for now being his friend was good enough.

“That new girl at work asked me out.” He said sometime halfway through the movie, and your attention snapped to him. Watching as he put popcorn into his mouth.

“The one you were telling me about?” You ask. It had been a week or two since she started. Mingi told you all about how she’d follow him around the office and try to talk to him during lunch. He seemed unphased when he talked about it, but now it was interesting.

“Yeah.” He shrugged, placing the popcorn on his coffee table, “Tonight actually.” You felt your stomach churn.

“Oh” You managed throat going dry, sending you reaching for your drink, needing the alcohol to burn your throat so you didn’t say anything that sounded like a hint of jealousy. “Why didn’t you go? Can you still meet up with her? I can totally leave?”

He let out a short laugh, “Y/n, Saturday’s are our nights.”

You let out a short laugh too, your head spinning, “But Min… You could’ve skipped tonight if you wanted to go out with that girl… what does she look like anyway?”

He shrugged, “She has… blonde hair?” He furrowed his brows, “Honestly I don’t know… and besides that I didn’t want to go with her.”

You tried to mask the giant smile spreading across your lips, he clearly wasn’t interested in her, you tried to push, just to see. “Is she your type? Is she tall… thin? What color eyes?”

“Woah… I need to speak to my lawyer before an interrogation.” He chuckles, his deep voice rumbling. “I don’t like her.” he said, “She’s not my type.”

A silent cheer erupts inside of you, but now you have more questions. You’d seen girls who practically threw themselves at Mingi. He was handsome and tall. He was sweet and kind. You tried to think of a time he’d gone home with a girl, what she looked like, but you couldn’t think of one.

“What is your type?” You ask, the movie long forgotten though his eyes were fixed on the screen. He shook his head, a laugh escaping his lips again, his eyes moving over to you.

“God,” He sighs, “What's with you tonight?” his voice is playful so you don’t back track.

“I just thought about how I’ve never seen you with a girl… you never talk about it if you’re with them…”

“You don’t talk about guys you see…” He retorts, and you laugh.

“I don’t see guys.” You reply, finishing your glass of soju and reaching for the bottle.

“Why not?” He asks, you shrug taking a swing from your glass and looking back at him. You look for a lie, something so you don’t have to tell him because I like you stupid boy.

“I hate guys.” You muse, which isn’t a lie. He laughs. “Okay so now you.”

“I don’t see girls because the ones that throw themselves at me aren’t my type.” You raise your brows. Beautiful women have thrown themselves at him, you’ve seen it before, watched them flip their beautiful hair and flash pearly white grins. You let out another laugh, he had to be lying, you thought.

“So then what is Song Mingi’s type?” You ponder, and he blushes, your eyes widen. “Min!” You slap him playfully, “Is there something you want to tell me?” This whole time right in front of you it was clear, Mingi didn’t have a type of woman. He clearly liked men.

“You’re my type.” The words left his mouth casually, as he reached for the rest of the soju. You let out a short laugh, because, well, you were in shock. You watched as he finished off the soju. Your cheeks flushed more red, your skin burns hot. Maybe he was joking. He had to be right?

You hadn’t moved, you couldn’t even if you wanted to. You were frozen, and he made his way back. New bottle of soju in his hand. You just looked at him, and he took a few moments before looking at you.

“What?” He asked, “I- I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not.” you say quickly, “I’m not.”

“You’re the most silent I’ve ever heard.”

“I was just trying to see if you were joking.” He rolls his eyes, before they land on you.

“Why would I joke about that?” You sighed, maybe Mingi didn’t get it.

Growing up, in a bigger body meant things like that happened. You had to deal with people joking with you about dating or down right being disgusted by the idea. As you got older it became worse, with men wanting to keep you a secret, use you for sex, or meeting you and ghosting you soon after. That’s why you didn’t like to date. It was a mental torture.

“I just… I’m surprised.” You bring a hand over your face, “You’re just… You. and I’m me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Mingi your a total babe.” You groan, “And I’m me.”

“You’re beautiful.” He snapped, “Every part of you. Including your sick little brain that tells you you’re not beautiful.” Your back to shock again, not to mention the butterflies he normally gave you felt more like giant birds. You had to pick your jaw up off the couch. “I like you. I’ve liked you for a while. And not just your looks either. Everything. You’re funny, smart, witty, kind… I just didn’t want to ruin our friendship, so since you don’t like me can we just please go back to watching the movie? We can forget I said anything, and just continue being friends.”

“And if I do like you?” The words leave your mouth faster than you can stop them, the soju giving you more courage that you would’ve had without it. He turns his head back toward you, now he’s in shock.

“Do you, really?” His brows furrow, and you hate how adorable he looks when confused. You nod, and watch as he closes the space between you, stopping to place his glass on the table, but his nose grazed yours. Your eyes flutter down and shut by the time his lips finally connect with yours, and it leaves you breathless. Still in shock it takes you a few seconds to take it in. The taste of soju on his tongue as it dips into your mouth leaves your head dizzy and your hands find his broad shoulders. Nails lightly digging into the fabric of his black t-shirt. His hands find the curves of your sides and more down to your hips, and though you usually hate it, you take comfort in the feeling of his big hands on you.

You had thought about what it would be like to kiss him for a while now, this was even better. He was good. He knew exactly how to move his lips and use his tongue, and you pulled him even closer to you, his body pressing against yours as your fingernails found the nape of his neck, gently running down his skin. He had done the same, daydreaming about kissing you, feeling your soft lips against his. He loved feeling your body, how soft you were in his hands, he loved feeling it when you even hugged him goodbye, this was heaven.

His hands moved up your curves fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt causing you to giggle, it tickled and you squirmed your lips parting from his.

“Is- Is that okay?” he asked and you nod, “We can stop if you want. Any time you want.”

“I don’t want you to stop.” You admit, blush creeping over your cheeks and he smirked, nudging you with his nose again, this time his fingers are hooking under your shirt, pulling it up over your head and you move to help him. Usually you’d feel like you needed to hide, but Mingi’s eyes on you made you want more of him. insecurity didn’t cross your mind as his lips met back with yours. He only lingered there for a few seconds, “You’re perfect.” he hums, his deep voice rolling out into your mouth making you move to kiss him. Your teeth gently nipping at his bottom lip, making him groan.

His lips only last there for a few more seconds before they’re moving down your neck and to your bare chest. His hands finding new places to grab and caress, your chest arching toward him involuntarily as he used his tongue to swipe against your warm skin. You couldn’t help but bite your bottom lip, his teeth sinking into the same spot he was kissing seconds ago. You moan as your body swells with heat. You notice the imbalance of clothes and reach to pull off his shirt, he moves to help you and clings back to your neck like two magnets snapping together. Your nails slide down his neck again, and over his shoulders and you can see the goosebumps that follow and he moans against your skin. You can feel him growing more and more hungry, his hands moving down your chest, a hand slipping under the waistband of your pants and between your thighs. You whimper your thighs parting to make room for him and his eyes find yours.

“So wet for me…” He rasps, “let me take you to my bedroom.” You nod rapidly, and he moves his hand to grab yours.

It’s a mad dash once you’re in there, your hands moving to his waistband as he moves to yours. He leans down to kiss you more, hungrier, sloppier than before. He gets your pants off and then his, before his big hands are back on you. He looks at you like a painting, and you’ve never felt more beautiful as his palms slowly move down your sides, every curve being caressed, his lips down your chest and stomach making you blush. He ends up on his knees in front of you and it makes your heart flutter to see his pretty eyes looking up at you. He looks so pretty on his knees, mouth ajar, lips swollen and pink, his tongue sweeping over them as he continues to admire every inch of you.

His fingers run up your legs and thighs and over the curves of your ass, where he gets a hand full and you giggle as his fingers hook into the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down. “Can I taste you?” He asks and you nod, blushing as he nods for you to sit on his bed. You sit back as he moves toward you, his lips finding your thighs, his hands hooking around and grabbing them apart, pulling you closer to his mouth. “I’ve dreamed about this.” He rasps as he begins to devour you.

One of your hands finds his hair, pushing it out of his face so you can see his pretty eyes, and he moans when your eyes meet his. His tongue laps at you, and he pushes further into you with his tongue as his fingers dig into your thighs holding you apart for him. He was good, and he was savoring the moment tasting you as he lapped at your arousal. His tongue moved up to your clit and his lips latched onto you making your moans falter into more of a cry, your head falling back onto the bed as you rolled your hips against his face. You couldn’t control yourself, and he was loving every second of being between your thick thighs. He was so vocal about it, his deep voice rumbled into you as he moaned and growled trying his best to keep you still. Your head is spinning when you feel a hand move from your thigh, and you can feel a long finger slipping into you easily, it makes you whimper and he adds another finger curling his fingers as he pumps them in and out of you.

“Mingi…” Your voice shakes as he continues to lap and suck on you, your orgasm starting to swell in the pit of your stomach, between his mouth and his fingers you weren’t able to hold it together. You were falling apart, your moans turning into squeaking whines, your voice shaking. He was hitting the right spot with his fingers and his tongue. He didn’t care to make a mess, burying his face between your legs, making sure he didn’t miss a beat in making you feel good.

“Come on, princess.” He growls, his fingers not stopping his relentless movements, “Cum in my mouth.” He rumbles and you didn’t have much of a choice, as you cried out a string of curses, your body shaking beneath him. Your vision was long gone as you squeezed your eyes shut your hands grasping for his bedsheets. He doesn’t stop his tongue, enjoying every last drop he can as you lay there your eyes closed.

“Fuck.” You breathe slowly pushing yourself up as he meets you halfway, red puffy lips still wet from you. You kiss him this time, sloppy, nasty, your tongue slipping into his mouth and when he returns his you suck on it, a hum from your throat. “My turn.” You pull away and he looks at you. Your hands reaching for the waistband of his sweatpants, you could tell he wasn’t wearing underwear, and it was confirmed as you pulled his long thick cock free. He’s hard already and you switch spots with him on the bed.

“I’ve dreamt about this…” He moans, as your hand wraps around him your eyes finding him as you lick a long wet line up his shaft, he bites his bottom lip, keeping his eyes on you. You stroke him slowly, using your saliva to keep him wet.

“Keep talking to me…” You say, “I want to hear how good I am.” You blink up at him before taking him into your mouth, just the tip at first.

“Keep those pretty eyes on me.” He rumbles, and you do as you use your tongue over his tip, swirling your saliva around him. “Take more, please.” He begs, and you oblige, stretching your mouth around him as he moans in a deep breathy voice, “So perfect.”

You start slowly, taking him as far back into your mouth as you can but making sure to pull all the way back. Your eyes still looking up at him as you take him further, into your throat, your eyes watering as you bob there, and he moans even louder. You moan too, around his length and the vibration makes him shudder. Watching his head fall back you take pride in it. You got him right where you want him and you take him until you gag but don’t pull off yet. You don’t dare as you bob your head more, and he growls a hand coming up into your hair, a tight grip on it as you suck in your cheeks pulling off him, your hands coming up to stroke him as you pull away, taking a breath his eyes finding yours.

You know you probably look rough, there’s saliva dripping from your lips, your eyeliner is definitely smudged from this or when he made you cum. But you’re watching Mingi lose control, his face red, his eyes fixated on you.

“You beautiful girl.” He rasps, and you wrap your lips around him again. His grip on your hair somehow grows tighter but he’s not pushing you, just holding you still. Then you feel his hips thrust up, his cock sliding into your throat easier now, and you moan around him. Your hands finding his bare thighs, your fingernails gently but firmly scraping into his skin as he fucks your mouth slowly. You’re expecting him to finish like this, you want him too, his brows furrowing as he lets deep moans roll from his throat. “Not like this.” He groans and you suck off him again, taking another breath he pulls you toward him, eagerly, his lips hungry.

“How do you want me?” You whimper, your lips still lingering on his. This ignited something feral in him.

“Turn around, grab that pillow… both of them…” You listen to him, following every instruction, “Under your hips, good.” You stick your ass out for him, without him asking and he growls at the sight of you, every single curve on display as you look back at him. A hand slaps your ass and you whimper and giggle moving your hips back towards him as he gets closer, lining himself up with you, and you brace yourself for him, your fingers curling into his sheets holding tight as he moves agonizingly slow into you. The stretch alone feels good, your mouth falling open as you moan. “So fucking good.” He groans, his palms gliding over your ass to your hips, grabbing tightly as he thrusts himself fully into you.

The feeling of him filling you is addicting, you need him to move but instead you grind back onto him, “Fuck.” You whimper, moving again. He lets you move, use him like a toy.

“Just like that.” He rasps, “Show me how good my cock makes you feel.” You throw it back harder, a little faster and you crave to hear him moaning more and more. His eyes admire the way your body moves, every jiggle and every bounce making him want more. You keep up a steady pace, the two of you just sounds of bodies crashing together and moans, whimpers, and growls. Your stamina starts to weaken as your stomach starts to flutter with the start of another orgasm, and you clench around him sloppily, sinking onto his cock until he takes over. His pace is relentless, energized, you don’t even move now, just trying to hold steady as he pounds into you. Your body trembles as he hits your spot and your brain gets foggy.

“fuck.” You cry, “Mingi…” you whine.

“C’mere. I want to watch you as you cum again.” He groans, and you hate the feeling of him sliding out of you, leaving you empty as you move over to face him, his hands scrambling for the pillows, “put these under your hips.” he instructs and you nod quickly moving them and he helps you into the perfect spot before slowly sinking into you, both of you letting out a shaking moan. He picks back up to the pace he was at, and you watch as his eyes fall shut, he uses his entire body to press against you as he grunts your hands reaching for his bare broad shoulders.

“Mingi—“ You cry, “I’m so close.” His hips slam into you faster, your words falling back into nonsense as one hand grips your hips, the other moving to your clit making your legs shake as both motions make your orgasm start to peak. Before you can feel him twitch inside of you, his own words become a deep growl as he releases inside of you. You followed behind, your eyes tearing as you cried out. Your body jerks away from him as your brain turns into mush, your body on fire as you continue to tremble beneath him. He stays inside of you, and you don’t want him to go yet as he leans toward you, his lips kissing yours lazily.

“Fuck.” He groans, and you nod in agreement.

“Yeah.” You breathe heavily, he slowly slides out of you, the two of you gasp in response. He doesn’t go far, immediately cuddling into your side, head nuzzling into the crook of your neck. His lips pressing against your skin, his hand coming up to turn your face toward him. “You’ve daydreamed about this?” You smirk, his nose nudging yours as he smirks nodding, suddenly sheepish.

“It was better than I’d imagined.” He grins. You laugh and shake your head before kissing him again.

“You should’ve told me…” He sighs. “We could’ve done this sooner.” You giggle again.

“Better late than never.” You shrug and he laughs now too. He sits up, and looks down at you with a smile on his lips. He looks so pretty now too, even with swollen lips and messy hair.

“Okay perfect girl, let’s get you cleaned up and get some food… and then we can do this again.” You let out a laugh as he puts his hands out to you, helping you up.

“We have all the time in the world now.” You smile, and he does too.

“I’m not wasting anymore.” He smiles before pulling you up with him.

[chaotic-ppeach]

I like to yap so i want to give a little breakdown of those last paintings!

I was inspired by Alphonse Mucha and his structured yet ethereal watercolor style. Everything flows together, and it reminds me a bit of stained glass. He still paints in textures while being exceedingly neat. Anyways… I morphed this with my sketchy/oil paint inspired digital style and this is what happened. (If you are unfamiliar with. Alphonse Mucha PLEASE look him up)

Side note: my art is MEANT to be zoomed in on. I leave little scratches and details not visible from standing back/without clicking on the image. Imperfections are welcome in my art as well as extraneous detail. Placement of details, textures, warmth and lighting is intentional to draw your eye to the main focus. I love adding Easter eggs to those who look closely and I plan to get even better at this! Alright.

Let’s start w/ Lev

1. The sky bridge used by Abby and Lev to get supplies for Yara. For me this is the first time Abby and Lev really let each other in, decide to trust and start bonding. Lev trusts Abby to keep him safe, not to betray him to WLF, and is relying on her to retrieve the supplies to save his sisters life. He’s putting his own life, anf more importantly Yara’s, in her hands. He is encouraging, kind and patient with Big Bad Abby’s fear of heights, and even tries to ask personal questions to distract her and get to know her more.

2. One of the most traumatic things to happen to a child, in any media I’ve ingested ever. Exile, injury, going back to a broken home only to lost his mother by his own hand, quickly followed by his sister who was killed in a matter of seconds with no time to grieve or process any of this. He does not allow himself to be paralyzed, Abby is there to help him keep pushing and and keep fighting. Honestly day 3 Abby is one of my favorite parts.

3. The boat, at the end in Santa Barbara. Even when Abby is on death’s door, weak, starved, beaten, you name it. She’ll give her life to protect her boy, here when he’s most vulnerable. She doesn’t want to fight, she’s done with the cycle of revenge and violence. But for him, her mind and her body screaming to give up and to leave, she’ll fight for him. Even if it costs her her life.

4. The aquarium, a shark, and Yara. I know this didn’t happen in the game but I wanted to add it. Lev isn’t Lev without Yara. So many critical events for Abby, Lev, and Ellie happed in the aquarium so it only felt right to have it there. And a shark because his love of sharks is too cute. Plus I needed a sea creature so it would read visually as an aquarium and fish were too small.

5. The wave frame is honestly more an aesthetic choice, but Lev is scared of the sea and there’s a lot of water in the game. Another point he crossed the sea HIMSELF to retrieve his mom. He must have been terrified. And for it to end the way it did… oof.

6. I changed his expression from the reference photo. In the reference he’s very doe-eyed, unsure, almost fearful. I wanted to show just how strong he is when it mattered most. He’s not letting anything stop him for fighting for those he loves, even if they don’t want his help.

1. The coins she collects throughout the game. Virginia, California, New Mexico, Illinois, and I’ve quite forgotten the last one. There’s a moose on it. Intentionally i did not make the designs clear or render the metal more. Coins are extremely detailed, the frame is not. It would look weird. Plus there’s no reason, the focus is her face and I don’t want the viewer’s eye being made to compete on where to focus. Abby isn’t Abby without her dad, I couldn’t not include a piece of him in the artwork. It’s a way for her to stay connected to him in a way other than the virus, the fireflies, or revenge. A collecting hobby that’s simply for the pleasure of it, a break from her regularly tightly disciplined lifestyle.

2. Firefly Emblem. Not rocket science, growing up a firefly had an impact on her. It’s a big part of who she is. Seeking growth, seeking to do better day by day. To help and be kind. I make the emblems glow for aesthetic reason but also, “Look for the light” kept coming to mine when trying to figure our what color they should be.

3. The Harbor Seal. Again, a nod to the aquarium, but also to Owen. I believe she deeply and truly loved him. Fight me. Plus i believe part of the reason she becam e so melancholy when the seal appeared was because of her dad. He seemed to enjoy animals, and perhaps it brought back memories and the pain of losing him all over again. She wants to be there, to be present with Owen but this overwhelming grief with nowhere to go is drowning her. She uses training and patrols to release some of this pressure. She asks Owen to come with her not because she doesn’t care and is blowing him off, but because she wants the one she loves to be with her as she’s processing this grief and anger. I don’t think either of them could see this at the time, perhaps Owen a bit.

4. A wolf. Obviously, WLF, and her nickname from Yara/Lev “Wolf”. More importantly wolves are pack animals. One thing that strikes me between Ellie and Abby is the complete opposite experience they’ve had with community. Ellie grew up under military rule. Extremely strict and single minded. No room for self expression or exploration, no support for her own individuality. Leaving her community was a freeing thing. Her brushes with other groups in her travels with Joel only showed her how cruel and insane people can be. Even in Jackson, she i troubled. She has to hide both who and what she is, and because of this seems the loner type and struggles to find a sense of community outside of her immediate ‘family’. And then with Dina, Jesse and Tommy… Dina is a stead support, then a liability, then a weakness for Ellie. She eventually loses her to her own grief. Jesse was her good friend, and in trying to save Ellie ends up dying very suddenly and tragically. Tommy, the only one on earth that could understand her grief and she could sympathize with. He ends up losing himself to grief and taking this out on Ellie, causing a rift between them. She ends up alone. Community is riddled with trauma and discomfort.

Abby on the other hand. Grew up with lots of support, openness, and guidance from her father and the fireflies. She was allowed to unapologetically be herself. Losing her community (the hospital) was the single most traumatic event that happened to her. Her world crumbled. She then clings to what she has left, searches and finds herself in another community (WLF) that allows her to be herself. Left and right as she walks through WLF territory she is warmly, fondly greeted by multiple multiple people. It is apparent is is loved and respected by many. A community is where she thrives, where she belongs. After being excluded from the WLF, she clings the the next thing she can help. Lev and Yara. She takes them in as she would appreciate herself. When they voice discomfort of her mocking their culture she changes her ways. She can respect a community and what it means to people. Even at the end of the game, she’s risking life and limb for her last remaining bit of community, her boy. Wolf, is very fitting.

5. The Infection. Honestly I just needed to include it somehow. But really is is a big part of her. Her whole childhood I bet she listened to her father rant about the infection and his research. She’s spent her whole life running from or killing infected. After Salt Lake, I could only imagine every infected, especially friends, she kills she’d think “If only we had a cure…” Her hatred for Joel growing…

6. I also changed her expression slightly. Because these are sister paintings I wanted it to look like Abby could maybe be looking directly at Lev. In the reference she was looking up.

Okay that’s all….

[harmonyrae]

Ivy League

Fall Semester: Sophomore Year🍁🍂🎃🏈 

Premise: Based on this post by PomeRinn aka @waterrinmelonn. All the boys are modern rich international kids going to a prestigious university. They’re attending Yale, an Ivy League University in the American Northeast. They're all the same age. My FMC will end up with only one of them in the end.

Content Warnings: Mildly Suggestive & Explicit Language. Some fluff. Some angst. Slow burn in its purest form. Underage drinking. FMC is drugged (she’s okay, unharmed) but please be aware of your own triggers while reading. 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 7.6k (oh lord it's a long one)

Part One Part Two

“You’re sure we got assigned to Lawrance Hall? Like, 100% sure?”

“Hun, I emailed and called, we are in Lawrance Hall this year. Same room, no overbooking, we’re good babe!” Tara sighs as she reassures you for the 100th time. 

Finding out you’re changing dorms was stressful enough as it is, but getting assigned to the hall that caused you insane anxiety last year made you even more on edge. Thankfully, Tara was on top of things and joined you in calling Student Housing to double, triple, quadruple check. 

“My flight got delayed, so I will be arriving a few hours later than I expected. Are you and Caleb already on campus?” 

You look over at the driver seat, Caleb had changed quite a bit over the summer. He started an amateur basketball league at the country club. He only ever used his parent’s membership to the club for the gym anyways, so he decided to do something for the community. He often held practice outside, so he was tan and much leaner than before break. 

You had your own tan lines given your summer job as a lifeguard at the same club. You’d been going with Caleb to the club since before you were able to swim and knew the staff well. When they offered you the job, you were ecstatic. A chance to save up some money and get a tan at the same time? Deal of the century. 

“Hello? Are you still there?” Tara’s voice brings you back.

“Sorry, yeah. We just arrived. Caleb is still trying to find a parking space to unload my shit.”

“He’s moving into the frat house, right?”

“Yup, he’s going full frat bro.” Caleb rolls his eyes and scoffs. “You’re literally wearing your hat backwards right now.”

He immediately swivels his hat around. You break into a fit of giggles as you hear Tara begging for a picture on the other end of the call. Caleb finds a spot and backs in, waving to the parking attendant before getting out. 

“Did Sylus or Zayne ever get back to you?” 

“Not yet, I think Zayne is still with his cousins and Sylus is on a plane.”

“I can’t believe they got assigned to Lawrance Hall too. If they’re on the same floor, I’m buying a lottery ticket.” A voice echos through her phone announcing a departure. “Oop, that’s my flight! I’ll see you in a few hours bestie!” 

After wishing her safe travels, you hang up and join Caleb who had just successfully convinced the parking attendant to let him stay parked for 30 minutes.

“Thanks man. We’ll be out of here as soon as possible.”

Thankfully you’re not on the fourth floor this year so the trek back and forth wasn’t as miserable. Second floor, right at the end of the hall by the stairwell door. Your room is a tiny bit bigger and has a decent view. The shared bathroom with the room next door would take some getting used to. It was nice you didn’t have to share the showers with the whole floor, but until you meet your neighbors you can’t say that with full confidence.  

“Alright Pips, I think that’s it.” He takes off his hat and smoothes back his sweat slick hair. 

“You’re sure you don’t want me to help you move in?”

Caleb pulls you into a sweaty side-hug making your squirm.

“I’m sure. The house is going to be super busy and I know you get anxious.”

He’s right. A chaotic frat house with a bunch of sweaty guys running around? No thanks. 

“Okay, just let me know if you need anything. We’re still meeting for dinner with the gang, right?”

He nods and you walk him out, waving him off when he shouts something about ‘behaving.’ When you return to your room you focus on getting your bed made up and finding your corkboards. You spent the last week printing out pictures and making collages to hang up. You had an impressive collection, pictures from your first Yale football game, movie night in the Commons, fencing tournaments, your first published piece in the Yale student paper and a whole board dedicated to three special felines. 

You’d be hounding Zayne for updates when he arrived, Galen is probably so big now. You follow the Instagrams for the girls who adopted Lilith and Dream. It warmed your heart that they kept the sisters together. Sadly, Zayne’s cousin doesn’t have any social media so you can’t keep an eye on the little cheesepuff. As you pin the board to the wall, you giggle at the photo of Sylus with Galen on his head. It was the only time Galen was calm during the entire roadtrip to DC. You’re glad the foster agreed to let you, Tara, Zayne and Sylus transport Galen to his temporary home with Zayne’s cousin over Spring Break. Spending a week in DC was also a fun time. 

You fluff your pillows and toss another throw blanket over the bottom of your bed before flinging yourself down to take a breather. It’s only then you realize the afternoon sun is shining directly onto your bed. Sitting up, you look for the string to the blinds, you knew you should have brought curtains.

The ledge of the window is wide enough for you to prop your foot up and possibly stand for a minute or two. Just long enough to grab the cord and lower them. Taking a precarious step forward, you wedge the toe of your sneaker into one of the grooves of the radiator and hold onto the walls on either side of the window to balance yourself. You’re about to hoist yourself up onto the ledge when the door to the bathroom opens into your room.

Tara’s going to need that lottery ticket.

“What on earth are you trying to do?” Zayne rushes over to yank you back. “You’ll hurt yourself!”

Leaping away from the wall, you throw your arms around him.

“Zayne! When did you get here? Where did you come from? How’s Galen?”

“I can only answer one question at a time.” You let him go and let him reach up to grab the cord himself, easily lowering the blinds and darkening the room. 

Flipping on a lamp, you sit on your bed and pat the space next to you. As soon as Zayne sits you begin your interrogation. 

“Okay, when did you get here?” 

“I arrived from DC at noon and spent an hour in traffic. Luckily, the taxi driver was a quiet man so I got caught up on my reading. I arrived in my dorm room about fifteen minutes ago.”

“So how did you get in here? Are you on the same floor?”

He glances at the bathroom door, which he left wide open. When you look over, you can see straight through to the adjoining room. Where his backpack sits on the bed. You stare at him, then back through the door, then back at him.

“No way.” 

“I’ll have to talk to a member of Student Housing. They usually don’t allow this kind of arrangement.” He offers.

“Every semester it’s something else! Last year they put me in the wrong room, this year they put us in adjoining rooms with a shared bathroom! I’m sorry, I like you, Zayne, but I don’t want to share a bathroom with you and Sylus!”

“I understand, I will find a member of staff immediately.” You grab his arm to stop him from standing. “What?”

“I want to hear about Galen first…” 

He questions your priorities, but shifts on the bed to get more comfortable as he divulges more info about Galen. He pulls out his phone to show new pictures, sending a few to you so you can update your picture board. Eventually, you discuss his class schedule, his plans to volunteer at the shelter again, how his summer went. The sun was setting before you knew it. 

“I’ll find someone to ask about the room situation and meet you at the dining hall in around 30 minutes.” 

You thank Zayne and return your focus to getting the room set up. Your mom had bought you a skincare fridge and you were itching to stock it. A clatter and squeal alerts you to the arrival of your roommate. You turn just in time to brace yourself for impact. 

“Oh my god! I’m never getting on a plane again.” You grunt as she squeezes you tighter. “I missed you so much!”

“I missed you too, Tara.” She lets you go and you stretch your back from where she squeezed a little too tight.

She drops her bags off on the other bed, examining the room and stopping at the open bathroom door. She doesn’t say a word before running through to the other room. You call out and chase after her. When you enter the other room you’re greeted with a sight for sore eyes. Tara clings to Sylus, her arms wrapped around his waist while his arms are raised, clearly unprepared for this attack hug. 

“Yes hello, I missed you, Tara.” 

He looks up and gives you a once over, smiling. 

“Missed you too, kitten.”

He must have gotten extra sun this summer too. His hair is even more of a contrast against his tanned skin. His go-to tank top and jean combo still suits him, but he has more accessories now. A chain on his belt, bracelets, rings on almost every finger. And best - or worst, depending on your sanity - of all, fresh ink swirling down his right arm. Tara lets him go and grabs his hand, twisting his arm so she can get a better look at it. 

“This is so cool! When did this happen?”

“A few weeks ago, I wanted it to be mostly healed before returning to campus.”

You take a step forward and get a closer look. You can only make out scales and shadows, too caught up in how the ink thins at his wrist, circles his arm, covers his bicep, crawls up his shoulder and drops down his back. The question is on the tip of your tongue, but you know it’s a bad idea. Tara beats you to it.

“How far does it go?”

Sylus responds exactly like you think he would, he pulls his shirt over his head and turns. While your cheeks are on fire, you can make out the design a bit better. It’s a dragon. Its body continues to spiral down his back and over his ribcage, its wings folded against its back. You can’t see the end of the tail as it disappears below his waistband.

“Use your imagination for the rest.” Tara slaps his arm and you momentarily black out. 

“Wait, it’s not normal to share a bathroom with guys like this, right?” Tara walks through the bathroom, realizing the set up.

“No, Zayne is finding someone to talk to about it.”

“Zayne’s already here! Oh my god!” Tara jumps up and down. “I’m texting Rafayel and Xavier, I need to see all my boys together again.” 

She skips off into your room, leaving you alone with a shirtless Sylus. He’s made no significant effort to put his shirt back on and you’re about 10 seconds away from blacking out again. 

“You look good.” He noted. “Spent your summer in the sun, did you?” 

You bite your lip and hold your breath as you turn to face him. He fiddles with his shirt, his muscles twitching as he maintains eye contact. 

“Yeah. Worked as a lifeguard. Helped with swimming lessons too… uhm… What about you? You look…” God, you’re awkward. “... Good. You look good too. Tan. I mean.”

Sylus tilts his head, lips twisting into a smirk. He takes a step closer.

“Stayed with my uncle at his beach house in Busan. Helped him fix up his vintage car. I visited my mom in Moscow during the rainy season. Joined her for a few outings to the beaches there.”

Another step.

“I am glad you stayed in touch.”

Another step.

“Well, yeah, someone had to convince you not to name that bird of yours ‘Shadow-Dragon’.”

He grins, eyeing you. 

“He was going through a phase. Seemed fitting.” 

He’s much closer now, if you didn’t know better you’d think…

“Dinner in 10 minutes! Come on! Oh my god Sylus, put your shirt back on. Show off…” Tara calls over her shoulder as she returns to her room. 

You stare at your feet, waiting for him to take a step back.

“I’m going to change. Got all sweaty moving in. I’ll see you in a bit.” 

You don’t wait for him to reply, just spin and race back to your room. Why are you being so awkward? You were calm, cool and collected all summer while messaging him and now? Sure, he couldn’t see how you buried your head in your pillow and screamed in frustration over what to say, but you thought you had reigned in your emotions. 

Dinner was only awkward for about .5 seconds, as soon as Rafayel arrived he was raving over Sylus’s tattoo and critiquing Zayne’s hair. You hadn’t realized before, but Zayne grew out his hair. It was a good look for him, more casual, less preppy. Caleb didn’t waste anytime hyping up his fraternity, praising the cooking staff, the private pool access, the bigger rooms. He brought his roommate, Gideon, who immediately clicked with Tara. They chatted most of the night, barely paying attention to Caleb’s performance. You knew exactly what he was doing since he practiced his pitch on you on the drive back to campus.

“Finley told me to have someone in mind to tap as soon as I get back. He said the earlier the better since Sigma Chi had lower recruitment the past few semesters. And 20% graduated in May.” He mused. “What do you think Rafayel and Sylus would say if I tapped them?” 

At first, you laughed, but then you weren’t so sure. Rafayel might enjoy the challenge of being more social. He’d mentioned he was far too comfortable last year, didn’t try to branch out and try new things. Sylus, on the other hand, was a wild card. Could go either way. So when Caleb arrived in the dining hall, you knew he’d be in salesman mode. 

“Sigma Chi has the best parties and social standing, sure, but there’s a lot more. They host private sporting events, and have internal teams. Finley already offered me a co-captain position on his basketball team. Next week we’re doing a fundraiser for members' tuition fund. There’s also a shit ton of networking opportunities - we might be sophomores but it’s never too early to think about life after college.”

“Caleb, you sound like an infomercial.” Zayne grumbles.

“I’m just making sure Rafayel and Sylus know all the benefits to joining.”

“Well, I’m down.” Rafayel pipes up. “Could serve as inspiration for a collection. The ‘reality of a frat bro’ - vivid colors, hidden elements. I like it.”

“I’m not sure, honestly. Doesn’t seem like I would really be a good fit.” Sylus counters.

“No, you definitely would. There’s a few engineering majors who invested in renovating the basement into a workshop. They won’t even let me in without a welding mask.”

Sylus is instantly more attentive. 

“Should have led with that Caleb.” You snicker as he back-tracks to go over how tapping works.

🍁🍂🎃🏈 

You hit the ground running this semester, less anxious than last year. Still undeclared, but taking more classes you actually enjoy. Other than Biology, math and science are not your strong suits. But with Zayne next door, you breeze through your first exam. Rafayel is in the same class and after nearly failing he finally admits defeat and asks Zayne for help. 

“Please don’t make me ask again.” Rafayel mumbles.

“I just want to make sure I heard you correctly.” Zayne flips the pages of his textbook as if Rafayel’s not even there. 

Rafayel sighs and leans closer to Zayne.

“Oh great and powerful master of science and medicine, might you consider tutoring me so biology is no longer the bane of my existence and cause of my despair?” 

Tara spits out her soup, barely grabbing a napkin in time to save her sweater. Zayne looks up, peering over his glasses. 

“When is your class held?”

“Monday, Wednesday, Friday - 2pm.”

“You’ll arrive at the library at 5:30pm on Wednesdays for exactly 2 hours of tutoring along with Y/N. If you’re late, there’s a fee.” 

“A fee?!”

“For every 5 minutes you’re late, you get a tally. If you rack up 10 tallies you have to buy me a premium chocolate box from Durfee Sweet Shop.”

“Those are like, $50 each!”

“Don’t be late then.” Zayne concludes. 

Rafayel has never been more punctual. He could afford the chocolate, but the thought of spending $50 on sweets made him irrationally angry. Wednesday quickly became your favorite day of the week. Rafayel argued that there was no real reason to memorize the differences between bacteria, viruses, and fungi. Zayne argued that understanding the differences is actually a very important element of health and wellness. You just sat there, sipping your coffee, enjoying the break. 

Thursday evenings were still reserved for Fencing Club. Xavier was determined to have you  putting down the foil for a sabre before the end of the semester. The idea of moving from a structured fight to something more fast paced was an exciting prospect, but you weren’t sure you’d be ready. Xavier, however, was persistent, more so than usual.

“And… flunge! There we go, excellent. Stop laughing!”

You don’t mean to, but the term itself and Xavier’s accent is too funny. Xavier advances without warning and you jump, barely escaping Xavier’s sabre. He doesn’t yield the right-of-way when you successfully parry, instead opting to pursue you further, forcing you to hop down off the mat. 

“Xavier!” 

You scramble to right yourself as he continues to lunge and thrust his blade. Your back hits the wall and the point of Xavier’s blade dives straight into the wall beside your head. You scream and stare at Xavier, both of you trying to catch your breath. 

“Always stand your ground, even if your opponent is trying to advance and take over your space. Don’t let them. Don’t wait for the perfect moment to take control, trust your instincts and just do it. You can’t remain in defense mode forever.” 

His words dig a little too deep. He’s talking about fencing, right?

For the rest of practice, he focuses on your footwork. His attitude is noticeably more somber and you chase after him when practice ends. The leaves have just begun to change, the wind making you shiver as it blows through your hair. You reach Xavier right before he heads into his dorm. He avoids eye contact, choosing to stare at his shoes.

“Xavier. What’s going on? You’ve never been that aggressive with me before.”

“I’m sorry. I got carried away.” You stay quiet, waiting for more. “I… I usually train when I get overwhelmed. My coaches would push me around just so I could fight back. I got stronger while blowing off steam. I shouldn’t have pushed you, I’m sorry, truly.”

“Why are you overwhelmed? Classes?”

He shakes his head and stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“Got a letter from my uncle.”

“Oh…” You shuffle closer. “Did something happen?”

“My parents want me to come home for the holidays.”

If a letter asking him to visit for the holidays is enough to make Xavier feel like this, his relationship with his parents must be worse than you thought. You follow him to a bench to sit. He scoots closer to you, sharing his warmth.

“I haven’t seen my parents in almost 7 years. Going home… I don’t want to.”

“Then don’t.” He smiles, pleased with your quick response and subtle anger. “You don’t owe them anything. You should celebrate the holidays with people who make you happy.” 

“You have a good relationship with your family, I’m guessing.”

“It’s decent. Not perfect though. I know I don’t know your situation, I shouldn’t assume.”

He shakes his head.

“You’re not wrong, I guess I’m just… not ready to face them yet. I’m not sure I’ll ever be.”

You put your arm around his shoulders and rest your head against his. He leans into your touch, taking a deep breath, a cloud of hot air billowing out of his mouth into the cold. It’s not until your ass is numb from the frigid metal bench that you let go. He thanks you and you invite him to the next study session with Rafayel and Zayne.

“Watching Rafayel crash out over DNA sequencing should put a smile on your face.”

He agrees before shuffling inside. 

You’ve always been a fixer, wanting to help your friends and family with whatever they’re going through. Even if it means sacrificing your wellbeing. You know it’s not the healthiest thing to do, but it’s almost like you’ve been programmed that way. You spent most of your childhood helping Caleb through his teen angst. And no with Xavier, you can help him feel better, distract him. With Rafayel, you can study with him. Zayne, you simply knock on his door and hand him a cup of Jasmine tea. Sylus is a bit trickier. He hasn’t told you much about his family life and can be a bit hard to read. But when it comes to keeping a hall full of angry students from bashing down his door at 3am, yeah, you can help with that.  

CAW CAW CAW CAW

You roll over and moan, already hearing Tara jump out of bed in a fury. She swings open the bathroom door and barges through, slamming her fist on the door to Sylus and Zayne’s room.

“Sylus I swear to god!”

You stumble out of bed and waddle through the bathroom just as Zayne opens the door, eyes heavy with sleep, his soundproof headphones hung around his neck. He mumbles something, but you just pat his shoulder and shuffle past him. Someone begins knocking on their main door and Tara takes the lead on damage control for tonight. You pull Zayne’s desk chair from across the room to Sylus’s desk, where he’s hunched over his crow. His fingers shake as he tries to maneuver the tiny chip into place. 

“Did you eat dinner?” You shout over the incessant cawing. 

He shakes his head and you open the top drawer of his desk to grab a granola bar. You open it and hold it up to his mouth. He doesn’t take his eyes off the chip, but does take a bite. When the chip finally slides into place, the cawing ceases and the crowd outside his door disperses. Except for Becket and Tiffany, the floor RAs, who begrudgingly enter the room to issue Sylus his second warning. 

“Sylus, you’ve got to stop working on this in the middle of the night. If you get one more warning, we’ll have to kick you out of the dorm. So please… just go to bed…”

They leave in a huff, slamming the door behind them. Sylus stares at the bird on his desk, half a granola bar in his mouth. The skin under his eyes is darker, like he hasn’t been sleeping at all. You hear Tara say something about going back to sleep and Zayne puts his headphones back on and curls up into a ball in his bed. 

“Sy?” He nods, acknowledging you. “Why can’t you sleep?” 

This gets his attention. He looks over, frowning when he sees your exhausted expression. 

“You’re not coming to dinner as often either. So, I’m not moving from this chair until you tell me what’s wrong so I can help.” 

He snorts and you pinch your lips together. Adorable. 

“You’ll be sitting there all night, kitten.”

“Then you better get me one of those energy drinks you’re hiding from Zayne.”

“It’s not your job to fix everything, you know?”

You know that, but you’re going to try anyway.

“But I can listen.”

And there you sat, all night, sipping on a sugary energy drink and eating granola bars until the early morning hours. Not everything he talked about was necessarily related to his “problem” but you could see the relief in his eyes as he vented.

He revealed that his father has been relentlessly messaging him about returning to Seoul. Telling him he should have enrolled in Seoul National University to study business. Criticizing every choice he makes: where he spent his summer, wasting his money on tattoos or ‘toy robots.’ His dad has no idea who his son is or what he cares about. 

“Usually, I don’t give a shit. It’s just been non-stop the past few days. I bought a burner just to avoid his calls. How fucked is that? Having to buy a goddamn burner phone so your father doesn’t call you during class?”

It’s around 7am when the sun peaks over the horizon, casting a hazy glow through the window. You’d moved to sit at the end of his bed since the Yale-provided desk chair had started to bruise your ass. At some point, Sylus had laid down, his head next to your thigh. When you woke up to Zayne’s alarm, his head had shifted to your lap, your fingers woven through his hair. You yanked your hand back to your chest and carefully slid a pillow under his head before climbing down off of his bed. Zayne had already spotted you, his arms crossed, silently judging you. 

“Don’t look at me like that. He’s sleeping and the bird is quiet. Take that as a win.” 

You’re not sure how you survived classes that day, but when you got back to your dorm Sylus was still fast asleep. You knew it’d be hell getting caught up on classwork, but he needed the sleep. And helping him study is a problem you can actually help with, unlike his situation with his asshole of a father. But you find yourself imagining what you’d say to the man if you ever met.

🍁🍂🎃🏈 

“Please tell me you guys are on your way. Please. Please please please.”

You shouldn’t be laughing, it’s not funny that you’re running late to the party. But Caleb has never been so anxious about a party in… well, ever. Clearing your throat, you steady your voice.

“If you had joined us, you could have micromanaged everything yourself.” He all but growls. “Tara is helping Rafayel with his makeup. We should be on our way in about 15 minutes.” 

Caleb groans, that was not what he wanted to hear.

“Just call me when you get here. I’ll get you past the line.”

“There’s a line?” You sputtered.

“It’s the Sigma Chi Halloween party, of course there’s a line! We’re the only frat that hosts a part on Halloween night. Everyone else hosts parties over the weekend. There’s already over 100 people downstairs.”

“Shit!” You squeal. “Okay, we’ll be there soon.”

You hang up and skip into the bathroom where Zayne and Xavier are getting ready. Xavier is more keeping Zayne company while he fights with his hair, he was the first to be ready. His costume was more a non-costume costume. Jeans, sneakers, a white t-shirt and a navy bomber jacket with a big NASA pin on the chest. The “casual astronaut” he called it. He just didn’t want to make a big fuss over an outfit he’d only wear once. Practical as ever.

“Zayne, are you sure you don’t need my help?” You offer.

He drops the comb to the counter, staring at his reflection. Putting on his glasses he turns to face you and raises his brow.

“Do you really think this is a good costume for me?”

You know he’s frustrated, but with his hair standing on end he looks like a different person. Add the glasses and sure enough, that’s Doctor Who alright. The blue suit he found at the thirst store is slightly oversized making the costume even better. Thanks to Sylus, he had a red tie and red converse. And he already owned a beige trench coat. You’d have to beg him to say ‘Allons-y’ at least once for Snapchat.

“You look perfect, Doctor.” 

His eyes brightened, a blush spreading over his cheeks. He’s working his ass off to become a real doctor, tonight he gets to just have fun but still kinda technically be one. You pat his shoulder as you continue into the other room. Tara is basically straddling Rafayel to get his eyeliner just right. You choke back a laugh and walk over to observe. 

“Tara, if you poke my eye one more time I swear to god…” She shushes him.

“How’s it going?” You inquire and Tara sighs.

“I’m almost done, just another… swipe… here…”

Rafayel wiggles and Tara slaps him, not hard enough to do damage but he still acts as though he’s been stabbed. He might be annoyed now, but he does look amazing. One eye smudged with red, the other smudged with blue, pointed curves of matching eyeliner dripping down his cheeks. Tara takes a tissue and smudges the lipstain on his lips so the corners of his mouth extend out. The purple in his hair had faded, making it the perfect time to add the red and blue temp dye. His costume was just as impressive as the makeup. An exact replica of the t-shirt from the movie, a thick sweater half red and blue, ripped blue jeans and a leather harness connected to his belt and choker. Top tier costume right here. He’d also painted a plastic bat since the frat wouldn’t allow real bats for safety reasons.

“Holy shit, Rafayel, you look incredible.”

Tara holds up a mirror and Rafayel grins, a cocky smile forming.

“Okay, Tara, I forgive you for stabbing me in the eye.” Tara hauls herself off his lap. 

“I need to apply my lashes and then we are good to go!” 

She runs back into your shared room. You couldn’t wait to get pictures together, the last person you matched with on Halloween was Caleb and there’s no chance he could pull off what Tara’s wearing. Black leather shorts, fishnet tights, a black velvet corset, chunky heels - all pulled together with a set of black devil horns and matching wings. The devil to your angel. 

You’re glad your mom and dad aren’t here, they’d never let you out of the house like this. A white mini skirt, thigh high white socks, a strapless white lace corset with a thick satin ribbon lacing up the back, white strappy heels. Your white wings and fluffy halo, in perfect contrast with Tara. It’s not that revealing, but it’s still the sexiest Halloween costume you’ve ever worn. 

Rafayel stands and crouches next to Sylus’s desk, where Sylus is typing away on his laptop. 

“Are they staying in?” 

“Haven’t fallen out for 30 minutes, so I think we’re in the clear.” Sylus said, his voice slightly off.

“So everyone’s ready then?” You ask.

Sylus closes his laptop and turns around in his chair. Oh how you wish you had been recording to capture his reaction. His eyes were already a main feature, but tonight they were even more intense with black liner smudged into sharp wings. So when his eyes widened, they damn popped out of his skull. His mouth literally dropped open, his gaze lingering over your bare shoulders, down to the little bows at the top of your socks against your thighs. For all the times you’ve been lost for words when looking at him, it was nice having it reversed for a change.

“Ahh… I wasn’t expecting… I thought - ahem - you look amazing, kitten.”

You could spot the fake fangs when he smiled, the little lisp he has thanks to the cosmetic piece is making your brain fuzzy. His costume was not too different from his everyday attire, maybe a tad more luxurious. Fitted suit pants, dress shoes, a red silk shirt unbuttoned so low you questioned your morals, and the amount of jewelry…

“Are you wearing every single piece of your jewelry collection?”

He stands, his hands held up as he examines them. 

“Pretty much. Is it too much?” You shake your head.

How you’re just now realizing his hair is slicked back is beyond you, but fuck he looks fantastic. Rafayel steps into your peripheral and crosses his arms.

“If you two are done flirting, we have a party to get to.”

You shoot a glare in his direction and he cackles, ignoring your fury. He heads for the bathroom and you can hear him rallying the troops to head out. Sylus stops at his dresser to pick up a tube of fake blood. He’s about to dab some to the corner of his mouth when you stop him.

“Wait! Use lipstain, it’ll last longer and you can eat and drink with it on.” You pick up the lipstain Tara left behind, offering it to him.

“Could you help me apply it? Seems like you’re more familiar with it than I am.”

He sits back on his desk and you slowly approach him while unscrewing the cap. You gently hold his chin while you swipe the product over the corner of his mouth, letting a small drop drip down. You realize you’re all but staring at his lips, reveling in his smoky scent and allowing your imagination to run wild. Even if it’s just for a moment. You feel Sylus’s hand on your hip and your eyes flick up to meet his. His lips part, as if he’s about to say something, but he stops himself, hesitates. Before he gets another chance, Tara is bounding into the room.

“We are lea– oh… I am interrupting something fantastic, I’ll go!” 

You back away from Sylus and grab her wrist. 

“No no no! I was just adding the final touches to his costume, we’re ready to go.”

You drag her behind you, leaving Sylus behind as you return to your room to grab your phone. Caleb will lose his shit if you all don’t get to the house soon.

🍁🍂🎃🏈 (Trigger Warning relates to this chapter)

The house was literally packed with people when you arrived. True to his word, Caleb helped everyone skip the line and get into the main house. You recognized his Top Gun jumpsuit and Aviators, he’d worn it last year. And the year before that. And the year before that. Obsessed is not a strong enough word for how he feels about Tom Cruise and that movie. 

Of course he gave you shit about your costume, but he stopped himself from running to his room to grab a hoodie for you to cover up with. Tara assures him that she’ll keep an eye on you and she’ll personally punch anyone who tries to touch in the throat. 

A few members of the fencing team are members of Sigma Chi, so as soon as they spot Xavier they crowd around him. Xavier has been looking happier recently. Turning up the intensity of your training sessions has helped him mellow out a lot. Sure, you’re so sore you can barely walk to class the next day and you have a few bruises, but you’re happy if he’s happy.

Caleb drags Rafayel and Sylus on a tour of the house while you, Zayne and Tara follow behind. 

“And here’s the sunroom, we have a couple amateur artists who come in here to paint or draw. I’m sure they’d love to get lessons from an actual art major. Our last Bachelor of Arts member graduated in May, so we need more creatives around here!”

Rafayel inspects some of the sketchpads left scattered around the room. He shakes his head, clearly unimpressed, but does occasionally crack a smile. Seems someone has potential. Continuing on, Caleb stops to point down a set of stairs to a metal door.

“Down these stairs is the workshop I mentioned. Luke and Kieran said they’d show you around a little later.”

The house is massive, plenty of rooms to house the members who want to live close to campus. The main kitchen is locked, but a secondary smaller kitchen is busy with people mixing drinks and eating the various appetizers prepared by the staff. Caleb grabs a beer and offers one to the rest of the guys.

“Is there any wine, by chance?” Rafayel asks.

“Actually, yes. Finley is a big wine fan, he should have a couple bottles around here.”

Once Rafayel has his wine, Caleb finds you and leans in so he’s not shouting over the crowd.

“If you want to try beer, you can take a sip from mine. Just don’t –”

“Don’t take a drink from any strange men, I know the drill. I’m good right now. This place is crazy! The pool is the size of a lake!”

Caleb chuckles. Someone calls his name and he promises to return as soon as possible. You watch him run off through the crowd and take a moment to look around. 

Zayne, of course, has found the sweets, but he’s also found someone to chat with. A tall girl, her light brown hair tucked up into a neat bun, her nurse costume only slightly revealing. She is wearing a sweater, which she keeps pulling closed to hide her chest. You can assume the costume choice wasn’t entirely her own. When Zayne smiles and points to a plate of macaroons she lights up, eagerly grabbing one to try. 

Rafayel and Xavier have reunited. If you had to guess, Rafayel is the one who dragged Xavier onto the dance floor. But it looks like they’re actually having fun, so you can’t help but smile. Even though they’re roommates, they haven’t exactly bonded like you and Tara have. When Xavier started joining you and Rafayel for your tutoring sessions, they started getting closer. It was like they were trying to see who could keep a straight face the longest while insulting each other. Zayne has started keeping score, writing down the funniest ones to use on Sylus. 

Speaking of Sylus, you look around and can’t find him. You assume he’s getting that tour of the workshop. Tara stays at your side, taking on the responsibility of socializing for the both of you. Parties are not your thing, even though you attended tons with Caleb in high school. He just had to be Mr. Popular. If it were up to you, you’d be curled up in bed with popcorn watching Halloweentown. But you wanted to at least try to be more social, try new things, meet people. 

As soon as Gideon showed up, Tara was fidgety. You could tell she wanted to hang out with him, but that would mean leaving you alone. 

“Tara, go! I’m fine! Caleb should be back soon.” She squinted at you. “Go! Flirt! Be merry!”

She hugs you before taking Gideon’s hand and following him through the crowd. You watch her for a minute, making sure she’s not being taken to some scary secret room. Gideon stops at the DJ booth and whispers something to the DJ. When the songs change to Tara’s favorite band, you want to applaud. Oh, he’s a keeper. 

You decide to get a drink while you wait. Making your way to the kitchen was a challenge, but once you’re there you huff a sigh of relief. You eye the bottles of booze, a few bottles of soda, a large bowl of punch and a whole keg of beer. You’ve tried beer before, it’s not for you. The punch is just out in the open, who’s idea was that? Hard liqueur scares you, so you play it safe with a soda. You fill up a red cup with ice from a cooler and open a new bottle. As you sip the cool beverage, you resume your scan of the crowd.

“Don’t start without me dude! Hold up!” 

A guy wearing a cop costume races by you, almost making you spill your drink all over yourself. You lean back and he pushes past. You watch him turn the corner and disappear. 

“Dylan! Watch where you’re going man!” 

A male voice calls out beside you. You turn to face the man, trying to hide the fact he startled you. An attractive blonde stands before you, his hair swoops down over his forehead, brown eyes so dark they’re almost black. He’s dressed as a firefighter, well, half-dressed. He wears the boots and pants, suspenders hang loosely off of his hips and a fireman’s hat sits on his head, but his chest is bare. 

“Sorry about him, Dylan’s always in a rush to get somewhere. I haven’t seen you around here before, have I?”

You clutch your drink to your chest and put on a polite smile. You shake your head.

“Well, I’m Chad, and you are?”

Of course his name is Chad. He’s the most Chad looking Chad you’ve ever seen. He’s a bit forward, but his company is not uncomfortable. You take a sip of your drink before answering. He rests his hip against the counter, crossing his arms across his chest. A marketing major with a scholarship to play baseball for Yale. He’s funny, but not that interesting. 

“Hey, is there a bathroom nearby?” Your chest feels tight, usually that’s a sign of a panic attack coming. You just need a few minutes to yourself. “I just need a second.” 

He guides you to the bathroom and follows you inside. Before you can tell him to leave, a hand reaches in and grabs him, yanking him back, hard. You gasp, stepping back through the door to see Chad on the floor. When you look up, you find Sylus standing over him. Your eyes widen, confused by his sudden appearance. 

“Fucking prick!” Chad stands and gets in Sylus’s face. 

You open your mouth to try to defuse the situation, but instead, you immediately turn to launch yourself towards the toilet. Emptying the contents of your stomach in the most painful way. Your sides ache from the force and you gasp for air. A hand suddenly pulls your hair away from your face and you see Tara kneel down beside you. You can’t even ask her what’s happening, your eyes watering as you heave once more.

Zayne’s voice echoes through the bathroom. You see his hazy figure through tearfilled eyes lifting the cup you left on the bathroom counter up to his nose. 

“I don’t smell anything.” There’s an edge to his voice. “I’ll carry her.”

Before you can try to speak again, Zayne is lifting you up. The pretty brunette he was talking to earlier drapes his coat over you and holds your cup carefully. Zayne carries you out of the bathroom with Tara and the other woman close behind. 

The house is loud, so fucking loud. There’s shouts and grunts and swearing. You hear Caleb’s voice calling out for Sylus, then Rafayel’s calling out for Zayne. Closing your eyes, you try to shut out the noise so you don’t vomit again. You can see flashes of red and blue behind your eyelids just before everything goes black.  

🍁🍂🎃🏈 

You wake up on the bathroom floor, a blanket wrapped around you and a towel rolled up to serve as a pillow. Your throat is dry, your head pounding, stomach cramping sharply. As you try to sit up, you hear Tara’s gentle voice.

“Hey, take it slow. Take a sip.”

She holds a bottle of water to your lips and helps you drink. There’s a bitter taste in your mouth, only made worse by the cool water. You look past Tara to see Rafayel and Xavier curled up on the floor next to Tara’s bed, fast asleep. Rafayel’s face pressed against Xavier’s chest, his makeup smeared onto Xavier’s jacket.

“What’s going on?” You rasp. 

She hands you the water bottle and you sit up a little straighter, leaning back against the wall. Before she gets a chance to explain, Zayne walks in. His costume has been replaced with sweatpants and a hoodie. Tara looks up at him from her position on the floor.

“The Benadryl worked, stopped the hives from spreading and she hasn’t thrown up in an hour.”

Zayne crouches and places the back of his hand to your forehead. 

“Good. Have her drink another bottle of water and then try some crackers. If she gets sick again, we’re going to the hospital.” 

Tara nods and you can’t stop the tears from welling up. The longer it takes them to tell you what’s wrong the more terrified you become. 

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” You beg.

Zayne kneels and looks to Tara, who looks ready to punch a wall.

“We think you were drugged at the party. And it seems you had an allergic reaction. You’ve been in and out for the past few hours.” Zayne explains. 

Zayne’s phone rings and he stands, apologizing as he leaves the room. You’re numb from head to toe. Barely keeping it together. Tara crawls over to sit next to you and puts her arm around you, pulling you into a hug.

“It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“Wh-where’s Caleb?”

Tara giggles softly and moves over, pointing into the room behind you. You turn to see Caleb passed out on Zayne’s bed, snoring softly.

“And Sy? Sylus?” 

“Tara, I need to borrow your car.” Zayne re-enters the bathroom and unceremoniously interrupts the conversation. “It’s urgent.”

Tara nods and hurries into your room. You look up at Zayne, taking in his clenched jaw and serious expression. Your stomach drops, which hurts given what it’s been through. 

“Zayne, where’s Sylus?”

He sighs. 

“In jail.” 🍁🍂🎃🏈 

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: (If you'd like to be added to the Ivy League taglist comment a🎓) @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human @kitsunetori @babyx91 @libriomancer @lilyadora @crowskitten22 @letharue @silverbrain @alastor-simp @drama-trauma @0tterteeth @mysticcollectionvoid @godzillaglitter @godoffuckedupcats @klmpun @ariallaisawesome @spidy-spider01 @ankitavminkook @m00nchildwrites @plsdonttakemyname @hauntedbysmutm0 @withering-dream @lostwingz2236 @simpfortheseven @bubbleteakittyy @stellar-seas @babylilxc @havenhope-art @lly5duck @freddy-2002-blog @sylus-hunter @plzdonutpercieveme @saybeyonce @red-f1sh-blue-f1sh @am-drawings AN: I am trying to be as respectful as possible with the delicate nature of what happened to FMC. In no way am I using what happened for meaningless plot. Sometimes a fixer needs to let others help them & knowing they have friends willing to do so with zero hesitation is extremely important. If you're a fixer, please make sure you're letting others help you and you don't beat yourself up for not being able to "do more."

[janeway-lover]

“Let me go!” The woman strained against the ropes holding her to the chair, but to no avail. “You can't do this to me!” 

“Will you shut up? God, your voice is annoying.” She growled at the man in front of her, but he just shook his head. “Mikey! Gimme your bandana!” One of the other men - there were about a dozen altogether, gathered around her in a circle - stepped forward and offered the fabric. “There,” he said as he tied it around her head like a gag, “that oughta shut you up.” 

“Boss, why do we need a screaming broad anyway? We ain't gonna kill her or nothing, right?” 

“Tony, stop talking like we're in the mob,” the first man said, as if this is something he's had to say before. “I told you, we're not going to kill her. Old Scratch is gonna do that all on his own.” 

“And then we get rich, Bobby?” 

“Yes, Mikey, and then we get rich.” 

When Bob Rodes had found the summoning book, he thought he'd found a gold mine. This would be the answer to all his prayers! The ritual to summon the Devil required a group, so he'd put out an ad on Craigslist: “Wanted: A dozen men for weekend job. Must be willing to get hands dirty. Pay negotiable. Discretion advised.” He'd managed to get together a decent group, and together they'd broken into the abandoned warehouse on the edge of town. The woman tied to the chair was a stripper he'd hired. She'd been told this was a bachelor party (and had very quickly realized it was not). 

The summoning circle had been drawn around the chair, and candles placed around its circumference. Carefully, the candles were lit, one after the other until the entire circle was lit. 

“Alright, everyone ready?” The men all nodded, while the woman screamed through the bandana. “Here we go.” 

The chant started off quiet, but grew louder as all the men joined in. Their voices combined to drown out the woman’s muffled screams. But when the small flames began to grow, her protests died off, instead staring in silent fear. Even as the flames grew to be taller than the men, they didn’t stop chanting. Faces appeared in the fire, grinning teeth and sharp eyes. 

And all at once, the flames went out. The room was thrust into sudden darkness, all other lights having been covered as well. It had gone silent, the men’s chanting stopping as soon as it had gone dark. 

A laugh broke the silence. 

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” a woman’s voice said. The candles magically were relit, revealing the newcomer in the center of the circle. The new woman stood behind the woman on the chair, with a crown on her head and a dark gown that clung to her. Her hair was red as blood, and her purple eyes made eye contact with Bob, her gaze never leaving his. “Chasing fame and fortune, are we?” 

“Who - who are you? We summoned the Devil, not -” 

“You summoned me,” she said, “the King of Hell. The Devil would be of no use to you, anyway.” Her nails extend to claws as she runs a gentle hand over the other woman’s head. “He left Hell long ago.” 

“We want -” 

“To make a deal, I know.” She turns her gaze to the woman who has been tied up, a calculating look in her eyes. “And you’ve brought along a sacrifice as well. You’re not willing to trade your souls, then?” A few of the men whispered amongst themselves. Souls? Bobby hadn’t said anything about that. “Uninformed accomplices, summoning demons, and tying a woman up? Why, Mr. Rodes, it looks like you’ve formed a cult.” 

The man growled at her. She growled back, a low noise that seemed to shake the very walls of the building. 

“Will you make the damn deal with me or not?” He’s clearly tense, thrown off by her attitude. 

“Of course.” She’s staring at him again, like he’s wounded prey. “Tell me, what is it you desire?” 

“I want to be rich,” he said, as if the words were being pulled from him. “Rich enough that my wife will change her mind about leaving me.” 

“And why does your wife want to leave you?” 

“She thinks I’ve been unfaithful.” 

“Is she correct?” Her stare felt like a weight pressing down on his chest. 

He hesitated for a moment, but he couldn’t seem to turn away from her. “Yes.” The grin she gave him was too sharp, too full of teeth. It was terrifying. 

“I propose a new deal. Leave now, and no one gets hurt. You can all go back to your families, and no one will ever be the wiser of what you tried to do here.” 

“What?” All the men echoed similar protests. “But, but we summoned you. You have to make a deal.” 

“I don’t have to do anything, darling. But even if I did, no one said it had to be your deal.” Her claws have grown even longer, her teeth even sharper. “If you do not leave now, you will be harmed, and you will be charged with kidnapping. I am offering you the chance to leave.” 

“I am not going to be scared off by some bitch playing dress-up,” he hissed, only to be met with her laughter. 

“Very well.” Abby leaned down to whisper in the captive woman’s ear. “Close your eyes, poppet. No need for you to see this.” The woman nodded and did as she was told, the last thing she saw being Abby leaping forward, wings out, claws and teeth bared. 

When the screams finally stopped, she hesitantly cracked an eye open. The men were all on the ground, groaning. Several of them were bleeding, and she nearly gagged. 

“Oh dear, no need for that now.” Abby stepped closer to be right in front of her. Gone were the sharp teeth and claws, and her wings had been tucked away. “Look at me, not them, dearie. That’s it, good girl.” She reached around and undid the bandana. “Do you have a name, darling?” 

“Ch-Chelsea.” 

“Alright, Chelsea, let’s get you out of these ropes, hmm?” She pulled out a small curved knife and, careful not to nick her, sliced the ropes cleanly off. 

“Are - are you going to kill me?” The poor dear was shaking in fear. 

“No, I’m not going to kill you. I think we should get you out of this room.” She held out a hand, and Chelsea took it, getting to her feet rather unsteadily. “There you go, I’ve got you. Chelsea, can you tell me how you got here?” 

“I drove,” she managed to say. “Thought it was a gig. I do a lot of bachelor parties.” Abby just nodded and continued to support her as the pair walked out to Chelsea’s car. 

“Can you tell me where we are, my dear?” 

“Alviso, outside San Jose.” 

“California?” Chelsea nodded. “Oh, that’s perfect. Do you think you can make it to L.A?” 

“Probably? Don’t know if I’ve got enough gas in my car for that, though.” This just got her a smile. 

“Never you mind about that. There’s somewhere I want you to go.” She flicked her fingers, and there was a business card in her hand. “It’s called Lux.” 

“The club?” 

“Ah, so you’ve heard of it. Yes, the club. The man who owns it is…very familiar with this sort of thing. He’ll be able to help you bring these men to justice.” 

“Why can’t you help me?” 

“I can’t stay on Earth that long,” she said with a sad smile. “But don’t worry. I trust him with my life; he will help you, I promise.” Chelsea still looked nervous. “What is it?” 

“What if something happens along the way? I’m…scared.” She didn’t look at Abby as she said this, as if she was ashamed of it. 

“Look at me, dear girl. Come here.” When she stepped closer, Abby reached out, gently taking hold of the sides of her face. “You shall have my protection. None shall harm you.” She leaned down and pressed a kiss to the woman’s forehead, leaving a perfect lipstick mark. It shimmered slightly before dissipating. 

“Who should I ask for? When I get to the club?” Her voice was wobbly, but she looked up at Abby with wide eyes. 

“The owner; Lucifer Morningstar.” 

“The Devil?” she asked. 

“My father,” Abby corrected. “He will recognize my protection. Go now.” Chelsea nodded and got in her car, taking one last look at the King. 

“Thank you.” The only response was a nod and a smile. As she started the car, she looked in the rearview mirror. Abby was gone.

[newborn-vessel]

They should add a new Princess called The Changed where if you talk to the Princess about if she even wants to be a princess at all or if she's even thought about what she wants to be and then she ends up being like Well I Just Am The Princess I Haven't Tried To Be Anything Else and then she lets you kill her since you're here to Slay Princesses after all then in the next run the cabin looks a little less like a cabin and the woods a bit different also and when you go in and descend the Princess doesn't have a tiara and her hair is looser and she's in dungarees rather than a dress and you talk and she's like Yeah I Get That You're Here For A Princess But Neither Of Us Want To Be Like This Clearly and then instead of slaying she asks you to cut her hair and let her look at her reflection in the blade and keeps arguing that technically she's barely a princess anyways and that she'd gladly give up the role while the Narrator is like "This is a trick to get away! Sure she looks... different to what you expect but she still can destroy the world!" and then the Princess is like If I Stop Being A Princess Would You Stop Needing To Slay Me? Would I Be Free To Be Who I Want and then gets forlorn about being doomed to be a princess and cuts into her chest with the Pristine Blade and you die trying to stop her and then in the final loop you'd get the Narrator saying "You are on a trail through a field. At the end of that trail is a camping hut. In the basement of that hut is- wait what this is all wrong there's supposed to be a cabin and you're meant to slay a Princess where even is this?" and then you go into the hut and down to the basement (the Pristine Blade is on top of a chest of drawers and the hut looks Lived In) and there is what the Narrator describes as "distinctly not the Princess" where it's a man in a regal looking suit chained barely to the wall and you ask if this guy knows if there's any princesses nearby and he says Well No I'm The Only One Down Here, I Haven't Seen Anyone Else Before You As Far As I Know and te Narrator is increasingly confused because you Have To Slay The Princess but is dismayed that the Princess isn't here and keeps worrying that she's escaped already and everything is doomed and you're wasting your time talking to this random man and you stop to ask the man who he is and he pauses for a long while before saying I Guess You Can Call Me... The Prince? and you're like well alright and the Narrator is like "Hmm that's... close to a Princess... Make sure he isn't going to destroy the world." and you ask if he's going to destroy the world and he says I Don't Think So, I Wouldn't Even Know How To Honestly and so you pop open the shackles with the Pristine Blade and ask the Narrator what to do and the Narrator is like "I don't know honestly. I'm meant to know what's happening but I don't know how there could be no Princess to slay. That was the entire point! It was your whole mission and why you seemed to be here! I am not quite sure what comes next now..." and then The Prince suggests that you just Leave and you say yeah that sounds good and an ending comes in the form of leaving to find your own purpose outside of the rigid frameworks you were both thrust into. The Voice of the Smitten is bisexual and also there.

[anastacialy]

tracked down this clip just because of this post! have jokes from skizz and scar

[simcardiac-arrested]

never volunteer for anything university related man. also go listen to this

[selfinflictedgunshotwound]

sorry for only saying this type of shit lately but i kinda wanna drive a car straight into a brick wall at the highest speed possible

[icewindandboringhorror]

I occasionally wish to reach out to old friends/acquaintances I haven't spoken to since high school/some other even earlier time in my life, but I have SOOO little social energy even for required tasks (like making dr phone calls or etc), I never have any leftover for extra ones, and it would be very odd to message someone I haven't spoken to in like 5 years out of the blue but then take 4 entire months to respond back lol.. My natural curiosity with nostalgia/collecting details of the past/etc. (literally if I were born a little earlier I would definitely do scrapbooking or something lol) is very strong, but, alas, not strong enough to beat out the Social Issues Demons apparently

[timeclipsed]

(✯) @hiswrlds — my tomorrow's still your today

— ;; Cavorting through encrypted hoops to find the source of the diabolical Doctor Robotnik's strange series of radio broadcasts certainly wasn't an easy task to accomplish, nor was it one of an opaque nature. Stumbling into the tracked location, an autobody shop in disrepair, should have been the end of it. Facing the looming figure of imminent destruction waiting with bated breath for their confrontation, taking him up on his all-too-confident proposition of a fight, and walking away from it victorious as always.

However, a mess of familiarly-hued orange fur and bushy twin tails is what's there to greet instead. Positioned comfortably in a chair towards the northeast corner of the room behind the desk, attention buried into whatever colorful literature he’s reading this week per usual. Chiming above the glass door, the greeting bell indicates the arrival of a second presence, and his ear twitches without making eye contact.

❝Sorry. The good doctor’s currently out to lunch,❞ the spiel coming from the lips of Tails, such a perky, bright-eyed kid, now speaking in a way that’s decidedly practiced and monotonous, feels strange and uncomfortable. ❝Just leave your first name and your phone number on the notepad and he’ll call you back at his earliest convenience.❞

— ;; Threading fingers through tufts of unruly bangs, growling an irritated sigh, he stands up, half-slouched over to reach for a stray pen— 

— ;; —And then he looks up.

[occkalt]

Kat doesn't know what's wrong with her lately.

It's infuriating. If she doesn't know the problem, how is she supposed to solve it? ...It can't be that she's getting scared. She decided a long time ago that she was going to find her dad, and that it didn't matter what happened to her... Never once has she wavered on that decision - in fact, it's the thought of giving up instead that fills her with a stomach-churning kind of fear.

But it's the small things she's noticing. ...Nothing is as fun as it used to be. Anxiety buzzes inside of her for no good reason. Sometimes, she feels as though nothing is real, and she's hit with a fleeting sense of desperation that makes her want to run back home and sleep until everything's fine again...

The worst part is that she's been putting off thinking about her plans. Even though she was so excited about this latest ritual, it feels like that excitement has drained away into nothing for no reason at all. Even Annie has noticed her bad mood as a result, teasing her about it a little, though there's genuine concern underneath that, too.

But today, she's not going to procrastinate anymore. The person she's seeing is supposedly a witch, and Kat's going to get something out of her for sure. Most people don't react well to talk of occult rituals, witch or not, so she'll have to be a little sneaky, but that doesn't bother her at all.

"Hey, this stuff isn't bad!" she exclaims, taking another gulp of her drink. She isn't lying, either - she's genuinely a little impressed. "Looks like you do really know your stuff after all. But hey, you can't blame me for being skeptical."

@magurisu ( starter! )

[quietlyblooms-gone]

@goldcnpeaks specified for a spicy starter! they got a novel

something's shifted between the two of them. chiyo chalks it up to hunger -- that familiar, gnawing hollowness in her stomach is enough to convince her. hunger makes her hyperaware, makes her tense, makes her notice jovie's scent and how pretty her neck is. that makes sense. that keeps chiyo calm, allows her to treat that night like any other she would ask jovie to let her feed.

it's taken a while for chiyo to trust herself enough to not need luka in the room with them. now she almost wishes he were there, suddenly worried because something feels different. there's a heaviness in the air, her pulse quickening as she settles herself in jovie's lap; they've done his countless times now, have it all figured out how to keep themselves comfortable during the process, yet chiyo is shy, stiff as she clutches the witch's shoulders and sinks her teeth into her neck.

that's when it gets easier. blood makes everything easier, soothing chiyo's racing heart and easing the tension from her muscles. one arm curls around jovie's shoulders, pressing her closer, and the vampire sighs in utter pleasure and contentment as she shifts upon her lap. so sweet, so filling, and too soon her belly is full.

this is the part she always feels guilty about. almost like an apologetic puppy, chiyo gently laps at the weeping wound upon jovie's neck until the bleeding stops. blood makes everything easier, but maybe too easy. chiyo nuzzles her friend's jaw, shifting again until they're nose-to-nose, green eyes staring back at half-lidded brown. closer. closer. something in her begs, aching for the witch. closer, please.

blood still coats chiyo's lips, smeared in a way that doesn't look as unusual as it should, but she doesn't think to wipe it away before she's leaning forward. there should be some hesitation, some trepidation -- that would be like chiyo. there isn't any of that. blood makes everything too easy, allowing the blonde to kiss jovie with a gentle fervor that betrays her. so tender she is, so eager to please, and so softly does she sigh as she tangles her fingers in cinnamon-colored tresses.

" so sweet... " chiyo breathes against jovie's scarred lips. " it's addicting. "

[militaryapple]

I'LL GIVE IT ALL TO YOU.

synopsis. caleb finds out you’re sleeping with other men. other men who look like him. if you wanted him so badly why didn’t you say so? it’s fine, he’ll just fuck the sense back into you.

cw. fem!reader, praise, edging, overstimulating, calebs a big meanie, reader fucks around and finds out, breeding, idk I need him so bad.

add ons. guys I'm so tired OH DONT GAG ME I FORGOT TO FIX THE SYNOPSIS THIS WAS MADE AT LIKE 11 AM BABES

wc. 2.2k

caleb has always had tabs on you. whether you liked it or not. he needed to know what you were doing, who you were with. it was just.. a safety precaution - well that's what he told himself anyways. he knew your friends , the people you worked with , even going as far as learning who your neighbors were. he could only thank his position as the fleet's colonel for letting him get this information. he was originally going to plant a chip in your phone and learn about both your social and personal life but this just made his little watch-sessions a little easier than what they had to be.

and so caleb thought he had nothing to worry about, truly. he knew where you were at all times and have been in your life for a decent amount of time there should be no one new. well - anyone that poses a threat to him anyways. it's not like you could hide anyone from him anyways.

is what he thought, so so foolishly.

it wasn't until you started spending your time at different places. unknown places at that. caleb took note of each and every house you were in. he took note of the people who lived there. man after man after fucking man. he didn't want to think the unthinkable, how you could be so stupidly whoring yourself out for perverts? one night fucking stands? this wasn't like you, far from you. it wasn't until he looked closer at the men you were fucking, and jesus.

they looked somewhat similar to caleb. it only engulfed him with rage. his heart hurting and pounding. if you wanted him so badly why haven't you spoken to him? talked to him? why were you going around trying to find scraps of him while he was already here for you? with you? arms open and ready for you whenever you were ready for him? that's when caleb decided he needed a bit of time off from work.

caleb made his way home. door opening as he scanned the living room for you. he sat down on the couch, still. he was going to talk to you about this little issue you had. it was gonna be fine, right? he talks to you, you tell him and this could all be swept under the rug. it wasn't until hours later, he heard the twist of the door and the creak of it opening.

just like when you both were in high school, every time you snuck out you would try to slip in silently. though you were never really silent, and caleb was the first to catch you back home before gran. what made you think this time would be any different?

he hands clenched as he stood. caleb didn't think about changing out of his uniform, hell he couldn't think about anything. all that filled his mind was anger. pure. fucking. rage.

"welcome home." he said, it was almost bittersweet. you looked at him, with a sheepish smile. waving. "hi caleb, didn't expect you home." was all you were able to muster out, and that was before caleb took a step closer to you. he watched as you twist and turn, looking for an escape. anything to help you leave, but that wasn't happening. not with him. not now.

"where were you?" he asked, his gaze shifting from you to your body. the clothes you wore tolling him more than enough.

"out." you said softly, you gaze averting his. "with a friend."

caleb scoffed, grabbing your arm and pushing you on the couch as he leaned down. you felt like you were being interrogated, which in theory, you were. "bullshit." he snarled. "you wouldn't be out for hours at some 'friend's' house. nonetheless a friend named fucking jacob. do you think I'm dense, pip-squeak?" caleb was angry, his hands balled up. his body shaking. every movement made him want to die, he could smell the foreign musk, the way you attempted to fix your hair. it was the only time he couldn't bear to be near you.

"he looks just like me." he scoffed. "just. like. me." he moved away from you. in a situation like this, you would've blown up at another guy. yelling at him on how he was able to even find out what house you were in, but it was caleb. of course you couldn't hide anything from him. how stupid could you be trying to anyways?

you couldn't say anything, you wouldn't dare. you lowered your head, but caleb wasn't taking that. he grabbed your chin tilting your head upwards to face you. "don't do that pip-squeak. if you wanted me - craved me, fucking needed me , why didn't you say anything? I'm here. in the flesh." his words piercing through you. oh how he hated being mean towards you, your wavering lips was all that he needed to see before he eventually got down. your head lowering so you could make comfortable eye contact with him.

calebs hands moved from your chin to your cheek. "come on pips," he huffed softly. "you're being reckless for no reason. instead, I'll show you how much I want you, how much I missed you, yeah? you don't need those other guys. after all, they can't beat the real thing." he snickered softly, and you could only nod your head in approval.

"ah-ah, say it. I need a verbal answer." caleb wanted to make sure what he was doing was okay, was right. he wanted to make it known that after tonight, there were no more caleb 2.0's. no more 'casual friendship'. that there would be more than what the two of you already had.

"please show me caleb."

he tugged on your skirt, pulling it down your leg as he rubbed small circles on your panties making you groan. he was being mean. really mean. you grabbed his arm, "caleb, don't tease me. your hands are cold - ah, your gloves." you whined. caleb could only chuckle. "you think you can tell me what to do right now baby? really? just shh and enjoy what I'm giving you."

you groaned, he was slow, too slow. your heat dripped as you twitched and squirmed. caleb used his evol to keep you down, leaning in and placing small kisses around you neck. "do you know how long I've had to restrain myself?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"how many times -" kiss. "I've had to get off thinking about you?" kiss. "I've held myself back until you were ready." kiss. "and you've made it so so difficult baby." kiss.

each word sent a shiver down your spine, teasing you and handling you. caleb looked over at you smiling. "i think you're ready, don't you?" he said softly.

caleb leaned in towards your aching cunt. staring at it like he was starving. he grabbed his hat before placing it down on the side of the couch. "grab on my hair if its too much 'kay baby?" he rubbed your thigh. you nodded in agreement as a smirk laid on his face. Caleb dug in. he licked your cunt making you mewl. your hands searched for something, anything to do.

caleb sucked on your pretty clit, groaning as he tasted your sweetness. he used his free hand, making his way up your body. finding your hand and making sure he intertwined both of your fingers.

he was starved. he placed sloppy kissing on your lips. his tongue finding any to go deeper in you. you felt hot, fuzzy. he made you feel so fucking good, other men were useless compared to him. he was right, nothing - nobody compared to how he made you feel.

and right now he was making you feel fucking divine.

the feeling of calebs tongue on your click made you shiver in ecstasy, it wasn't until moments later you used the hand on his head to pull him back. oh did he look absolutely pussy drunk off you.

your juices flowed off his chin while he licked his lips. the way he looked up at you in pure bliss. oh god did you love this man. "you look so cute, and you taste perfect." he said softly, going back and licking the juices he neglected. you shook and grabbed more of his hair.

"caleb 'm gonna -" you whined, bucking your hips up as he used his hand to hold you down. the other still holding your free hand. caleb hummed in approval, giving you the signal that you could finally let out the release you were holding in. caleb suckled for a moment before moving back, admiring the mess he just made of you.

he got up, his evol lifting you as he sat down in the spot you were once in. his legs spread before placing you in between them. his fingers pushing your panties over before they made their way inside your cunt. your hips buckled at the feeling, caleb grabbed your waist with his arm bringing you back down.

"its okay baby, you can take it." he coos "I know you can, 'gotta make sure you can take me , hm?" you moaned as his fingers stretched you. the sensation of his gloves curving as he hit every spot of your gummy walls. you clenched and twitched between him, making him plant soft kisses on your face down to your neck. "cmon you can take it. stay still, if you don't get through this you wont be able to take me." he reassured you. how big was he?

caleb pushed another finger in. hushing you and kissing you while tears strained down your face. oh he was being mean. "caleb - please 'm gonna cum again" you cried. in response he moved his arm that was holding you down. now using one hand to pump his fingers in you and another to move in little swirls on your clit. you throw your head back in pleasure.

"aren't i the best? making you cum twice? jacob couldn't do that, could he now?" he hummed in your ear, you whined in approval. caleb moved his hands out of you. "since I'm feeling generous, I'll let you ride my cock. but in return.." his voice trailing off as he moved his finger to your belly.

"I'm gonna make you into a mother." he coo'd in your ear, nibbling it. "so I can show everyone who you belong to. to show that you don't need other men. I'm here." caleb planted a kiss on the back of your neck.

it didn't take caleb any time before he was unzipping his pants, pulling on the fabrics waist line and pulling out his cock. "I need you to relax for me, you're ready." he said, pulling you up by your hips and straddling you down on his hard on. oh god, did he feel good.

your cunt dripped all over his base. he couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. "look at you, messy girl. we haven't even started yet you're already dripping all over me." he grunted adjusting himself a little more.

caleb rocked your hips. he whined for you "mhm that's it, work those hips for me." he moaned. he loved the feeling of pumping his inches in and out of you. the 'pop' noise your cunt and his cock made as he slid out and back in.

your cunt was brimmed to the top with cock. so full it made you think of only him and you. fuck, you were lewd. you couldn't even form a sentence, the only sound coming out of your mouth being moans and pants that were increasingly getting faster and faster.

"gonna come again? come on come with me its - ah okay." his voice was raw and rasp. his gloves dug into your skin as you made a mess on both his cock and his uniform. he didn't care, he was going to clean his uniform this week anyways. it was a sign to let people know that he was yours, and you were his.

caleb still fucked you deep. he caused your toes to curl up and your legs to lift to help him massage every part of you. clit and all. he grunted as he slammed into you, his rhythm leaving and now becoming messy thrusts. "I'm gonna come inside baby, okay? yeah? I'm gonna make you a mommy. oh fuck" he groaned.

"gonna make you bear all my children. fuck fuck" his hips stammered. "just me 'n you 'kay?" you clenched down on him. your back arched as your hands made their way to his thighs gripping tightly.

caleb bit down on his lip, not wanting to hurt you. both of your breaths steadying before caleb moved his head in your neck. he didn't dare pull out, all of his sweet cum would leak out, and you wouldn't want that right?

"I told you," he heaved "I'm better then some lousy rip-offs pip-squeak." he panted heavily. you nodded in approval. he knew that you wouldn't go to any more one night stands. still, there was a long way to go. he still hasn't made you a mom.

and he was going to make sure you bore his children.