#put myself through that emotional turmoil again

[black-and-yellow]

Buggy stuff. Let's mix it up a little.

[silentauthor96]

Earlier tonight I was listening to The Reason by Hoobastank (2019 Acoustic Version) and 15 minutes later I was sitting on my floor trying to pinpoint the exact moment when I should've realized there could never be a happy ending for Sam and Dean Winchester and this is what I mean when I tell people Supernatural will ruin your life and actually no one else should watch it ever again

[meazalykov]

you smell like vanilla

selma bacha x lyon!reader

warnings: none

As I step onto the field, the familiar scent of freshly cut grass mingles with the cool crisp air of Lyon's training ground. This is where I belong, where I feel most alive. As I zip up my blue windbreaker jacket, I cover my lower face with a black ski mask so the cold air doesn’t trigger my allergies. 

As I place my ski mask over my face, I am reminded of the ritual I never skip. A spritz of vanilla-scented perfume consumed my nostrils and I remind myself of my signature perfume I put on before practices. The delicious scent wrapping me in its comforting embrace. It's a small indulgence, a reminder of myself and my home. And as I catch a whiff of the sweet fragrance, I can't help but cough one time—maybe I sprayed a little too much this morning.

Practice is grueling, demanding nothing but perfection for the upcoming champions league semifinal against PSG. Yet, amidst the drills and tactics, there's always the distraction lurking nearby. Selma Bacha, the best left-back in the world—she's a force to be reckoned with. But my heart flutters everytime I see her. It's not just her talent that captivates me; it's the way her french eyes light up when she's on the field, the passion that radiates from her every move.

And then there's her reaction to my vanilla perfume every time she's near me. It's subtle, barely noticeable to anyone else, but I see it in the way her gaze lingers a moment longer, in the way she inhales deeply when she passes by. It's a secret I guard closely, the knowledge that something as simple as a scent can stir such emotions. But Selma, she's not one to hold back.

“*sniff sniff*---hm–--délicieuse” Selma sniffs extremely close to my neck before looking me in the eyes. She smirks before walking around me to get to the other side of the pitch. I wasn't fluent in French but I had an idea on what she said, considering this isn't the first time she's done this.

Her flirtatious banter, her playful nudges – they're impossible to ignore. And though my heart races at her proximity, I fake my annoyance, masking the turmoil and gushy feelings within as I roll my eyes. It's safer this way, I tell myself, to keep my feelings hidden beneath a facade of annoyance.

“I saw that.” Ellie says as walks up to me. We both start drills on the agility ladder at the same time. My eyebrows knitted together before asking the Australian, “What do you mean?” 

“I saw that interaction between Selma and you.” 

“Its not-” 

“Don’t pretend that you didn’t like what she did.” Ellie cuts me off with a smirk as I roll my eyes again.

See, I'm not as subtle as I think. All of my teammates, especially Ellie, Lindsey, and Danielle, see through my charade with knowing glances and a teasing grin. They know the truth, I didn’t have to tell them. My poker face might’ve been decent to strangers but my eyes can’t conceal my true feelings for the French woman. My heart skips a beat whenever Selma's near, that beneath my tough exterior lies a vulnerability I dare not show.

Hours later, as the sun sets and the day draws to a close, I retreat to the comfort of my nightly routine. The warm water cascades over me in the shower with a mingling with the scent of vanilla that fills the air. I take my vanilla scented scrub and lather it over my body, making sure the dead skin goes away before I shave. My night routine is a moment of solitude, a chance to unravel the knots of each day’s events.

But even in the sanctuary of my shower, I can't escape her presence. Selma's laughter echoes in my mind, her image etched into my thoughts. As I finished shaving and started to wash myself with a Vanilla scented body wash, I hope that she will notice the scent in training tomorrow morning. 

And as I towel off and slip into bed, I can't shake the feeling that despite my best efforts, I'm falling deeper with each passing day for Selma.

The next morning after a grueling training session, Danielle corners me with a determined look in her eyes. She knows there's something I've been hiding, something I've been avoiding. However, I am the strongest on the team when it comes to hiding my feelings. With a gentle yet persistent tone, the Dutch begins her heartfelt plea.

“Danielle, not now.” I sigh, feeling drained and exhausted. But Danielle is not one to let things go, especially when it comes to relationship matters.

"Y/N, we need to talk about Selma," Danielle insists, her voice soft but unwavering. "I see the way you look at her, the way you light up when she's around. You might believe that you’re hiding your feelings very well– but you aren't. Sorry but trust me, she feels the same about you."

I'm taken aback by her words, a flicker of hope stirring within my heart. Before I can respond, Danielle continues, her words flowing freely.

"I know you're scared, Y/N. Scared of letting someone in, of being vulnerable. We all know about the shield you try to put up so you can be the “stronger person”. But love isn't a weakness; it's a strength you know?? And Selma, she's worth the risk. She won’t tell you how she feels about you unless you give her the green light."

My defenses begin to crumble, the weight of my emotions threatening to overwhelm me. As much as I wanted to say it– my words choke inside of my throat. After a quick deep breath, while shaky, I met Danielle's gaze, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Danielle, you don't understand. I'm not just scared of being vulnerable. I'm scared of being in love with her. It's like... like giving someone the power to break me into a million pieces. Especially since we are on the same team, you know? Is this how you and Ellie felt before you guys were together?” 

“Yes–but we took the chance. Now we are getting married next year!” Danielle smiled. This gave me reassurance as I smiled at the shorter woman. 

Danielle's expression softens at my smile, a silent understanding passing between us. She reaches out, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder covered with the blue lyon windbreaker.

"I get it, Y/N. I really do. But sometimes, you have to do it before it's too late. Just tell Selma how you feel so you can stop stressing yourself out.” 

My heart aches with the weight of Danielle's words, the truth ringing loud and clear in my ears. And as I looked towards the goal post closest to the two of us, I knew I needed to tell Selma how I felt. If Danielle wasn’t wrong, maybe I won’t embarrass myself. 

An hour later I sit in the passenger's seat of Selma’s car, the engine idling softly as Selma sits beside me, the silence between us almost tangible. Before this, I asked her in the locker rooms if we could talk somewhere. Believing that the locker room around teammates wouldn’t have been the smartest idea, we chose to go in her black suv instead. My heart races with nerves, my palms damp against my thighs covered with my black yoga pants. This is it, the moment I've been building up to, the moment I can't avoid any longer.

Before I could start, Selma spoke up first with a laugh: “You smell very good.” 

I laughed softly before saying thank you. Remembering that i’ve purposely sprayed my vanilla perfume on before leaving the locker rooms to get here.

"Selma," I begin, my voice barely above a whisper, "um—there's something I need to tell you."

She turns towards me, her gaze soft and encouraging, a flicker of curiosity in her eyes. This look was unusual for the hyper and silly woman, "What is it, Y/N?"

I take a deep breath, gathering my courage, knowing that this is a moment that could change everything. "I... I love you, Selma. Um— I love you more than just a teammate– I love you, as a lover" I said. I could have worded that better but my nervousness got the best of me. The French woman looks at me with a smirk before processing what i’ve confessed. 

For a quick moment, the world stands still, the weight of my confession hangs in the air. And then, slowly, the smirk spreads across Selma's face again, a warmth filling her eyes.

"Y/N," she says, her voice barely above a whisper, "I love you too. I fell in love with you at the beginning of the season, which is why I didn't stop bothering you. I love you so much."

Relief floods through me, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes as she reaches for the space on the jaw below my ear. She pulled me into a kiss which warmed my heart entirely. Her plump lips felt soft against mine and I relaxed into the feeling of finally being hers, after pretending like I didn’t want to be. 

“Damn– you own vanilla lip balm too?” Selma says licking her lips, she pulls away to look at my lips before looking at my love-filled eyes again. I laughed, knowing that I did have vanilla lip balm in my vanilla collection too, “Yes I do.” I smiled. 

"je l'aime." Selma says before leaning for a kiss again.

<3

[jamesleecult]

James lee x gn!reader : In case you come back one day.

The reader rants about their past relationships experience on a song comment section they recently listened to.

note: James kinda ooc(?), attempted to angst. I was planning to make it like the reader view, like their feelings then what happened(flashback or smthg idk) but I’m lazy. Not proof read, I’m bad. Reader kinda still hung up, if you squint enough I’m kinda listening to a sad song rn. Bold font for the typing and the italicized for flashback. (Plottwist dg wrote the song and saw the comment lol) with the help of Grammarly.

During the midnight hour, their finger danced across the keyboard, each keystroke echoing in the quiet room. Blending with the faint whirr of the glowing screen with melody’s in the background.

The sounds of the faint tapping on the keys stopped, few moments later - a sound of clicking can be heard as they began to typed again.

I've met it fresh and hot, it was years ago, yet it felt like yesterday. Actually, I've been walking so far that I can start again with someone else, but in my heart I secretly ask a question. Do I really still have a spot left for him?

In their distant and hazy memories, They shared soft whispers and laughter, the gentle breeze carrying their words like secrets through the air. With each stolen glance and faint smiles.

Or always ask myself that do I love the person in front of me equally to that person. Until now.

In the dimly lit ambiance of their favorite spot, he sat across from them- on the side, his demeanor cool and composed, concealing the turmoil within. They sensed a distance growing, a chill settling in the air.

“We need to talk,” he began, his voice steady, devoid of emotion, easily making their pulse quickened, a knot forming in the stomach.

"I met a lot of people, but in the end, no one can replace you." Right into the hook. I realized, I didn't intend to hurt the person infront of me.

“What’s wrong?”

I just want myself to try and start again, but now I understand that.

“This,” the red haired boy, he gestured subtly between them, “isn’t working anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

I did never stop loving or stop missing him at all.

Confusion etched across their face, so many questions left unanswered. He met their gaze, his eyes holding a depth they couldn’t fathom.

“I’m leaving.”

I wanna say something in case, even if I never get the chance to tell him.

“Leaving? Why?” Panic rising within them making their heart skipped a beat.

“I can’t stay,” the tall boy stated firmly, his tone unwavering. “It’s not safe for you.”

They searched his eyes for answers, finding only resolve. “Not safe? What are you talking about?—That’s not true. We love each other. We can work through whatever it is!”

I got so many questions that was never answered, you left with no room for me to ask further more. What’s happening? Did I do something wrong?

As they spoke, he looked away, sighing at their persistence. Unable to meet their gaze. “No, you don’t understand. I’m.. I’m dangerous.”

Their brows furrowed in confusion and annoyance. “What do you mean, dangerous?”

“I can’t explain” he said, his voice barely a whisper in disappointment. “But you need to trust me. You need to let me go.. there are things you don’t know about me. Things that could put you in danger if I stay.”

Their mind raced, trying to make sense of his words. “But I don’t understand. We are together, we love each other- why are you leaving me with just.. short explanations?”

Then you just disappeared for no reason. I couldn’t find you, as if you were gone.

“…farewell.”

And with that he just walked away, coldly stood up- leaving them sitting there, alone with nothing but unanswered questions and a heart heavy with sorrow.

I still have a spot left for you in my feelings, always will be the one for you, In case you come back one day.

After hours of uninterrupted typing, they finally halted, their hands hovering over the keyboard as they took a moment to gather their thoughts. Pressing the final key—

The soft click of the laptop lid echoing in the now silent room.

[sweet-evie]

Just a Man

Not me thinking of how Satoru blamed himself after he was unsealed...

Content: Established relationship, AFAB!OC, Hurt/Comfort, gojo x fem!oc, Fluff, She/Her pronouns

✨ masterlist ✨

“The fact remains… If that impostor hadn’t caught me off guard… If only I burned Suguru’s body. If only I hadn’t let myself get so distracted… None of this — Yaga, Nanami. This wouldn’t have—”

“No.”

How a single word managed to soothe his roiling emotions was beyond him. He felt the wave of sporadic cursed energy recede just as her hand landed on his shoulder. In front of everyone else, he played off the self-deprecation like it was nothing, but with her, it was pointless to hide his turmoils and his regrets.

“I never wanted to be a god.”

He said it so quietly under his breath, she almost missed it. Had he been anyone else, the statement would have come off sounding ludicrous and egotistical. But coming from Satoru, it was a testament to his pain and of the burden imposed upon him since his birth. A child saddled with the weight of the world, a man who was only ever valued for the power he held. Always the strongest. Always the honored one. Always Satoru Gojo… A sword and a shield, a deterrent that always held darkness at bay. He was always something, but never someone to those around him.

She had uncovered that truth gradually and thoroughly throughout the years. And with each new revelation, a piece of her heart always broke; because time and time again, everyone else always failed to see the thoughtful, compassionate, generous, and sensitive soul lying underneath all the bravado and practiced composure.

To the rest of the world, he was many things but human.

But to her, he was just a man — just another person doing his best with what he had been given, a man worth taking care of.

To her, he would always just be Satoru — the man who gladly vouched for her, saved her, and chose her at every turn. Oh, how she loved him…

“You were never meant to shoulder that burden alone. It’s incredibly unfair.” Their eyes met and she saw her own sadness reflected in his tired gaze. “You could handle all of it, of course you could, but it still doesn’t make it right.”

“Everything in Shibuya would not have happened if—”

“You’re not to blame, Satoru. You never deserved the blame. You do everything for everyone more than you care to acknowledge.”

She moved closer as he immediately opened his arms to let her in. Burrowing into the warmth she missed so much, she embraced him closely and ran her fingers through his hair in comfort. The engagement ring he’d slid onto her finger (for what felt like forever ago) glittered against afternoon light, drawing her gaze.

That’s right… She promised herself to this man — to have and hold him forever, knowing full well that she loved him more than life itself. And now he was all set to put his life on the line for a world that hardly cared whether he lived or died. His victory would mean salvation for all, and his death would doom them into darkness. 

All of that responsibility, and he was still just a man.

==========================================

[Dumped in AO3]

[zombiekilllers]

Roach x Medic! reader

Medic reader is hopeless about furthering her small relations with Roach, until one un mistakeable opportunity arises to grow closer with the quiet soldier.

Word count: 1200

gn!reader x roach !!

Persistent beeping of machinery in the infirmary encapsulated my ears entirely, as I focused on packing up the last of my medical supplies after a long grueling day on the job. 

Being a medic here was never easy work, horrible wounds and people in agony is a sight I had to see and treat on the daily. Sometimes, the turmoil all catches up to me.

 On rare quiet moments where I was the one of the only people left in the infirmary, and nothing but the sounds of beeping filled my ears was when reflection of the day made my psyche weak. 

As I put away the last tool at my station I found myself unable to get up from my small wheeled chair. My vision zoned out on the doorway and that damned beeping was almost deafening as I recalled all of the horrors I had seen just this day. The gruesome wounds, the cries of pain, the feeling of defeat when you know there is nothing left you can do to save a life, even when saving people is your primary job. 

A person entered the doorway, and the figure that was at first unrecognizable in my half unconscious state, became starkly clear as I came to my senses and looked up at the approaching soldier. 

Him. 

Roach. This alias was the only name I knew him by, but that was enough for me. His awfully quiet demeanor was of stark contrast to the rest of his task force he belonged to, the rest of the force following closely behind him while in conversation. 

They always pass through the medical bay on their way back to the barracks at the end of the day, a path in which I welcome with open arms. Even the passing sight of Roach was enough to lift my spirits slightly, though no words are being exchanged between us in this passage, hardly a fleeting moment of eye contact. 

My infatuation with him was a slow growing one, with his small silent acts of kindness towards me everytime I served him in my medical bay making my heart grow fond of him. Consistent muted demeanor was not only something I have never seen in the soldiers I treat, but also something that adds a level of mystery to my mystery man. 

I glanced up to meet eyes with Soap, who was now in front of the task force members and steadily making his way towards the barracks. 

“y/n”

He acknowledged me with a small smile and greeting nod as he passed, a greeting I met with my own affirming nod. 

Roach was now the last in the lineup of passers by, I knew that even the short lasting presence of his would make me forget about my current feeling of deprecation towards my job, and boost my emotions. 

His eyes, which could barely be seen from behind his goggles, met mine for a second, had a small crinkle to them and a certain gleam that would indicate that he was casting a smile in my direction, a gesture that I could feel make my cheeks heat up. 

Such a silly thing for me to feel, I thought to myself as I was once again in the medical bay all alone. Such feelings for a man I rarely see, a man who has not verbally returned the words I exchanged to him, a man whose presence was swallowed in secrecy. 

I pondered as I was returning to my own quarters what I could possibly do to increase my interaction levels with Roach. It would be a bit strange for one of the medics to begin trailing a sergeant without any established reason like a lost dog, and no other form of resolve came to mind. 

An empty bed was what I crawled into with the prospect of Roach still on my mind. I have always taken full acknowledgement to myself that he most likely barely registers me in his mind, but still; tiny glimmers of hope always serge through me everytime he gives me that familiar gleaming stare. 

I thought any attempts I would make towards getting closer to him could be futile. 

Last fleeting thought sin my half awake state consistent of incoherent hopes for some sort of opportunity to get closer to this silent masked man, 

One can only hope. 

                                                                   。      。    。

Four knocks in rapid succession upon my door was what woke me up the next groggy morning. 

Confusion filled my head immediately. People almost never need me or my skill set so desperately they feel they need to come to my quarters, especially so early in the morning. Cracking open the door, the familiar friendly face of Laswell meets me. 

“Oh! Morning Laswell,”

I say rubbing my eyes driving away the last feelings of sleep. Her face appears lenient, but with an underlying appearance of some form of worry, something I have never seen in Laswell before. 

 “Is there something wrong in the medbay?” 

I inquired, not knowing what else she could possibly need from me so desperately. 

“Y/n, your file states that you have had an extensive history as a sniper, and by the sounds of it you were a damn good one at that.” 

My eyes widen in curiosity at such an opening statement. What could have possibly provoked her to dig up my file, let alone read it? It was true my service used to include me being exclusively a recon sniper, but I did not see how such a skill would impact my work as a medic. 

I nod my head at her slowly, Not yet knowing her intentions behind this visit had me approaching with severe caution. 

“Well, call it late notice but we have a task force going on a mission where the skills of a sniper are needed. I asked around and discovered you used to have quite skill set for the job.” 

“What?”

I look at her with unmasked bafflement. Why would I of all people be the first selected for such a high rank sounding mission, as a medic? 

“Your extensive skills as a medic also play a contributing role, they could use one out on the field, you know.” 

I glanced down at the floor, trying to make sense of the situation. Should I even accept? The proposition sounded too daunting for me, especially considering I have not used a gun let alone picked up one for several months now. 

“Why me of all people?” 

I decided to ask. Be it blunt or not, the curiosity of these circumstances were eating away at me. 

Laswell paused in a moment of thought, before smiling in remembrance. 

“One of the members of this force recommended you in particular to be the member joining this mission. Would have never even known you used to be a sniper without them.”

I squint my eyes for her looking for an answer to who could have possibly recommended me into such a specific mission. The more compounding thought that came first was which task force was even being discussed. I tilt my head at her. 

‘Which task force?”

“141.”

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

This is my first attempt at writing a fanfiction ever! Was not pleased with the lack of Roach love.

Should I continue this??

[blessedwithabadomen]

in love with the mess - day nine

summary : Aubrey is going on tour and, for once, she's decided to focus on having as much fun as possible. Oli can be a little shit but he does nothing short of adore Audrey and... well, maybe Noah a little, too. Noah likes the flirting, as long as no one gets too close, emotionally. But what will happen when the three of them take it too far?

content : smut (p in v, dirty talk), angst, drinking, fluff

length : 6.5k

tags (let me know if you want to be tagged!) : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81 @flowery-mess @shilohrosechicken @justeli6 @starvingarsyn @floatinglikeaswan @blacksoul-27 @somebodyels3 @kageyasma @spikeisdaddy @broken0mens

a/n : Here's to hoping this is not as shit as my brain keeps trying to convince me it is. Also apologies to @veronicaphoenix​, maybe do some of the meditation you mentioned in your last comments before reading 😅

•••

day nine

I woke up with a headache, Oli’s arms around me and… a tongue on my cheek? It certainly had me more awake than my alarm did. With utter confusion, I pulled away, only to see Oli licking his lips. When my hand traced my cheek I felt something sticky that definitely wasn’t just his saliva.

“We forgot about the chocolate,” he laughed. “Looks like one of them melted and got stuck to your cheek.”

“And obviously your first idea was to lick it off me.”

“What can I say, I like to get my tongue on you.”

“Fucking hell,” I complained, but he knew I didn’t mean it. I still ended up pushing him off as he tried to reach for my cheek again. “Time to get up, Liverpool’s waiting.”

I didn’t want to look in the mirror. I could feel my swollen eyes, remnants of yesterday’s crying session. But it was no use. As soon as Oli left for his own room, I ventured into the bathroom, assessing the damage and trying to control it as much as possible with make-up. No one needed to see that far into my private life just from the state of my face.

I didn’t allow myself to linger, though. Getting ready, packing my things, shoving my suitcase into the trailer, catching a few more breaths of fresh air before bus call. It would have to do.

Noah was leaning against the wall next to the entrance of the hotel, sunglasses on even in the low light, scrolling his phone, looking bored out of his mind. I’d almost managed to forget last night’s text. The turmoil they’d added to my already existent worries. But it came crashing back now, with a single look at him.

Only, when I approached him, he seemed to pretend nothing at all had happened.

“I’m a bit fragile today,” he groaned, giving me a brief hug and a smile. It bothered me that I couldn’t see his eyes. And that he wasn’t acting differently at all. As if I hadn’t brushed him off yesterday.

“Are we seriously not going to talk about those texts?” I asked, more harshly than I meant to.

Noah looked nothing short of surprised. “Texts?”

“Do you… do you seriously not remember texting me last night? Fucking hell, Noah, how much did you have to drink?”

He sheepishly unlocked his phone again, scrolling through our conversation, the realisation dawning on his face. It quickly turned into what I could only describe as regret. “Fuck, it was… I definitely had some drinks.”

I craved being angry. I craved pushing him away, physically too, yelling at him for the emotional chaos he kept putting me through, but there was no fight left in me that morning. Not after last night, after I’d cried my eyes out to Oli, a resounding headache proof of it.

“You can’t keep doing this,” I sighed, resigned. I put a hand up to my forehead, pressing against the pounding that seemed to increase my the minute. “You can’t say you only want fun and then turn around and do things like these. It’s not fair to me. It’s not fair to any of us.”

Noah was reaching for me. I found myself taking a step back, but his hand still touched my arm and I let him. As I always let him.

“Aubrey…”

He didn’t get to say whatever was on his mind. A shy voice appeared out of nowhere - not really out of nowhere, but my focus had been entirely on the man in front of me - asking if Noah had a moment for a picture. His whole demeanour changed in an instant, my Noah was buried under Noah Sebastian from Bad Omens, happily agreeing but making sure the fan knew he had to leave for the bus soon. They’d snapped a photo or two when I noticed that her eyes were moving back and forth between the two of us.

“I probably shouldn’t ask,” she admitted, rushing her words. “But are you two together? I saw a picture online where you were holding hands and I just wanted to say that you look so cute together and I promise I won’t tell anyone if you tell me!”

Out of all the things I could have possibly expected, this wasn’t one of them. Noah and I? A picture? My brain rattled. Someone must have spotted us in Newcastle when I took him shopping. Where he indeed held my hand. And now there was a photo, possibly all over the internet, causing rumours of all sorts. I looked toward Noah, trying to hide my emerging panic. He knew I needed him to take the lead.

“Aubrey works with Oli actually,” he explained, putting his hand around my shoulders and pulling me close, which felt rather unnecessary in the situation. “We like to hang out. But thank you.”

It felt like a cop-out. He hadn’t outright told her that we weren’t a couple. But he also hadn’t said that we were. Somehow, I wished he had been more adamant into one direction. Either of them. Just to hear him take a clear stand, for once.

The situation was interrupted by someone calling my name now, someone from our crew letting me now it was time to get on the bus within the next five minutes. I gave him a nod. Noah was saying goodbye to the fan, waiting for her to be a certain distance from us, before putting his attention back on me.

“Aubrey…” he started once again.

“I’ll have to get on the bus. I’ll see you when we’re in Liverpool.”

I didn’t leave immediately. At least not until Noah gave me a sad nod and removed his arm from my body. It felt all wrong.

•••

All I wanted to do was call Lia. But knowing her schedule, she was in the middle of work. Plus, there was currently no place on the bus that gave me any sort of privacy and it definitely wasn’t going to be a conversation I needed anyone to overhear. Oli, on the other hand, very much was on the phone, waving everyone away who came close enough to potentially overhear. I ventured into the little lounge at the back of the bus instead. Lee and Mat were, once again hooked to the playstation. I wondered how bands had ever survived before tour busses offered consoles.

“Hey, stranger,” Mat smiled, beckoning me to come in and patting the seat next to him. “Long time no see.”

It was true. On tours we’d been on before, I’d almost become a staple to the group. Most of the time, if only what I thought was by association to Oli, I ended up hanging out with them more than the crew. But this tour had taken me for a toll. Not only had I been spending out with just Oli a lot more, Noah had also appeared in the picture and monopolised the time I usually spend with the rest of the band. I felt a little awkward, now, dropping myself onto the couch next to Mat, but he seemed to pay no mind to it.

I watched as they played, both Mat and Lee attempting to make a little small talk, but both of them also much too invested in winning their round to concentrate much on anything else.

“Fuck that, I’m getting some beer,” Lee announced, getting up and throwing his controller my way.

“Bit early?”

“We’re on tour, Aubrey, time doesn’t mean anything. Now take over for me and kick Mat’s arse, he’s been fucking annoying.”

I didn’t wait to be told twice, motioning for Mat to start another round. We both knew I barely had a chance against him - as much as I enjoyed the occasional game, he had insane amounts of practice on me. The only thing I’d ever beating him in was Mario Kart. I hadn’t let him live that one down yet.

“You’re keeping Oli on his toes, you know?”

I kept myself from turning toward him, questioningly staring at the screen instead, where I desperately tried to keep myself alive.

“Pretty much it’s the other way. I am working for him and he makes sure I don’t forget that.”

Mat chuckled next to me, “He has you running around a lot, hasn’t he? You’re also running around in his mind though.”

“Mat, that’s fucking cheesy,” I replied, so aghast that I looked away from the screen for a second to long. He didn’t waste any time finishing my character off. Putting his hands in the air with a noise of success, I stole the main controller away from him and made quick work of changing the game to Mario Kart.

“Not a lie though,” he laughed, letting me pick my one gaming strength without complaints. “He does care, you know.”

“He can be a fucking dickhead,” I replied, chucking the controller back to him and choosing a character with my own.

I mentally moved the pictures of him holding me and listening to my worries just the night before away. Instead, I forced myself to think about his teasing, about how non-committal he was, about how he never really seemed to speak his mind. Even when I talked to him and Noah at the pub that night, he simply agreed with whatever the other man had suggested and made a joke out of it. I hadn’t forgotten that.

“He’s trying,” Mat sighed. The countdown was on the screen now, briefly capturing our attention as we tried to get the perfect start. “I’m not sure if it’s showing, but he is. And he can’t fucking stop talking about you. The guys and I have considered making you a banned topic when we’re together.”

The blush rose up on my cheeks. I was well aware that many of my waking hours were spent thinking about Oli or Noah or both of them. Somehow, it hadn’t quite crossed my mind that it would be the same for them. The fact that I was occupying his brain even when I wasn’t around left a giddiness in me that I harshly chased away.

“I don’t know if trying is good enough,” I admitted, throwing another shell that hit Mat dead on behind me. “I’m not here to fix him or make him better.”

“You’re already doing that, just by existing.”

I wasn’t sure if I’d ever heard Mat talk like that. I didn’t want to linger on it, instead making quick work of crossing the finishing line with just a minor lead. Mat grumbled something about needing a beer, too, and how he kept getting tricked into playing Mario Kart with him as if he hadn’t willingly participated. He was almost out the door, when he turned around.

“By the way, what the fuck is going on with him and Noah?”

I bit back the smile. “I have no fucking clue.”

It wasn’t even a lie.

•••

Oli was a bundle of energy. We’d successfully checked in and made our way to the venue right next to the hotel, but no one was ready for soundcheck yet, so Oli was bouncing off the walls in between a few interviews, journalists coming and going as I sent him this room and that place to get it all done in time. It included reminded both him and the interviewers of the end of their allotted time when Oli simply wouldn’t stop talking.

“Coffee run?” Oli asked as we finally had a few minutes after the last interview. Bad Omens were busy soundchecking, leaving Bring Me with the later slot.

“Are you insane? The last thing you need is more caffeine.”

“At least get me some chips then. Being near the water makes me hungry.”

“How the fuck did you just change your mind from coffee to chips,” I asked, but I was already gathering my things to leave and figure out where to get what Oli desired.

“Don’t question the genius.”

“Alight, get your genius arse somewhere useful then until I’m back,” I scoffed as I left.

Luckily, my phone directed me quite easily to the nearest chip shop only a few minutes away on the dock. I made the best of the time and finally dialled Lia’s number, praying she’d be at her regularly scheduled break and available.

“What can I do for the number two angel in my life?” she greeted me enthusiastically.

“Only number two?” I tried to joke, but the words almost got caught in my throat. Just hearing her voice and feeling her love through the phone was enough to get me teary-eyed again.

“Oh, Aubrey, talk to me.”

She could always see through me so easily. It was eerie at times, but I’d grown so accustomed to putting on a poker face for so many people of my life that it felt rather freeing that I couldn’t even try to pretend in front of her.

“I’m in love,” it blubbered out of me before I could stop it. I dodged a few people who looked like they were heading to the gig tonight, keeping my head down just in case anyone would somehow recognise me. At least when I was on the verge of crying.

“And that is a bad thing?”

“Yes!” I almost shouted, briefly forgetting about my plan not to draw any attention to myself. “It is horrible. Because I’m in love with two fucking men who both told me they only want some fun.”

I wasn’t sure how long it took to fill her in with the happenings of the past days. Manchester already seemed like a lifetime ago with how much had gone down in the meantime. Lia was as quiet as she could be as the person that she was, which said a lot really, and I appreciated it. I simply needed to get it all out in one go before the nerve left me.

She stayed quiet for a little bit after that and I let her. I had long found the takeaway I’d been heading to, pacing back and forth in front of it, unable to keep still until I heard her judgement and, possibly, her advice.

“Two things,” she finally said. “One: Those boys are lying to you and to themselves because no one who just wants to get their dicks wet behaves like that. However, you can’t force them into anything they won’t admit to themselves. And unfortunately I have no way of telling if they’ll get a grip. I can offer to bash their heads in if they don’t though.” A choked chuckle erupted from my throat. “Two: You need to think about how much you can take and you need to be selfish. If your arrangement works for you, go do them as much as you like and enjoy it. But you’re hurting right now because you’re not getting what you need and what you deserve. And you’ve been down that road before. Don’t let yourself be destroyed just to be what you think someone else wants you to be. You’re worth so much more than that.”

“Lia, I…”

“Don’t answer any of that right now. Just think it over. I love you, okay? I need to get back to work now, but text or call me any time. I’m just a train ride away, always.”

I ended up with so many tears streaming down my face, the poor cashier at the chip shop barely understood my order.

•••

Noah was avoiding me, plain and simple. It was even that I’d actively attempted to speak to him again - after our short talk this morning and Lia’s reassurance, it felt justified to expect him to come to me if he had anything to say. However, it remained painfully obvious that he would turn the other way if he saw me in the hallway, move to a different room if I entered and absolutely refuse to make eye contact through it all. It was starting to grind my gears.

I decided to move back to Oli’s dressing room, spending the time before the show would start with him. At least he wasn’t running from me. He was sitting in the farthest corner of the room, facing the door, and yet, as soon as he saw me, he snapped his laptop shut so quickly I feared it was going to break.

“Secret mission?” I asked, brows raised, but never stopped approaching him. He made quick work of moving his stuff away from the couch so I could drop down next to him.

“You know it. Top secret. Highly confidential. Almost as well-guarded as our next album.”

“But hopefully not taking as long to reveal itself, whatever it is.”

“You’re a rude one, you know that?” Oli asked, but his tone was playful and his hand was messing with my hair. I swatted him away immediately. “Rude and annoyed. What’s up with you?”

I let out a massive sigh, much too big for my ribcage, and I felt the sting when I inhaled. One more look at the screen of my phone, but Noah still hadn’t given me any sign of life.

“Looking for jobs and places to stay again?” Oli guessed, incorrectly, but I didn’t want to tell him the truth anyway. The situation between the three of us was messed up enough, I didn’t need to come crying to him because of something Noah had or hadn’t done when he himself was involved with both of us.

“I would be okay with my few savings if it was just for the job search going badly, but now… A year ago, a would have just forced Lia to let me stay with her but she’s married and all honeymoon-ed up still and I’m definitely not bulldozing my way into that.”

I could tell he was thinking about saying something, an unhelpful comment, a plea for me to reconsider moving in with Lia temporarily, an empty phrase like it will work out, but I didn’t want or need any of it.

“Whatever. I’m done with the bad mood. You have a show to play and tomorrow we’ll be in Sheffield and we should concentrate on that.”

Oli grabbed my chin in his hand, dragging me toward him until he could place a kiss on my lips, his mouth so much softer than his fingers as they were digging into my skin. I let him, the way I let him do anything to me, turning into nothing but a soft body to do with as he pleased. It was over much too soon and I craved more, but I knew the time until he had to be on stage was ticking.

“Wanna do something fun?” he teased, smiling so brightly I could see the sharp edges of his vampire teeth peeking out.

“That sounds suspicious as hell, Oli.”

He leaned over toward the make-up table, grabbing a pencil I couldn’t quite see properly yet, before chucking it at me. Eyeliner. At least not the liquid type, but soft and waxy. I uncapped it and twisted a bit of it upward.

“Bet you’ve always wanted to do my make-up.”

The thing was - I did. I wasn’t particularly good at it, but I’d watched Oli paint his face, have MUAs do their magic, have him ask his bandmates for help if he deliberately went for a more smudged and untidy look. I’d always loved the way some black around his eyes made him look just that tiny bit more feminine, impossibly long lashes and gorgeous irises. I wasn’t sure how much of that he knew, but it was absolutely raising my spirits.

“Alright. Chair, now.”

Oli chuckled but didn’t resist, moving over to the chair in front of the make-up table and mirror. I surveyed what was available to me but ended up sticking with the eyeliner he had handed to me. It seemed like the safest option. Especially because I’d never put make up on anyone but myself.

I ordered him to close his eyes, deciding to start with his upper lid, and leaned down, but the position was hell on my back and the angle was weird. I tried to scoot another chair close, but then the distance was too large and my arm wouldn’t hold steady enough.

“Right, enough of that, c’mere.”

With a steady grasp, he held onto my hips, pulling me into his lap so I was straddling him. He looked awfully smug about it, too.

“I spend a lot of fucking time in your lap lately,” I mused, but I wasn’t really complaining. We both knew as much. My hands rested on his chest, the tip of the eyeliner almost threatening to touch his shirt and ruin it with black, waiting for him to resume his former position and close his eyes.

“Maybe it’s where you belong,” he whispered, pulling me closer, dragging his lips over the side of my neck, a feeling so soft and honest that I couldn’t tell him to stop just yet. His tongue was on my pulse point. I almost expected a bite to follow, something more harsh, him turning the delicate moment around, but it never came.

Instead, when he leaned back, mustering me but still not allowing me to continue trying to get some colour on his face, he said, “You should wear lipstick more often.”

My hand inadvertently moved to my lips, even though I knew they were bare. The only make up I was wearing had been meant to hide my cried out eyes from the night before, although some of it had shifted when the tears had returned on my call to Lia, but Oli never mentioned it and I silently thanked him for it.

“‘specially the type that stains,” he added.

I raised my eyebrows at him. “The type that stains?”

“Yeah. Not like the one two nights ago. Watched you kiss Noah and he didn’t even get a little bit of red on him.”

“Is that what you want? Lipstick stains?” I couldn’t stop myself from smiling at the thought. “All over you and Noah? Because I can make that happen.”

“Tomorrow,” he decided. “When I’m done with the social rounds back home and Drop Dead. I’m taking you and Noah out for dinner.”

I ignored the way my body craved to stiffen at the idea of meeting Noah. How I was still waiting for him to approach me, explain himself, apologise. We’d figure it out, in time. Surely. So, instead of letting my annoyance at him take over, I nodded at Oli.

“Tomorrow. Now hold the fuck still and let me do my work or you’ll end up with a fake moustache on your face after all.”

•••

I had just about finished drying my hair and pulling a ridiculously oversized shirt over my head after a shower that was so hot it probably would have left scorch marks on the devil, when a knock sounded on my door. The temptation to ignore it was high - all I really wanted was to fall into bed and ignore the world until my alarm went. But the knocking, once again, persisted, irregular noises that suggested whoever was in the corridor wouldn’t just leave.

Noah was drunk. I knew it immediately. It wasn’t the bottle of Hennessey in his hand or the smell of alcohol on his breath when he greeted me. It wasn’t even the way he leaned against the doorframe, not suave as he usually was, but clinging on for support. It was in his eyes.

“Fuck, Noah, what are you doing?”

“Lemme in, please?” His puppy dog eyes only managed to look like a grimace. “I just want to apologise. Really.”

He wasn’t completely gone and I thanked whoever was responsible for that because the last thing I needed was trying to maneuvre his tall ass into bed and holding his hair while he puked, but the drink had done enough to make him look at me differently, to hold himself with a different kind of effort. Maybe had done enough to make him be honest in a way he was unable to otherwise.

An older couple passed behind him, throwing me a questioning and potentially judgemental look at the way he swayed in my doorway, so I relented and pulled him in. No need for a public scene. Or people taking photos.

“Alright,” I decided, settling down on the ledge of my bed and pointing toward the armchair in the corner. “Sit and explain, then.”

I grabbed the bottle as he passed me, surprisingly not encountering any resistance or protest, and took a swing for good measure. Whatever he had to tell me, the alcohol would hopefully lessen the impact just a little.

Noah sat, as instructed, and while he was looking at me in theory, his eyes didn't meet mine at all. Instead, they hastily flicked between several places on my body, anything that wasn't my face.

“Aubrey, I realise that over the past few days my… my actions haven't been aligning with my words and, uh, you don't deserve to have me cause disarray in terms of your emotions-”

“Did you write that down and learn it by heart?” The way his stare awkwardly redirected to the floor only seemed to confirm my suspicions. “Fucking hell Noah, I don't need a fancy ass speech! I just want to know what the fuck is going on and I need you to stop being so fucking sweet to me when all you're willing to do is fuck me.”

I couldn't tell when I had gotten up but by the time I realised I was already pacing the floor. Noah got up, seemingly on his way to me, but stopped dead in his tracks.

“Fuck, dizzy,” he mumbled unhappily. Still, he reached out, stopping my movements with a single hand on my arm. “I'm sorry, Aubrey. I'll… I'll do better, I swear. I just can't stay away from you.”

“You don't need to stay away from me. I don't want you to,” I signed, grabbing onto his hips as he swayed a little. “You need to lie down, Noah.”

I had meant his own bed, in his own room, far away from me, leaving whichever bandmate he was rooming with that night to take care of him for the night. But I couldn't. I simply couldn't. Not with the way he was looking at me, allowing me to see so much hurt and confusion and need for something I couldn't quite comprehend yet. So I lead him to my own bed instead, once again helping him get undressed down to his underwear and tucked him under my blanket.

I wanted to be mad at him so badly and I knew he'd deserve it too. But my heart ached when I looked at him, so obviously struggling with his own feelings, wanting to do everything right and failing again and again. I didn't know if I would ever get what I wanted and needed from him. Lia's words echoed in my brain. But as much as it hurt, at least for the remainder of this tour, I knew I wouldn't manage to let go of him.

“Aubrey.”

My name tasted so sweet falling from his lips. Before I gave rationality a chance to take over, I lied down next to him, far enough away not to be touching, close enough to see every breath move his chest, every flutter of his eyelashes. His eyes were closing on their own accord. How long had he been drinking? The bottle wasn't all that empty but he could have started with something else. I wondered what had come first - the first sip or the overthinking. I was sure he had done plenty of the latter. How long he had sat somewhere drowning his sorrows or pleading the bottle for more courage?

“You deserve so much more than me,” Noah mumbled, pulling me out of my thoughts. I’d been sure he had fallen asleep already, but now, for a moment, his eyes were opening again, just enough to finally look at me, really look at me. His hand reached for mine, holding it so tenderly that I wanted to scream. That I didn’t care about what I deserved or what was good for me or whatever other bullshit he had to say, that I wanted him despite it all, because of it all.

I didn’t have to decide what to reply. Noah’s breathing had steadied, eyelids shut again, and from the slightest twitch his hand gave, I knew he had fallen asleep. Yet I felt more awake than ever, the sound of my beating heart the only thing filling the room.

•••

It was impossible to tell how much time had passed when I woke up, especially after having been so sure I wouldn’t find any rest at all that night. No light came in from behind the curtains, so I figured it was still night. Although with how gloomy this January was proving to be, that actually wasn’t much of a sign. The room next to mine, Oli’s room, was still silent as well. Hopefully he was getting some decent sleep. It wasn’t a secret that he struggled with that more often than not.

With the darkness and silence still enveloping the room, I questioned what had woken me up at all. The answer came rather quickly.

I had turned away from Noah in my sleep, but he had apparently disagreed with the distance it had cause between us because he had shuffled closer and wrapped an arm around me, keeping me safe and secure in his embrace. And then he moved, just the tiniest bit, and all I could possibly think about was the way I suddenly noticed his hard-on pressing against me.

My breath was refusing to escape my lungs. The sensation was so new, so intimate, so intense, despite everything we’d done before. When he moved again, a tiny noise leaving his mouth, I knew he was awake. Awake and trying so hard to keep himself in check. Which was the last thing I wanted. I could feel him twitch, could feel his slightly laboured breathing hitting the back of my neck, his strong chest molding against my back.

“Noah,” I whispered, grabbing his hand as it was pressed slightly against my belly. He stiffened immediately, as if caught out, and now it was him holding his breath.

But I wanted it. I wanted him. This simple situation had erased every ounce of resolution about potentially staying away from him. It was nothing short of impossible, all of a sudden. My body needed him in ways I’d rarely experienced, my mind spinning with the possibilities. There was nothing left in me that could refuse him.

“Are you still drunk?”

“I’m sober enough to know what I’m doing,” he answered, voice rough and low and sending tingles down my spine.

It was all I needed to hear. Pulling his hand higher, I put it over my breasts, allowing him to touch, allowing him to do what he pleased with me. Noah immediately responded by pushing his cock against my arse with force, now free of constraints, and I let out a pitiful moan. Both of us were only in our underwear, my shirt having ridden up to my waist in my sleep, and it still wasn’t anywhere near being close enough. He was growing harder with every movement, grinding against my body, kneading my breasts. I was burning with desire. I didn’t care about slow, or teasing, or romantic.

I led his hand down my body, pushing it between my legs so he could feel my growing arousal, the way I was starting to soak through my panties. It was almost embarrassing how quickly I got wet with him or Oli around, but I simply couldn’t help it. My body craved them with an intensity that had me ready to go in a heartbeat.

One of Noah’s legs slotted between mine to spread my thighs further as his fingers slipped under the waistband of my underwear. He wasted no time finding my clit, just for a moment, before moving lower, pushing a finger inside easily.

“Fucking hell, Aubrey, you’re killing me.”

I whined loudly, already needing more as I tried to grind down on his finger to get that bit more friction. With every movement, every noise I made, I could feel his cock push against me. I wasn’t the only impatient one.

“Please tell me you have a condom on you,” I groaned, still moving with him, but needing so much more.

Noah didn’t answer, but he took his hand away, making me gasp at the loss, and turned around to where I presumed he had dropped his jeans on the floor next to the bed. I sat up, just for a second, to remove my shirt. I wanted as much skin contact as humanly possible, craving to feel him everywhere on my body, and the fabric had been an unwelcomed barrier. In a quick move, I also slipped my panties down my legs and discarded them, hoping he’d follow suit.

Turning my head toward him, I watched as he indeed removed his underwear and put on a condom with a moan.

“I went for extra lube,” he chuckled, “but I don’t really think you need it.”

Then Noah was back on the bed, resuming the position we’d been in before and I almost cried when I felt his dick press against me, between my legs, no clothing left between us. He lifted my leg again, his cock moving up and down my pussy in teasing motions.

“Fuck, please, just…” A moan interruped me when his tip bumped against my clit.

“Just what, angel?

“Fuck me, Noah.”

It was all it took. With his arm wrapped around me once more to hold me steady, Noah pushed in, slowly, achingly slowly, and I felt like I was going to fall apart even before he was in all the way. It was simply so good, so perfect, as if he’d been meant to fuck me all along, that nothing else in the world seemed to matter anymore but his body against mine, moving inside of me.

His thrusts weren’t speeding up. I couldn’t tell if he was lost in the enjoyment of the feeling or if he had set out to tease me to the point of begging. I wasn’t above it. I would plead him any day, if that was what he wanted.

“Noah,” I whined, trying to grind down on him, but the position left me at a disadvantage while his arm held me in place. He was pressing hot kisses to the back of my neck now, finding all my sensitive spots, moving behind my ear and down to the top of my spine. “Please, I can take it, I promise.”

He didn’t get any quicker, but every time he pushed into me now, it seemed to be with a little more force. My hands didn’t know what to do or where to go. One kept grabbing at his own hand splayed on my lower stomach, the other kept fisting the sheets. His kisses turned into bites, teeth tormenting the skin on my neck and I hoped it would leave a mark.

When Noah spoke again, his mouth was right next to my ear, his breath impossibly warm. “Yeah? Think you can? Want me to fuck you hard and fast? So you’ll feel me tomorrow? Gonna think of me every time you move cause I ruined your gorgeous pussy.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” I chanted, my arousal climbing and climbing into the impossibly. “Fuck me, ruin me, anything you like.”

Suddenly, Noah pushed me on my front, still buried deep inside me as he grabbed my hips but kept me in a lying position, a hand pressed to my shoulder blades. And when he finally kept his word and made my wishes come true, it was beyond what I could have expected. He was relentlessly pounding into me, moving with a speed and strength I hadn’t experienced with him yet. I took it all, willingly and happily, letting him fuck me into the mattress until I felt utterly brainless.

The room, so utterly quiet just shortly before, was filled with the sounds of hit skin hitting mine, my moans rising higher and higher with every thrust, and his low groans as he chased his own high. My face was pressed into the pillows, but it still did little to muffle my voice.

I was so close to coming undone, his dick hitting all the right spots, his hand still pressing me down into the bed, it was like I could taste the end.

“Touch yourself, I want to feel you come,” Noah ordered. How was I ever going to refuse? I shuffled just enough to get my hand between my body and the mattress and as soon as I touched my clit, I knew it wasn’t going to take much. “Fucking gorgeous. Taking me so well, like you were made for me. You look so fucking good with my cock inside you.”

When I came, it took me with such force that I felt dizzy, a ringing in my ears briefly quietening everything around me, to the point where I had no idea how loud I was or if I was even still making noises at all. Noah followed in perfect alignment, shuddering thrusts as he came into the condom and I craved so much for the barrier to be gone, to feel it all, to have it inside of me. He was loud, louder than expected, then his movements faltered. When he pulled out, I made a single noise of complaint, even though I already felt sore.

I stayed on my front, Noah somewhere beside me, our breathing slowly settling down again. I felt cold and exhausted, the sweat on my skin turning uncomfortable. Then I felt his hands on me, all assertiveness gone, simply soft and careful movements to turn me on my side toward him. His lips met mine in an unhurried kiss, sweet and slow. I wanted to stay in this moment forever. And when he pulled away, keeping me in his embrace and looking at me with those brown doe eyes that I’d come to adore so much, I knew that there was no way back to me. I’d fallen for Noah Sebastian, hard and fast, and all I wanted was to make him mine.

[poisonlove]

Tears | v.c

The school shooting creates a turmoil of chaos around me. The gunshots echo through the hallways, and fear tightens my heart as I desperately search for Vada's gaze.

The crowd of fleeing students looks like a wall of confusion, yet my only goal is to catch a glimpse of those familiar eyes that have always comforted me. Images of our laughter, tender moments, our entire history together, crowd my mind. That special connection I have with Vada is my anchor in this storm of terror. No matter how much panic trembles my hands or how furiously my heart beats in my chest, I know that finding Vada is my top priority.

"Vada... where are you?" I mutter to myself.

The tension in the air feels almost tangible as I frantically search for Vada amidst the surrounding chaos. Each passing second feels like an eternity, as gunshots and screams fill the hallways. The reality of what's happening feels almost surreal, as if I'm trapped in a terrible dream.

Determined to find Vada, I ignore the instinct to hide and move with purpose through the chaos around me. The gunshots ring out like thunder in my ears, but my concern for Vada overrides any fear I may feel. Every step brings me closer to my goal: finding her, making sure she's safe, and holding her in my arms. I find a relatively quiet corner behind a wall and, while remaining vigilant, I pull out my phone. My mind is solely focused on Vada as I type with trembling fingers:

"Vada, I'm looking for you. Stay safe. As soon as I find an opportunity, I'll come to you. I love you."

After sending the message, I put my phone away gently and continue my frantic search. Every second counts, and the worry for Vada overrides any fear that may be present. Every step, every turn, brings me closer to her. The image of her smile, shared moments, and promises made guide me through the nightmare surrounding us. The voices screaming and the sound of gunshots become background noise as I search only for Vada's face. Our love is the light guiding me through the darkness and giving me the strength to overcome any obstacle.

Suddenly, an eerie silence falls over the area, breaking the deafening noise of the gunshots. Every instinct in me goes on alert, my senses waiting to comprehend what's happening. The silence is almost more frightening than the sounds that preceded it, as I can't help but wonder what has changed. I look around suspiciously, seeking signs of movement or explanations. My heart still races, adrenaline continues to course through my veins as I try to understand if the nightmare is truly over or if it's just a momentary respite before the violence resumes.

And then, looking beyond the still-agitated crowd, I see Vada. My breath catches for a moment, almost in disbelief that she's there, alive and safe. All my fears seem to vanish in an instant, replaced by immense gratitude and joy.

—T/n!— she exclaims, her eyes expressing a mix of surprise and happiness.

—Vada!— I respond with a trembling voice, tears welling up in my eyes. Without a second thought, I wrap my arms around Vada's waist, lifting her in an embrace filled with passion and emotion. I continue to hold Vada in my arms, but then I feel her laughter and gradually lower her back to the ground. Our gazes lock once again, but then I notice the presence of the blonde girl standing near us.

—T/n, this is Mia. She was with me while I was trying to find a safe place.— Vada says with a half-smile.

—Hi, Mia. Thank you for taking care of Vada.— I say, looking at the girl with gratitude.

Mia nods with a faint smile, but the tension remains palpable in the air.

— I'm so glad you're safe, T/n — Vada says with a strained smile, though her eyes still reflect the agitation of the situation.

— I am too, Vada. I didn't know what I'd do without you. — I mutter, looking at Vada with shining eyes.

Mia watches the scene in silence, her eyes carefully scrutinizing the bond between T/n and Vada.

— Perhaps we should try to find a way out of here now that the gunshots have stopped. — Mia suggests timidly.

Vada nods, but T/n's attention is still focused on Vada. I can't help but feel relieved to see the person I love safe, but I know there are still many uncertainties to face. With Mia by their side and Tara next to T/n, they know they'll have to face the challenges that await them outside those walls together.

(...)

Vada Pov's

The days following that terrible school shooting were truly the worst. Despite trying to face together what had happened, the shadow of terror and anxiety seemed to linger around us. But sometimes, when the wounds are too deep, we grasp onto the wrong paths to cope with the pain.

One of those paths was taken by me, along with Mia.

It was a world I had never explored before, yet it seemed to offer a way to escape the haunting memories and constant pain. Drugs, a way to forget, even if only for a brief moment, had become a sort of refuge for me. In the days that followed, I often found myself spending time with Mia, in a world of substances that offered me a false sense of calm. While trying to forget the moments of fear and terror that had marked that shooting, I ended up creating a new dependency that would only make things worse.

During a class, as anxiety began to creep in, I found myself absentmindedly chewing on a pen. Without realizing it, the pen broke, and ink spilled on me. It was as if everything I touched ended up going wrong. I grabbed my phone and sent a message to T/n.

" I'm not feeling very well "

I wrote, trying to hide how bad I truly felt.

When I received her reply, I felt a mixture of fear and relief. Fear because I didn't want her to see me in this state, and relief because I knew I could confide in her.

" t/n: I'm worried. Where are you? Can I come to you? "

Tears mixed with ink on my face as I wrote the response. I felt dizzy as I descended the stairs, still under the influence of the drug. I stopped to wipe the ink-filled mouth with my hand, laughing to myself for whatever reason. The effect of the drug coursed through my body, making me feel relaxed and happy, as if nothing could touch me.

I lay down on the stairs, enjoying that moment of release. Then, suddenly, I felt the presence of T/n, my girlfriend. I looked at her with a relaxed smile, trying not to let on how much I was affected.

— Hey, T/n... — I said, smiling.

— Vada, what's happening? Why are you acting like this? — T/n looked at me with concerned eyes.

— Oh, it's nothing, don't worry. I'm fine. — I shrugged nonchalantly.

— You don't look fine at all, you look... out of it. — T/n raised an eyebrow.

— No, no, I'm just relaxing a bit. Want some of what I took? It'll make you feel amazing. — I chuckled.

— Vada, don't joke about these things. You know how much I worry about you. — T/n said with worry.

— Oh, really? Doesn't seem like it, otherwise you wouldn't have left me in this state. — I raised an eyebrow with confusion.

— I don't want to see you like this, Vada. This isn't you. — T/n's annoyance was evident.

— Oh, so now you know who I am? Interesting. — I tried to get up from the stairs.

— Don't try to make me feel guilty. I just want to understand what's happening to you. — T/n said, arms crossed.

— It's none of your business, T/n. I can do whatever I want. — I retorted, getting irritated.

— No, you can't. Not when it comes to ruining your life with these things. — T/n replied authoritatively.

— So now you're playing the good girl who cares. I don't need your morality. — I was starting to get angry.

— I don't want to see you destroy yourself. — T/n's voice lowered as she looked down at the floor.

— I'm not doing that, okay? Just... leave me alone. — I responded bitterly.

— I can't do that, Vada. I love you. — T/n's voice trembled as she spoke.

— Cut it out with the sweet words. I don't need them. — I rolled my eyes irritably.

— Vada, I don't know what's happening to you, but I just want you to be safe. — T/n's eyes looked at me with a hint of hurt.

— And what do you want me to do? Promise you I'll stop? It won't work, so do yourself a favor and go away. — I raised my voice.

— I don't know how to help you if you don't tell me what's going on. — T/n's eyes held a touch of sadness.

— I don't need your help, okay? I can handle myself. — I replied defiantly.

— I'm sorry to see you like this, Vada. — My girlfriend's voice slowly broke.

After those words, T/n walked away, leaving me alone on the stairs. I felt a whirlwind of emotions churn inside me as I tried to deal with the situation I had found myself in.

***

I woke up in my room, still dazed by the events of the past few hours. My head was pounding, and my thoughts seemed wrapped in a dense fog. My heart was pounding hard in my chest, as if it wanted to escape from an invisible prison. I tried to piece together the fragments of what had happened, but everything seemed confusing and blurry. Shortly after, my mother Patricia entered the room with a worried look. Her gaze landed on me, and a crease of concern formed on her forehead.

— How are you feeling? I've been so worried about you. — She looked at me with concern.

I forced a smile, even though my head was a mess of emotions. — I'm fine, Mom. Just a little dizzy. —

— Thank goodness. — My mother sighed in relief. — Nick was really kind to bring you home. But... T/n? You haven't been seeing each other much lately. — She asked curiously.

The mention of T/n brought a knot of sadness to my chest. I remembered the argument from a few hours ago and lowered my gaze, trying to ignore those turbulent feelings that were coursing through me.

— Well, yeah, you know how it is, busy with commitments and all. — I tried to come up with a believable excuse.

— Vada, you two have been inseparable for so long. It's just strange to see you so distant. —

— Things change, I guess. — I affirmed.

— If there's something you want to share, you know you can talk to me, right? — My mother's comforting squeeze on my shoulder made me smile.

— Of course, Mom. But I assure you, it's just a phase. —

I couldn't bear the idea of worrying my mother with my issues as well. I tried to set aside the negative thoughts and focus on the present.

— Alright, but don't forget that I love you and I'm here for you. — My mother sighed.

— I know, Mom. Thanks. — I nodded.

Patricia smiled affectionately at me and left the room. I felt a mix of emotions inside me, but I tried to stay focused on how to deal with the current moment. It was difficult to ignore the absence of T/n, but I didn't want to burden others with my problems.

I lay down on the bed, trying to push away the negative thoughts and concentrate on what I could do to regain a sense of normalcy. It was a challenge, but I knew I had to seek a solution rather than letting myself be dragged into despair. As I continued to try and relax, I felt my phone vibrate on the desk. With a bit of hesitation, I picked up the device and saw that there was a message from Mia. An unconscious smile formed on my face, as if her virtual presence could bring a little light to the dark moments.

I opened the message with anticipation and hope, curious about what Mia had to say.

"Hi Vada, how are you today? I've been thinking about you and wanted to let you know that I'm here if you need to talk. You're not alone in this struggle."

My smile widened as I read Mia's caring words. It was incredible how she always seemed to understand when I needed a bit of comfort.

(...)

T/N Pov's

I found myself in Vada's room, unable to bear the fact that I had argued with my girlfriend. I felt a tangle of emotions inside me and a need to do something to mend the situation. Vada's mother had opened the door and looked at me in surprise at my sudden presence.

— Oh, T/n, I didn't expect to see you here. — She smiled at Patricia.

— Hi, Mrs. Yeah, I'm sorry if I came unexpectedly... — I murmured weakly.

— Don't worry, you're always welcome here. I know Vada values your relationship. — My mother-in-law gave me a hug.

— Thanks. I really need to talk to her. — I mumbled, returning the hug gently.

— Vada is out with Nick, but she shouldn't be long. Do you want to wait for her in her room? — She asked gently.

— Yes, thank you. I'll wait here. — I nodded.

— Alright, if you need anything, let me know. — She said with a smile on her lips.

I felt a bit uncomfortable with the situation, but I was determined to sort things out with Vada. I knew we had argued and things were tense, but I couldn't bear the idea of leaving things like this.

I waited in Vada's room, trying to prepare the right words to address the conversation I knew would be difficult. I needed to make her understand how sorry I was and how much I cared about her. No matter how long it took, I was willing to show her that I would be there for her, regardless of the challenges we would face.

After hours of waiting...

Vada entered the room, and her sharp response hit me like a punch to the stomach. — What are you doing here? — Her words made me feel like I had no right to be there, concerned for her. But the lipstick mark on her neck struck me even more, and my heart began to beat faster.

— Vada, what's this? — Her red and swollen eyes looked at me with a mix of discomfort and distance. It was evident that something deeply painful was happening within her.

— It's your handiwork, remember? — Vada replied in a distant voice.

Vada tried to stammer some excuse, but I couldn't focus on what she was saying. I had seen the lipstick mark on her neck, and I knew it wasn't from me. However, her confused expression seemed to indicate that she didn't even know what had happened.

Unable to hold back the tears, I moved closer to Vada, placing my hands around the collar of her shirt. My heart was pounding hard in my chest, and my voice trembled as I saw Vada's collar. The visible hickeys, they were there, and my world crumbled before my eyes.

— You... you couldn't... — Tears began to stream down my cheeks as I tried to face the reality of what was happening.

Vada had betrayed me.

Vada tried to say something, but her words seemed distant and incomprehensible. Anger and pain mixed within me, and I didn't know what to do or say. My mind was a storm of emotions, and I felt as if my heart had been shattered into a thousand pieces. In that moment, I needed answers and clarity, but all I had in front of me was a confusion that seemed endless.

— Vada, what the hell is happening? What are those hickies on your neck? — I demanded.

Vada avoided my gaze, her expression growing more embarrassed and guilty. My stomach twisted as tension built between us.

— Vada, answer me. I have the right to know what's happening. — I asked with a broken voice.

Vada hesitated, avoiding my gaze.

— Vada, answer! — I raised my voice. — What did you do? Did you cheat on me? — I asked, feeling a searing pain.

Vada seemed to struggle — Yes, I cheated on you. — She whispered timidly.

I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. The confirmation of my fears sent me reeling emotionally. I needed to know more, I needed to understand the extent of what had happened.

— With who? Who did you do this with? — I tried to hold back tears.

Vada lowered her gaze, looking at the floor. It was clear that the words were coming out of her with difficulty.

— Answer, Vada. With who? — I asked again.

— Answer, Vada. — I repeated, more forcefully.

— With Mia. — She whispered.

Tears welled up in my eyes. I felt like the world had crumbled around me. — It was just a kiss, right? A mistake? — I asked with a broken voice.

Vada didn't immediately respond. The silence that followed was unbearable until finally Vada looked up.

— No, it wasn't just a kiss. — She muttered softly, looking at me with teary eyes.

I felt like the whole world had collapsed around me. Vada's words had hurt me deeply, and her reaction to my anger left me speechless. Anger and frustration were reaching their peak.

— You know what, T/n? — Vada yelled — I would never have cheated on you if you weren't such a terrible girlfriend. — She muttered, looking at me with anger.

Her words echoed in my head, and without thinking, I reacted instinctively. My hand rose, and my skin made contact with her cheek in a slap that seemed to summon all the pain I had felt. Tears streamed down my cheeks as emotion overwhelmed me.

Vada held her cheek, her eyes red from anger and shock. The silence became heavy, broken only by the sound of our labored breaths.

— You're right. — My voice broke again as I shook my head several times.

My words came out with difficulty, almost whispered. I felt a jumble of emotions within me, from pain to anger, from sadness to acceptance. It was as if I had finally acknowledged the harsh reality of what was happening between us.

— It's over between us. — I mumbled weakly.

The words came out with a tone of finality that surprised me. I felt like I had taken an important step, but at the same time, the void opening up inside me was difficult to bear.

I stepped away from Vada, trying to hold back tears as I left her room. It was a situation I had never wanted to face, but now there was no way out. I needed time for myself, to heal from the deep wounds that discovery had caused.

I kept walking, with a broken heart and the weight of those words echoing in every corner of my mind.

[jessamine-rose]

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ  Heartbeat ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Back in June, I said it was unlikely that 1) I’d play WHB or 2) put myself through the mental turmoil of writing smut again. Fast forward to Day 3 of the game and I was so, so wrong ;-;

So far, I’m rlly into Leviathan and Sitri, and the latter instantly inspired me to write for him on Day 1. I hope you all suffer from thirst enjoy reading this spontaneous fic (*^ω^*)

Note: Sub! Sitri, riding, edging, orgasm denial, emotional sex, mention of Switch! Sitri x Switch! Reader, 1-21 spoilers, MINORS DNI

♡ 1k words under the cut ♡

As much as you adore Sitri, he has one flaw which frustrates you to no end.

“Solomon—ah!”

The movement of your hips ceases, prompting a startled cry from the devil beneath you. The sound is coupled with the sensation of cold fingertips pressing into your waist.

He’s still inside you.

As much as you’d like to continue, you still your body and examine your lover’s face. He is a beautiful mess—pale blue hair fanned out over the pillow, flushed cheeks, kiss-swollen lips, magenta eyes glossy and half-lidded.

“You.” His voice is quiet, punctuated by ragged breaths. “Why…”

His grip on your waist tightens, paired with a desperate buck of his hips, but you slap his hand away. Irresistible as he is, you can tell that his intimacy isn’t directed at you.

“Sitri.” You click your tongue, eyes narrowed. “What did I tell you?”

He meets your gaze, confusion clouding over those pretty pink orbs. “Could you please elaborate?”

For a devil, he can be quite thoughtless.

You put your hand under his chin, tilting his face upwards. The words that leave your mouth are cold, sharp, perfectly clear.

“You called me Solomon again.”

At least Sitri understands the gravity of his mistake. His expression goes from needy to mournful, apologetic, docile. Engulfed in your shadow, it is a delicious sight.

And to think that a few hours ago, he was the one looming over your trembling body. In that moment, his normally placid expression had given way to an excited smirk.

But it’s your turn now.

“I apologize, Descendant of—”

Your hand wraps around his wrist. It incurs a soft gasp this time—from surprise or pain? His arm still bears the marks of Satan’s bites; his blood had made such brilliant weapons. Your thumb ghosts over the wounds before pressing down on his pulse point.

…You think you are starting to understand his kink. There is a spike in his heartbeat, the calm rhythm turned erratic by your touch.

“Wrong again,” you tell him. Your voice takes on a low, impatient tone. “It’s ______, remember? That’s what I told you to call me when we first met, when I promised to save Hell, when I came to your room earlier. But you keep forgetting…”

A sigh escapes your lips. Your hand releases his wrist and trails up his chest. Tracing his love bites, caressing his cheek, stroking his hair.

He makes a satisfied noise and closes his eyes. Silky blue strands yield to your touch.

Was he ever like this with your ancestor? Is that all he sees in you?

“Now,” you whisper. Your hand moves to the side of his head and finds your target. “Why don’t we try again?”

His eyes fly open, painted with shock this time. “Wait, that—!”

Your fingertips trace the curve of his horn. The action elicits a loud moan from Sitri, shaky hands returning to your waist.

He gives you a pleading look. “S-Stop. Please, it feels…”

“Go on.” Your thumb rubs the base of his horn, ruffling his hair. The ministrations don’t stop there—at the same time, you resume rocking your hips. “Say my name.”

“I…” Just like that, he becomes putty in your hands. His hips shift beneath you, out of sync with your movements, hopelessly futile in relieving his erection. “Ah…______!”

He repeats your name, louder this time. It sounds different from how his fellow devils or even Minhyeok address you, spoken with more intention. Desire. Adoration.

It sounds like a prayer in his voice.

You let go of his horn, smiling. “That’s more like it.”

“______.” He looks up, taking deep breaths to compose himself. One hand leaves your waist and seizes your wrist. “I can hear it, you know?”

You pause, glancing at his hand. His grip is stronger yet, to some extent, delicate as to avoid bruising your skin.

“My heartbeat?”

“It sounds different,” he confesses. He closes his eyes, focusing on the sensation. “You smell like him, act like him, you even talk like him at times. But this—”

His thumb finds your pulse and applies pressure. When he opens his eyes, they are shining with unshed tears and your captivated reflection.

“All yours,” he whispers. A dazed smile adorns his face as he kisses the back of your hand. “It’s the most beautiful rhythm I’ve ever heard. They’ll never—I won’t allow this melody to stop this time. Promise me that I won’t lose you again, that you…”

Butterflies. There are butterflies in your chest.

The fluttery sensation is overwhelming. You pull your hand away—not that Sitri hasn’t noticed, not that he can’t tell without touching you—but it’s too late. He gives you a knowing smile, accompanied by a wild glint in his eyes and a sudden thrust from his hips.

“Ah! Sitri, you…!”

You don’t give him time to savor your reaction, leaning down to capture his lips in a kiss.

He eagerly reciprocates, strong arms wrapping around you and keeping your body flush against him. His kiss is deep, greedy, depriving you of oxygen.

When you come up for air, your heart is beating so fast that you worry it will jump out of your chest. Sitri simply has that effect on you.

“Okay,” you reply. Your lips move to his cheeks, kissing away his tears. “It’s a promise.”

“You...” The look in his eyes spells euphoria, dilated pupils akin to hearts. More tears roll down his face. “I understand, ______.”

You sit back up and match his pace. It draws out more moans from Sitri as he thrusts into you with more fervor. A reverent smile graces his features.

Beautiful. You’d like to savor that expression while you still can.

After you climax, Sitri will likely return to his composed self and put you to bed, prioritizing your comfort above his own…or would he get back at you? Flip your positions, propose another round, flash you that dangerous smirk which makes your heart flutter? Say your name differently?

A devilish smile plays on your lips.

It’s not like you have any objections. But until then, you will take your time breaking him until the only name on his tongue is yours.

♡

Read my other WHB works here Σ੧(❛□❛✿)

*cries* S-So how was that for my second time writing smut?? Cue me dying as I wrote the word er*ction….and thank you to @diodellet for proofreading this and sharing your wisdom as the veteran smut writer between us &lt;3

If there is one silver lining in WHB’s delay, it’s that the game got released during Kinktober. I honestly didn’t expect myself to get inspired right after the game’s debut, but Sitri simply had that effect on me. And after finishing Chapter 1 and his H scene, I can officially put him on my bias list ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

Tag a Sitri enjoyer!! @sparkbeast20 @2af-afterdark @d34dlysinner @pinkaditty @og-in-a-bog @h2o2-and-baking-soda @paradivis @potol0ver @gr0tesquerom4ntica @dobaekki

[thesoftboiledegg]

"Auto Erotic Assimilation" from season two is one of my least favorite episodes because it takes one of the queerest concepts in the series and makes it aggressively heterosexual. Aside from a blink-and-you'll-miss-it scene with one male alien and a joke about Rick possibly contracting STDs from coal miners, most of the episode is a straight male power fantasy.

"Look at all the hot women with big boobs throwing themselves at Rick! He's the man! Unity's avatar is another alien lady with big boobs! Don't worry, folks--even if Rick talks to a man, he's really talking to HER! Don't you wish you were him, straight male viewer? Sexy alien orgies everywhere!"

The episode does have poignant moments and famously culminates with Rick's suicide attempt after reading Unity's final message, but a third of the plot is just a goofy teenage boy's fantasy. I watch it when I rewatch the entire series, but that's the only time I expose myself to that one.

When I saw screenshots from this episode that featured Unity, I thought "Oh God, not this again." Just let it stay in season two!

Admittedly, "Air Force Wong" handled Unity with more maturity. If this episode aired in season two or three, a bunch of sexy women probably would've mobbed Rick as soon as he stepped foot in Virginia. Here, the writers focused solely on the characters' relationships--not just Rick and Unity but Rick, President Curtis and Dr. Wong and their web of interactions.

I liked how Rick referred to Unity as "them," although he starts using "she" pronouns when she disconnects from the hivemind. This highlights one of my issues from the original episode: Unity is a hivemind, but she's also a hot, sexy alien babe who controls everybody, which are two opposing concepts. This seems like a backdoor way to make Rick's interactions Certified Hetero (which is probably what it was, to be honest.)

I also thought the resolution was unsatisfying. Unity's note at the end of "Auto Erotic Assimilation" makes it clear that she and Rick just make each other worse, but "Air Force Wong" implies that they should have stayed in touch. I was hoping Rick would get closure by ending it for good, but it seems like they're maintaining their distant but toxic connection.

I did like how the end of "Air Force Wong" parallels "Auto Erotic Assimilation." Rick heads back to the garage to drink, but instead of attempting suicide again, he decides to visit the president and put aside some of their differences. Like Dr. Wong says: it's a slow process, but he's changing!

Aside from that, I loved this episode. President Curtis was hilarious ("Civil war, baby!" is already one of my favorite season seven lines), and he's as petty as ever. In fact, he's so petty that he was willing to enslave the entire Earth just for a 100% approval rating. He makes Rick look calm and responsible!

As usual, Dr. Wong was the voice of reason. She could've been just a crowd-pleasing cameo, but she guided Rick through his interactions and helped him remain stable in the face of emotional turmoil. While she flirted with the president, she didn't lose herself in some unprofessional whirlwind romance.

After watching "Pickle Rick" in 2017, who would have thought that Rick would not only willingly see Dr. Wong every week but try to punch the president to protect her honor? I wondered if he had a crush on her, but nothing he said implied romantic feelings, so I think he just feels protective over her because he distrusts the president.

Likewise, we're getting glimpses of how Rick treats his family: apologizing to Summer, sticking up for Morty when President Curtis insults him (I half-expected Rick to ruin that by giving Morty shit, but he didn't.) Morty sticking up for himself was nice, although man, the writers are underusing him. I think the president had more lines in "Air Force Wong" than Morty's had in these entire three episodes. And Morty's name is in the title!

Otherwise, setting up Prime's return was great. We're probably going to have a slow drip as season seven builds to their next confrontation. It seems like most of the trailer scenes are from the first four episodes and maybe "Wet Kuat Amortican Summer," so who knows what's in store for the other five.

And I mean--the Unity scenes weren't bad. Most of my issues are holdovers from 2015, which the writers can't change now. I'd prefer not to revisit it again, though. That's like taking another trip to Gazorpazorp.

Then again, later seasons have been correcting earlier issues (Summer saying "Sorry, Rick, but your opinion means very little to me" is one of my favorites), so revisiting "Raising Gazorpazorp" with a feminist lens could be another middle finger to the dudebros who are crying for Roiland's return and howling as Ian Cardoni outpaces him.

[kkurami]

( LOVE LETTER 2 U ! ) 💌 ² ˚ ༘ fluff

୨୧ ‧ megumi didn’t think he was anything special, not until he received a carefully written love letter just for him <3

like petals unfurling at dawn, my love for you blossoms as each waking day arises.

there’s something so enchanting about being in love, don’t you agree?

i like to believe it gives people a deeper understanding of themselves and their emotions. most people i have seen turn poetic and elegiac when talking about the one they love, which i never quite understood until i fell in love myself. after all, how much can one change just because of another person? the thought had always seemed silly to me.

but if someone were to ask me to describe my feelings for you, i guess i would be a victim of just that.

loving you is a rather unpredictable experience. at times, you make me feel like the happiest person on earth. i get so giddy and whimsical just being around your presence, because you’re the most ethereal person. however, there are times when i’m worried you won’t burn for me the way i do for you. do you feel a fire light up in your soul whenever you see me?

my dearest, your presence is the melody that dances through the corridors of my heart. in the realm of moonlit whispers and star-kissed dreams, your love blooms in the garden of my soul, a symphony of sounds that show we coexist under the same sky. in every heartbeat, i find the rhythm of our connection, a serenade that weaves its way throughout our world. together, we compose a timeless sonnet of boundless affection.

i need to confess… i’ve loved you from the start ♡

a faint blush overtook her features and sat mockingly on her cheeks, as if it waited to expose her inner feelings. she could barely feel the heat that radiated off it, everything in sync with the fast beating of her heart. the inconsistent rise and fall of her chest was synonymous the turmoil she felt deep inside.

her widened eyes held nothing less than affection for the boy who stood in front of her, as his eyes scanned the ivory paper in his hands.

fushiguro megumi, the one who had captured her heart with such grace.

it almost seemed silly, how much the boy had managed to enrapture ever fiber of her soul. after all— they hardly knew each other. she was astonished to find out that he had even known her name.

“this is a love letter?” megumi inquired, an inquisitive eyebrow raised almost as if to think it was silly. “for me?”

y/n’s head bobbed up and down in nervousness. she couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that she was speaking to megumi. “yes! i know we don’t know each other well and you probably don’t like me like that, but i just-!”

“why… me?” y/n put a hold on her rambling to scan her eyes over to megumi, who had his eyeline focused on the letter in his hands.

y/n quirked her head to the side. “why not you?” the question was silly to her. “you probably think people don’t notice you, but they do. i do. i've always admired you, megumi.”

like delicate petals falling from a sakura painted sky, y/n was a blessing that had graced the earth- at least, in megumi’s eyes. he never considered he was anything special, and opted to just live his life as it passed him by. however with just one letter, y/n seemed to reweave the tapestry of his existence. the page, filled with words of love and heartfelt serenades, seemed to hold megumi’s heart within its grasp- and y/n was at the forefront of it all.

“but,” y/n began to speak again when she noticed megumi deep in thought. “you don’t need to like me back. i just wanted to let you know how i feel!”

a sad smile graced her face, and megumi hated being the cause of it.

“let’s get lunch.” megumi roughy stated without thinking, before correcting himself. “i meant, um, let’s get lunch together.” he couldn’t stop the blush the threatened its way up to his face, nor the fast pace of his heart.

with hushed tones and soft smiles, y/n and megumi began their way towards the lunch room. the air was adorned with the subtle symphony of love as their hearts synchronized. amidst the delicate cadence, the world melted into the background, leaving only the warmth of companionship and the promise of countless conversations yet to unfold.

it was the beginning of a perfect love.

[eclecticpatrolroadlawyer]

Chapter 3

Summary: Bucky and Y/n are in arranged marriage. Bucky is having an affair. This is all it is about... Let's see where Y/n's fate lies... Should we?

Pairings: Bucky x reader, Bucky x Dot, reader x Dean Winchester

Genre: angst, affair, unrequited love, blurb

Illicit Affairs

chapter 1 chapter 2

5 months later after Dot and Bucky's meeting (i.e. 3 months earlier)

Dot's POV

Taking a deep breath, I enter the restaurant with a gentle smile, scrolling through my phone to check for any messages. Spotting Bucky at a table, looking out the window, I smile and walk up to him, putting a hand on his shoulder to make my presence known.

He jumps a little at the sudden touch, turning to see me, a breath of relief escaping him. "Oh. It's you…haha yeah, it's you," he says, his tone a mix of surprise and nervousness. Ignoring his initial reaction, I reply with a smile, "Yes, of course, it's me—on our date, whom you were expecting." I tease him playfully, and he chuckles, shaking his head. "No, no… nothing… Yes, you are right, my bad, doll."

As Bucky chuckles at my teasing remark, I decide to add a bit more to lighten the mood.

"You know, for a moment there, I thought I might have been replaced by a secret agent or something. I mean, the way you reacted, I half-expected you to say, 'The eagle has landed, mission accomplished,'" I quip, a playful glint in my eyes.

Bucky bursts into a genuine laugh, his earlier tension dissipating. "Well, you caught me off guard. Next time, I'll try to keep my spy skills in check," he jokes, raising an imaginary spy hat.

We share a laugh, the atmosphere lightening, and I take a seat across from him. The initial surprise forgotten, we settle into the easy rhythm of a date, enjoying each other's company amidst the cozy ambiance of the restaurant.

In the midst of our date, he excuses himself for a bathroom break, and as I patiently wait, a soft glow emanates from his phone. Intrigued unintentionally, I glance at the screen, revealing 24 unread messages from someone labeled 'wife.' The weight of that word hits me like an unexpected storm, and my breath catches. I double-check, my eyes fixated on the screen, and time seems to come to a standstill. Emotions surge within me—a tumultuous blend of confusion, heartache, and an unfamiliar ache that words struggle to define. It's an unusual feeling, foreign yet poignant, as the realization dawns that I might have merely been a fleeting moment in the tapestry of his life that he shred.

As he returns from the bathroom, I attempt to hide the inner turmoil, plastering a smile on my face. The weight of the discovered messages lingers, creating an invisible barrier between us. We resume our conversation, but my mind is a filled of thoughts, swirling with unspoken questions. The restaurant buzzes around us, but something's off.

As the evening unfolds, the once vibrant colors of our date now seem muted. There's a feeling like things were messed up—the threads of his life kind of tangled. Silence wraps around us, punctuated by the clinking of cutlery and distant chatter. The air between us gets heavy, and we sit in quiet, the noise of the place highlighting the unspoken things hanging there.

"Are you okay?" His hand on mine grounds me, but I'm lost in a whirlwind of uncertainty. I nod quietly, my lips parting, struggling to find words to calm the chaos within.

Questions torment me—confront or ignore? Logic demands answers, but my heart quivers at the thought of the truth. I stare at him, silently pleading for reassurance, as if hoping he'll unveil this as a prank, a figment of my imagination.

The unsettling image lingers, and with a heavy sigh, I unconsciously let out, loud enough for him to hear, "It's all a mess." Each word carries the weight of confusion, hurt, and a yearning for things to make sense again.

Days pass, the weight of the unanswered questions lingering between us. The air is thick with tension, and I find myself unable to carry the burden of uncertainty any longer.

One evening, as we sit in a quiet corner of the park, I gather the courage to break the silence. The golden hues of the setting sun cast a warm glow, yet my heart is heavy with the unspoken.

Taking a deep breath, I look into Bucky's eyes, searching for the truth I desperately need. "Bucky, there's something on my mind, and I can't keep pretending everything is okay. I saw those messages, the ones from your 'wife.' Can you please help me understand? I need to know what's happening."

The words hang in the air, and the park's serene ambiance contrasts with the storm brewing within me. His reaction, his response—everything is poised on the edge, waiting to unravel the tangled threads of our story.

"Bucky," I shake him gently, my voice trembling with fear and desperation. "Who's she? Are you married?" I ask again, louder this time, my hands shaking as I cling to the hope that it's all just a misunderstanding. "Tell me it's not true. TELL ME IT'S NOT WHAT I THINK IT IS!" I shout, unable to contain the rising panic and anguish within me.

My outburst attracts a few curious glances from passersby, but I try to regain control, taking a deep breath to steady myself as tears well up in my eyes.

"I… I need to go," I whisper, a quiet plea to escape the unbearable truth. As I make to leave, I see the disbelief in Bucky's eyes, his shaky breath betraying his inner turmoil. His silent plea begs me to stay, to listen, but I can't bear to look at him any longer. Disappointment floods me as I meet his gaze, shaking my head in silent reproach. Closing my eyes, I let a few tears slip down my cheeks before gathering my purse and walking away, leaving him alone at the table.

After reaching home, I close the door behind me, leaning against it as tears cascade down my cheeks, finally allowing myself to release the flood of emotions I've been holding back.

"I trusted him," I whisper to myself, the words heavy with betrayal and disbelief. I sink to the floor, clutching my legs to my chest, burying my face in my hands as I cry. Each sob feels like a dagger to my heart, a painful reminder of the shattered trust and broken dreams.

As the minutes pass, I cry like a child, the weight of my heartache crushing me. I curse myself for being so foolish, for letting my guard down and allowing myself to love so deeply. Bright colors of hope and happiness that once filled my heart now seem distant and faded, replaced by a darkness that threatens to consume me once more.

The pain is unbearable, a relentless ache that pierces through every fibre of my being. I feel lost and alone, abandoned by the one person I thought was my safe haven. It hurts—oh, how it hurts—more than I ever thought possible.

"I gave it my all, and he gave me nothin' at all," I murmur to myself, the words heavy with resignation and sorrow. In the quiet solitude of my home, surrounded by the echoes of my own pain, I confront the harsh reality of unrequited love. Despite pouring my heart and soul into the relationship, it feels like I've received nothing in return but heartache and disappointment. It's a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that I gave everything I had to someone who couldn't—or wouldn't—meet me halfway.

The days stretched on, each one a painful reminder of the shattered pieces of my heart. I bury myself in work, in hobbies—anything to distract myself from the gaping void left by Bucky's betrayal. But no matter how busy I kept myself, his absence lingered like a haunting shadow.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the world outside grew still, there comes a hesitant knock at my door. My heart skipped a beat as I approached, uncertainty mingling with a flicker of hope.

Opening the door, I am met with the sight of Bucky, his usual confident demeanour replaced by an uncharacteristic vulnerability. "Can we talk?" he asked softly, his voice tinged with regret.

Part of me wanted to slam the door shut, to shut him out like he had shut me out. But another part—a part that still holds onto the memories of love and laughter—couldn't turn him away.

I nod silently, stepping aside to let him in. We sit in awkward silence for a moment, the weight of our unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

"I'm sorry," he finally whispers, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. "I messed up. I never meant to hurt you."

His words stir something inside me—anger, hurt, but also a lingering spark of longing. Against my better judgment, I find myself drawn to him, the magnetic pull between us undeniable.

Before I can stop myself, I close the distance between us, my hand reaching out to touch his cheek. Our eyes meet, and in that moment, the floodgates of desire open, the tension crackling between us like electricity.

One kiss leads to another, and soon we are lost in a hunger that had been brewing quietly. Clothes fell away, our inhibitions tossed aside as we surrendered to the primal longing that surged within us.

In the heat of the moment, all thoughts of pain and betrayal melted away, replaced by the intoxicating rush of passion and desire. We collapse into each other's arms, spent and breathless, even though I know it is wrong, even though he has a wife.

Soon I find myself entangled in an illicit affair.

Make sure nobody sees you leave

Hood over your head, keep your eyes down

Tell your friends you're out for a run

You'll be flushed when you return

Take the road less traveled by

Tell yourself you can always stop

What started in beautiful rooms

Ends with meetings in parking lots

And that's the thing about illicit affairs

And clandestine meetings and longing stares

It's born from just one single glance

But it dies, and it dies, and it dies

A million little times

Leave the perfume on the shelf

That you picked out just for him

So you leave no trace behind

Like you don't even exist

Take the words for what they are

A dwindling, mercurial high

A drug that only worked

The first few hundred times

And that's the thing about illicit affairs

And clandestine meetings and stolen stares

They show their truth one single time

But they lie, and they lie, and they lie

A million little times

And you wanna scream

Don't call me "kid"

Don't call me "baby"

Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me

You showed me colors

You know I can't see with anyone else

Don't call me "kid"

Don't call me "baby"

Look at this idiotic fool that you made me

You taught me a secret language

I can't speak with anyone else

And you know damn well

For you, I would ruin myself

A million little times

Note: Hey guys! Hope you like it. English is actually my second language so if there's any mistake you can inform me by messaging me privately. And PLEASE REBLOG AND DON'T STEAL MY WORK. Please like and comment too so, that I can know your views. Thank you for reading guys! Have a nice day and please comment if you wanna be tagged in.

Taglist: @angstysebfan @cjand10@learisa @themorningsunshine @binkszamsstuff

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[sixthwater]

Hello! Have you been feeling a bit lost recently? Especially with all of the eclipses that we've been experiencing? Well, here is some short advice from your spirit guides and angels to help get things sorted out.

Left → Right / Pile 1 → Pile 4)

Decks Used: The Psychic Oracle, Fairies Oracle Deck, Elle Qui Oracle, Woodland Wardens Oracle, Sacred Creators Oracle, Sea Melodies, Language of Flowers, Wild Unknown Animal Spirits,

Disclaimer | Pinned | Tip Jar | Paid Readings

Pile One

I began your reading and my back started killing me; make sure you’re doing proper stretches or you’re not pushing yourself too hard to wear yourself out.

There is a sense of holding your tongue or keeping yourself trapped in the closet. I just got an image of The Little Mermaid when she signed away her voice but it’s not the Disney version it’s the legitimate fairy tale, it’s also more of a choice? It’s difficult to describe; it’s not that you prefer to be uncomfortable and to hide under a mask blah blah blah, but there’s experience of pain and loss so you don’t want to do it again. Maybe you haven’t expressed certain emotions or identities, but you overheard them being looked down upon or it was made fun of, so instead you locked these emotions up and threw away the key (ex; someone laughing at you having feelings for them when brought up as a joke or someone disrespecting a sexual orientation/identity, etc). Your pile is the very first, in all of my history of reading, where I want to be completely silent and only listen to certain frequencies as well.

The advice: You need to listen to yourself and the world (in a way). You already have the answers to your questions/concerns inside of you, but you do need some help finding them obviously. You’re looking for external answers, but it’s only causing more confusion because...well everyone sees the world differently. So when you try to put yourself in those shoes, it causes more scratches on the Vinyl record that is your life, you know? It’s funny to say this but they’re kind of asking you to pull back and not move on so fast from what’s going on because you haven’t really sat with your feelings and gone through the process. What’s been upsetting you and why did it bother you. Why did you react that way. Well how did you get to Point E from Point B? Take a time out and sort these things out when you can because it’ll get you some clarity. There’s also a piece here about communicating and becoming vulnerable. It’s not exactly the same, but I need to figure myself out sometimes with talking and I end up stumbling upon revelations through discussions. You might need to have a low energy discussion with someone you feel comfortable with you so can get to these answers. You don’t need to immediately express or explain these things, but it will help you out. Some of you might need to re-route yourselves because you are lost and you took the wrong exit; it’s fine, that’s life and it’ll happen constantly. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, if you weren’t here to make mistakes then what are you even here for. Confide in other people, ask for help, get some guidance. You can rely on those around you, not everyone will want to hurt you. I keep being nudged to an issue with identity and — for some it’s just figuring out who you are but there’s pain so if it is what i mentioned earlier, only you know yourself. People can help, but do not let them police who you are and decide what’s ‘correct’ and what’s not. The main message overall is that there is a need for you to be vulnerable with people — or at least someone. There is either embarrassment or pride here holding you back and it’s smothering emotions that end up causing inner turmoil. I would say this points to seeking out a therapist but there are no swords here, so I believe this could just point to finding people to confide in or making peace with the softer aspects of yourself that you might find shameful.

With ‘Chance’ and ‘Dive’, I believe it’s just pointing more towards diving deeper into unknown territory which would be emotions you haven’t explored yet. ‘You cant live your life dealing with surface level things’ is the phrase I’m getting.

Pile Two

Pretty simple so this might be short. The energy check is a bit out of reach despite how simple it seems. I think the first two songs might sum it up a lot better than I can. I don’t believe it deals directly with love, but the idea remains.

I think the advice here is to not teeter too much to one side. You’re not lacking in passion, but you might pull back too much if something fails. There’s a slim piece about being a bit scattered in where you want to go, but we’ll touch on that later. For now, it’s being enveloped by how alive you feel when you’re going after your dreams. How happy it makes you and the rush you get. I keep being drawn back to Passion Ignited as well as Aylis because they’re similar; a glowing ‘orb’ that’s placed over the chest somewhat. Ah that reminds me of The Greatest Showman. Just it’s song ‘Come Alive’, I think that fits this pile quite well. You just have to be comfortable diving into your passion and not be embarrassed, and even when making mistakes, to laugh it off and keep chasing after it. It doesn’t even have to be a dream — people call nearly everything cringe these days. Are we not supposed to have hobbies? Enjoy your hobbies, that’s the point of living. What does it matter. Express yourself and be a bit goofy, you’re a bit tense and scared of messing up right now, but it’s okay. Now before I mentioned being scattered — there’s a small message of getting a clear view of what you want in your life. Do you want to be an influencer or do you just want a good work-life balance. Or a remote job. It’s the general idea that you have which might not really be what you want at the end of the day, and they’re just asking you to clarify, because you can make certain things come true if that’s what you want. However, with just as many ‘let loose’ cards you have, they’re balanced with some grounded cards here. Also, if you haven’t reached your goal yet, don’t give up. We never reach our goal with just one attempt or in just one chapter. You will get there.

Tiger Lily...maybe my job example was on point? If you’re thinking of jumping into something headfirst with no back-up, really think about it. Make sure you have savings, you have a safety-net, you have all your bases covered, etc. There are plenty of people who can afford to take a risky route of income because other people are covering bills with an insane paycheck, or they’ve had years to build up a base. Be patient, and work dutifully to get to that place. It’s difficult, but with these really precious spread I believe that you will have much to offer people if you take your time. This doesn’t mean give up, it just means be smart and take your time.

Associated Songs: Passion – Utada Hikaru, All My Heart – Sleeping with Sirens, Tonight – Kesha

Pile Three

This is gorgeous. The energy while pulling cards was light and goofy and I’m understanding why now. The meaning of these cards would usually give off a blue/purple aura, since there are a lot of messages alluding to soul searching, but I believe this is more...personable? How do I explain this.

Usually when you think of soul searching, you think of The Hermit. Someone who pulls back from socializing and focuses on themselves. However with this combination, it feels more like really thinking about- I’m sorry the strongest smell just popped through my vents and it smells like Cinnamon. It is not my favorite but it reminds me of gatherings late at night, anyway — It feels like thinking about the people around you and how they reflect you and what you want in your life. You figure yourself out and what you want out of life by interacting with others. It’s not that you need others to do this, but they shine a light on certain aspects of yourself or they bring you to do activities that you wouldn’t have done on your own, thus making you have these realizations. So the advice itself is saying that you should sit on these moments and really let them seep in. They’re not necessarily telling you to isolate and do some introspective thinking, but when you have these moments, don’t push them aside to keep up with others. You have a knack for knowing yourself inside and out, and what’s best for you. I know that seems pretty normal, but it’s not necessarily common. Knowing who or what you want VS what you don’t is a good gift and you should be utilizing it right now. I keep hearing ‘don’t be satisfied’. Keep looking for things that really make you happy. It’s not in a greedy sense, but don’t think ‘well that’ll do’, go seek out experiences or hobbies that make you feel whole! I don’t deal with chakras, but all this green is hard to ignore considering it stands for the Heart and I’ve felt happy and calm the entire reading. There’s not much advice here because you might already have the answer inside of you but more like recommendations; such as going for walks, or having calm hangouts with friends or family. I think you’re already doing what’s being said here, but do your best to keep a balance of focusing on those revelations of what’s best for you and healthy doses of engagement with those around you. I don’t have to pull extra cards either, you seem to be doing quite fine honestly

(There are no songs here, a lot of light-hearted songs. Some goofy mixes. Good Time by Carly Rae Jepsen & Owl City as well as chill songs that don’t really have messages in them)

Pile Four

Confidence. That sums up your whole reading. Well that and some change. Right now it doesn’t necessarily feel like doubt or naysayers, but you don’t really have people to boost you up. Or you need to feel extremely safe/supported in order to really go after something — which feels more physical than spiritual. So it could be a change in majors, career, personal expression, hell maybe just changing direction with your life in terms of dropping out or not using your degree in pursuit of something else entirely. The flowers in the Deceit card resemble horns right now and it’s like opinions or external thoughts regarding the situation that can make you overthink your next steps or how you feel about the topic in general. Gosh I’m forgetting the term but in a way, they could end up being right in a sense that they affect your natural ability and make you way too anxious to perform naturally, thus making you fail. So it’s the ‘well I’m going to fail so I’m not even going to do my very best’ so when you fail you think it was destined to happen.

Your guides and angels are asking you to just take a chance and trust in the adventure. You have to move with confidence, you can’t be sheepish with this. You could be new to this change, so obviously mistakes will happen, but you can’t go into this with a pessimistic attitude. I’m seriously not getting any negative energy around you so don’t worry about that. If the world around you is dull, explore different avenues that give you joy. I’m always going to say to never just leap into the unknown without any thought, but you seem extremely hesitant and it’s holding you back from a new chapter and great experiences that are meant for you. This could be in the shape of a new job or merely just new friends who could help you gain more confidence within yourself. Again though, this pile seems more material based than the others, so I’m thinking it’s related to money matters or at the most, possibly moving but that’s a stretch. There’s a small piece of being scared to take up new opportunities because you’re not well versed in them but, you won’t know everything in the world? The only way to gain experience is to test it out. If it’s for you, then you’ll know once you try it, right?

Haha the Bear! Yeah, this is an uncomfortable time for you, but it’s urging you to sort of learn how to walk, and embrace the natural calmness yet underlying formidable strength of this animal. I’m thinking of when someone was arguing that the bear was one of the scariest predators in the world, but this card also stands for inner strength and you literally have Strength here so, you just have to be comfortable entering this new stage of life (transitions, which there are too many examples for me to list here). Don’t be hard on yourself, everyone has been in your place before.

(Not many songs, just Bends by Carly Rae Jepsen stood out)

[queenshelby]

An Illicit Affair

Part 14: The Cut

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

Pacing to where Cillian was staying, you couldn't shake off the anxiety swirling in your gut concerning his health and, when you approached the room, you knocked softly on the door.

A familiar voice greeted you with an affable, "Come in!"

Upon entering, you noticed Cillian lying on bed with a bandaged wrist and hand, looking worn and tired. His usual vibrant energy seemed drained, replaced by a tentative vulnerability. His eyes locked onto you, revealing an unsettling mix of surprise and apprehension, 

"Hi," you said quietly despite the turmoil churning within you before closing the door behind you. "What happened?" you asked Cillian hesitantly, trying to mask the genuine concern in your voice.

"It's nothing Y/N. Just a small accident," Cillian responded, wincing slightly as he shifted uncomfortably on the bed. 

"You have a deep laceration on the palm of your hand, close to the tendon. That's not nothing Cillian," you replied sternly, glancing down at the patient folder in your hands and reading through the notes meticulously. 

"It was a minor mishap, Y/N," Cillian insisted, attempting to brush off your concerns with a nonchalant gesture. 

"And how did this mishap happen?" you questioned Cillian cautiously, moving closer to examine his bandage thoroughly.

"I cut myself on a sharp piece of metal inside the car we rented for the week," Cillian explained somewhat nervously, causing you to furrow your brows skeptically.

"A sharp piece of metal?" you asked. "Inside your rental car?" you echoed, studying Cillian's expression intently. There was something about the way he spoke that struck you as peculiar, but you couldn't quite pinpoint what it was.

"Yes, the interior paneling was loose, and I must have accidentally jabbed myself when grabbing it," Cillian offered, his tone neutral, though you couldn't help but notice how his gaze flickered nervously.

"Right," you replied, scribbling something in his chart while studying him curiously.

"Do you mind if I have a look at the stitches? We will need to change the dressing again and I will also have to take some vitals, check your blood pressure and pulse," you told Cillian gently before approaching him cautiously with your expression softening.

"Alright," Cillian agreed graciously, nodding in agreement while biting his lower lip.

"Can you sit up a bit please?" you requested politely.

"Sure," Cillian obliged, gingerly propping himself up with a pillow behind his back while you put on some sterile gloves. 

You paused for a moment, observing him closely before reaching out to touch his bandaged wound delicately.

"Does it hurt?" you asked him gently, your voice laced with empathy as you inhaled the earthy scent of his afterhsave.

"A little," Cillian admitted, his breathing shallow as he clenched his jaw.

You carefully removed the sterile gauze, revealing a neat row of black stitches. Your fingertips brushed against the rough surface of his skin. 

"Dr Smith did a good job with these," you murmured, leaning in closer. As you examined the wound, your heart raced, and your palms grew clammy beneath the gloves, simply due to how close you were to Cillian.

"Last night was nice," you then murmured under your breath, causing Cillian to lift his uninjured hand and trace two of his fingers through your hair gently.

"It was," Cillian acknowledged quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "I really missed spending time with you," he admitted, pausing briefly to glance down at his bandaged hand. "I know, it's fucked up, considering I'm married and all," he said, looking up at you apologetically.  "But Danielle and I, we argue a lot," he sighed, gesturing weakly at the hospital bed. "We barely sleep in the same room anymore and," he added, shaking his head sorrowfully before abandoning his sentence.

"And what?" you asked quietly before letting go of his hand carefully, looking into his eyes attentively.

"Nothing," Cillian said softly, avoiding your gaze. "I guess I just really like being around you," he then said, his eyes darting between your face and the floor. "And maybe we can stay in touch this time," he muttered, clearing his throat awkwardly. "If you want to," he finally said somewhat shyly. 

"I hope this isn't just the Endone talking," you thought to yourself, speaking out loud and wondering whether the painkillers he was on were affecting his judgment.

You glanced at him from under your eyelashes, noticing the flecks in his deep blue eyes and feeling a tug of sympathy for the broken marriage he was trapped in. As much as you hated to admit it, his honesty and vulnerability made you feel an odd kinship with him and you wondered if he was aware of how deeply he had burrowed his way into your heart.

"I should probably change that dressing now," you then told him while sitting down on the edge of the bed and placing out some new gauzes, iodine and bandages on the small tray in front of you. "When was your last tetanus shot?" you question Cillian, trying to steer the conversation toward practical matters.

"Probably a long time ago, when I was a kid, but I have no idea," Cillian replied, his voice quivering somewhat.

"Alright, then I will order a booster," you assured him, penning down a note in his patient chart.

As you worked to replace the dressing, Cillian kept his gaze fixated on you, his intense blue eyes burning a hole through your scrubs. The silence stretches taut between you, heavy with unspoken words and lingering tension.

"You will need to have this dressing changed again in two days by your local doctor," you advised Cillian, finishing up your work while looking up at him expectantly.

"Okay, doc, I will get it fixed up again in two days," he chuckled, his voice slightly hoarse while looking at you more intently now. 

"Do you mind if I take some vitals now?" you asked Cillian, interrupting the charged silence and reaching for the stethoscope hanging around your neck. You knew he needed a distraction, a gentle reminder of the doctor-patient dynamic you were navigating.

"Sure, go ahead," Cillian acquiesced, watching as you wrapped the stethoscope ends around your ears. "The nurse already took my blood pressure twice this morning though," he advised you, causing you to chuckle. 

"Yeah, I can see that on your patient chart," you smiled, your cheeks reddening slightly. "But, I will need to listen to your heart and lungs as well, just to make sure that everything is okay," you informed Cillian, your gaze locked on his.

"Do you want me to take off my t-shirt?" Cillian asked, his voice wavering ever so slightly. "So that you can listen to my heart and lungs properly, I mean," he clarified as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down nervously, catching your attention.

"Yes please," you bit your lower lip lightly, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks before asking him whether, with his injured hand, he needed some help.

The corners of his mouth twitched into a crooked grin as he gave you a knowing glance.

"I can manage," he chuckled, pulling his t-shirt over his head with his good hand while you glanced at him intently as he revealed his lean torso to your eager gaze.

"You know, I really love your freckles," you murmured while blushing deeply, causing Cillian to chuckle.

 "I suppose they are quite distinctive, aren't they?" he mused, meeting your gaze with a knowing spark.

"They are," you replied before placing the stethoscope on his left breastbone, holding your breath as you listened to his heartbeat.

"You have a fast heartbeat," you murmured, taking measurements and recording the results diligently while Cillian swallowed hard, his pupils dilating slightly as he gazed at you.

"Yeah, because you are here," he mused playfully, his voice dropping an octave. "I am sure if Dr Smith was taking the readings, I wouldn't be all that excited," he added teasingly, causing you to burst out laughing.

"Alright then you charmer," you playfully scolded him, removing the stethoscope from his chest and moving on to listening to his lung sounds.

The sound of Cillian's steady breathing echoed in your ears, and the intimacy of the moment sent shivers down your spine. You felt an electric charge between you, almost tangible. You knew you shouldn't be feeling this way, but the chemistry between you was undeniable.

As you listened to his lungs, you couldn't help but admire the way his muscles flexed beneath his skin. There was something incredibly sexy about it, something primal and raw. You could sense the sexual tension mounting between you both, thick and palpable.

"Can you listen to my heart again?" Cillian asked, arching an eyebrow coyly. "Because it felt kind of nice when you did," Cillian smirked, causing you to roll your eyes suggestively. 

"Did it just?" you teased before giving in to his request and placing the stethoscope back on his chest with one hand while using your other hand to run your now bare fingers through his chest hair.

"Your heartrate is still a little fast but, otherwise, it sounds pretty healthy," you commented appreciatively as you moved the cold instrument over his chest, feeling the thumping heartbeat underneath it. "I do appreciate the second reading," you added, meeting his gaze boldly and seeing the lust growing in his eyes, both of your hands resting on his chest.

"I can hear your heart racing too," Cillian said huskily, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he exhaled heavily. "In fact, I think it's even faster than mine," he chuckled, his eyes gleaming with mischief just as the door to Cillian's room opened somewhat unexpectedly, causing you to startle. 

"Y/N," you heard the familiar voice of Danielle say as you removed the stethoscope from your ears hurriedly, trying to compose yourself.

Danielle, dressed in an expensive casual attire, stepped into the room, her gaze sweeping over you both.

"How is my husband doing? Is he doing okay?" she asked, casting a curious glance at you and Cillian, acknowledging your interaction without the slightest hint of suspicion.

"Yes, he's recovering nicely," you managed to respond smoothly, suppressing any signs of unease while handing Cillian his t-shirt.

"He will need to stay for another hour or so to have a tetanus booster, but he can be discharged after that," 

you informed Danielle, maintaining direct eye contact to ensure your composure.

"Thank you, Y/N," Danielle replied gracefully, extending her slender hand for a brief handshake while a faint, forced smile stretched across her lips. "I'm just glad he's alright," she added, her voice strained and, when you shook her hand, you noticed something strange. 

There was a large bruise on her right wrist and a few small, uneven cuts on the underside of her arm. 

"Last night started off so well and then we ended up here," she told you while pulling away her hand and hiding her injuries from you, thinking that you hadn't yet noticed.

"And why was that, again?" you wondered out loud and, before Cillian could interject, Danielle told you that Cillian hat cut himself while cutting up some fruit.

"He is such a klutz sometimes," Danielle laughed feebly, shaking her head at the thought as her gaze drifted to you, suddenly becoming somber. "Are you alright Y/N?" she asked, seeing the puzzled look on your face while she quickly pulled her sleeve downwards.

"Yes, I am fine... and Cillian will be fine too but I, uhm..." you began to stammer almost nervously. "I will need to do some imaging on his hand before he goes. I almost forgot. So maybe you could pick him up after lunch?" you told Danielle politely who nodded at you with a sincere smile.

"Of course," she said warmly and unsuspiciously. "I will be back at around one o'clock, does that suit?" she wanted to know before thanking you for taking such good care of her husband. "You've been absolutely wonderful," she praised you, gratitude shining in her eyes.

To be continued...

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c

[atlasscrumpit]

Ello, I just really love your yandere moonknight works (BECUSE I love to put myself through emotional turmoil for soem reason) and had a tinsey idea if your still up for taking requests for them.

I've stumbled upon a few yandere fics where the reader just kinda 'breaks' and becomes completely compliant and dosent argue back or anything. BUT the reader also kinda looses their personality and will to do anything besides obey the yandere and sleep. I was just wondering how you think the boys would deal with this situation and if you think theyd try to get reader back?

Numb

It was normal for your mind to switch off and go into auto, when everyday could end with you being hurt, you learnt to just be numb and do whatever they said.

But, Steven was the one that started to notice it more than the others.

He sat beside you on the couch and ran his hand through your hair, noticing nothing changed in your face.

"Hey, love. You've been so...different lately, is something wrong?" He asked still stroking your hair.

"What do you mean?" You whispered making him sigh.

"You're so...numb these days. I miss my Y/N." He whispered kissing the side of your head.

"Baby? Talk to me." He whispered as you slowly looked at him.

"It's okay, do you want dinner?" You replied, as if it was completely rehersed.

"No... No it's okay, we'll order in whatever you want. How does that sound?" He said, an unsure smile gracing his face.

"Why?" You whispered as if it was some kind of trick.

"Because you're our special girl, you deserve to have a treat." He said holding your face in his hand.

"Okay..."

--

Steven stood in the bathroom, staring into the mirror.

"What have we done, Marc? She's just a shell now, maybe we went too hard on her." Steven muttered as Marc looked back at him.

"Maybe for the first few months we were pretty hard on her... But, she needed to learn what was right and wrong." He replied making Steven sigh.

"I just want her back to how she was." He muttered sadly.

"What if we try a few things? Maybe we could get her a pet or something." He said as Steven nodded, he glanced out of the bathroom to see you sitting by the window just staring out.

He walked up to you and knelt beside the chair.

"What are you looking at, darling?" He asked softly.

"Nothing." You muttered in a monotone voice.

"Do you want to go out for a walk?" He asked as you slowly turned to look at him.

"I'm not allowed outside." You responded, blandly.

"But, just this one special time. I'll be there beside you." He said as you went back to staring out the window.

"No thank you." You muttered making him sigh.

"Stay here, okay? I just need to go out for a bit."

--

When Steven returned, he found you in the exact spot he had left you in.

He walked over to you again, holding something in his arms.

"Y/N, love. I got something for you." He said slowly placing a dog onto your lap, you looked down at the small jack russell that looked over the moon to see you.

You slowly reached up and started to pat him, eventually Steven saw a small smile on your face.

"What's his name?" You muttered, the dog licking your hand.

"His name is Mutt, original I know but he's a rescue dog. I was thinking he could be yours." Steven said as you looked at him in confusion.

"But... Why?" You asked, your smile fading.

"You've been so...numb lately. I just want to see the old Y/N." He said as the dog settled in your lap.

"I thought that's what you wanted... I stopped showing emotions because...you always got angry." You whispered, Steven could see tears begining to form in your eyes, knowing how much you had held in for the past few weeks.

"I know, and I'm sorry we got so angry. We went too hard on you, we just wanted you to do the right thing. But, we hurt you and we shouldn't have." Steven said as you began to cry, he reached up and wrapped his arms around you as you sobbed, your new dog licking your face to try and help.

"It's okay, baby. I've got you. It's okay." Steven whispered playing with your hair as you cried into his shoulder.

"We'll go easier on you from now on, okay?" He whispered as you nodded a little and continued to cry.

"It's alright, love."

[iridescentpull]

Letter from Anthony to Ian (August 24, 2017)

**NOTE: There might be a few spelling mistakes so I apologize! This is a transcript of Anthony's letter put together for your reading!**

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

Ian,

Hello old time friend. I have a lot to say to you that has remained unsaid for many years.

First, I want to thank you for being such a great friend to me in my very fragile teenage years. I came from a broken home with very little money and no means to explore the world outside of suburban Carmichael. You introduced me to your loving family, who welcomed me and loved me with open arms. They helped me travel and showed me a way of life that I hadn't been exposed to. You personally were supportive and overall were a very good friend to me who I felt could share anything with. 

I'm not sure why, but something changed. I feel our best friendship ended around 2009, and a resentment started growing between us. I started feeling a judgment in the tone of your voice. A sense of hostility in your actions. Did I do something that upset you? Did I treat you poorly? Did I make you feel insignificant- downplay the importance you had in our company and imply you were not as responsible for our success as me? 

I know I struggle with many things, and I'm so sorry if i ever put you through emotional turmoil in order to fulfill my own quota of self-importance. I always wanted everything I made to be just that- something I "made" with your help. I considered smosh to be something you only tagged along for, and I'm deeply sorry if I ever made you feel like you didn't deserve as much credit as me. You may not have done some of the heavy lifting I did in the early days, but definitely encouraged us to keep going and you kept things light and full of laughs as we did it. We accomplished so much and I am now just realizing how important you were in making that happen. 

I have so many things I have treated that I regret and so many things I wish I could apologize to you for doing- I really wish you would give me a chance to speak with you. There are also so many things I wish you would explain to me. 

Why have you consistently made me feel ashamed to be myself in front of you for so many years? The time I asked you what you thought about my shoes when we were seventeen and you told me you thought they were hideous- and I could tell you only said it to hurt my feelings. The time you talked shit behind my back on facebook to the girl we were friends with that I introduced you to. The amount of things you said behind my back to our high school friends about me and my relationship. The snide remarks you made about me being vegan. The times you made me feel stupid for making any content whatsoever that was not directly smosh-related. The snide remarks about anything I made that put my true emotions out there for the world. I just wished you were better at communicating.

I know I'm not any better but i feel like i tried with you. I tried to break out of my comfort zone and talk about things that made me feel uncomfortable. When we were in New York for our "Ghostmates" tour we got drinks and I opened up about how embarrassed I was that my previous relationship was so obviously bad to the outside world and how naive I was to think I would actually marry someone like that. I was vulnerable and breaking down all my walls in hopes you'd return the favor. But nothing. The conversation was once again one-sided.

Am I just horrible to open up to you? Have I made you feel uncomfortable to open up around me? Have I made you feel all the ways you've made me feel? Are the ways you treat me nothing but an echo of how I treat you? Am I the one at fault here? Did I create a problem that went way further than the point of no return? Is this all because of me? 

PERHAPS.

But I don't think there is a point of no return for friendships as deep as ours was. I am reaching out to you as an ex-best friend. I want to talk about things and lay them all out there so we can possibly mend things. And if we don't become friends again, at least we can say we tried. But why avoid trying all together? 

What are you afraid of? I know I've been callous in the past, but please give me a chance. I've changed and I'm now a more understanding person. All I ask for you is for you to stop being a fucking asshole. Just kidding. I had to say it. I just want you to treat me with respect again.

After everything I've observed in the past few years, I'm starting to truly believe you may not be a good person anymore. Do I even want to know the bitter, grumpy, vengeful person you've become? Is it better that I keep my distance to ensure I don't get even more hurt by you in the future? 

I feel like you've become the bully. You are so upset by so many things but you keep it all to yourself. No one knows what's really going on inside your head, but you take the easiest route and put a fake smile on and walk around like you have a life to envy, but deep down inside you're hurting. There's more going on than you even know, All things that slowly come bubbling up to the surface through your skin, they boil under the surface and fester until they finally burst with a shitty loaded comment or a passive aggressive outburst. 

I feel like I haven't known the real you for so many years. Does anyone know the real you?

Do you know the real you?