#the romance novel stare strikes again

[hazyange1s]

“okay, that confirms it. you’re undoubtedly stalking me.”

“what kind of a gentleman would I be if I allowed a lady to traverse the dark woods alone?”

recreating fanfic scenes to make yourself feel better after a bad day >> (intended for readers 18+)

[feyascorner]

Hear me out! Hear me out!

From Astrion's pov

A Tav who hates physical contact.

But then one night when it's pouring rain Tav comes to Astarion's tent feeling scared and ask if they can stay and then one thing leads to another and suddenly the two of them are cuddled together and Astarion is like "I thought you didn't like being touched" and Tav is like "Normally I'm scared people will hurt me when they touch me. But you are different. I feel safe with you. I trust you."

a/n. I’m going to collapse they’re everything to me AHHH THIS IS SUCH A CUTE PROMPT

Astarion, by nature and by the two-hundred years he’s spent as a vampire spawn, is a touchy person. It’s instinctual. A habit he can no longer break. It’s not even sexual, half the time. It’s simply how he conveys the words that he struggles to say, even if his vocabulary is filled to the brim with flowery verses of love straight from a romance novel.

But he understands the aversion for touch. Because he’s spent so much of his life hating the touch of strangers against his skin, he understands when you recoil when one of your companions attempt to hug you, or someone tries to shake your hand. Even if yours doesn’t stem from the similar situations where he had to set out on a victim under Cazador’s orders, he understands what it’s like to simply dislike it.

He doesn’t touch you, even if his hand itches to brush the stray strands of hair out of your face. Even as he has to yank his arm away when he feels it nearing yours as you walk alongside one another. Even as all he wants to do is drag you to the nearest corner and beg that you just hold his hand.

So when you appear at the flap of his tent, barely shielding yourself from the thunderous weather outside, asking if you can stay, his jaw physically unhinges.

He coughs, gathering himself quickly—or as quickly as he can manage.

“Come here, darling. You’ll freeze away with that mortal body of yours.”

He doesn’t even know how it happens. Well, he does, but he doesn’t really believe it’s happening. Only fifteen minutes later, you’re snuggled in under his blankets, pressed tightly against his side. He stares up at the ceiling on his back with wide eyes, slowly turning to look at you.

“Is this…alright?” He asks, and you peek out from one eye, adjusting your head on his arm. He can smell your shampoo from so close—lavender? No, maybe another blasted flower he doesn’t know the name of…

“What is?”

“This,” he waves his free arm between the two of you. “Don’t get me wrong, darling, you know I’m never against a cuddle, but I thought you—well—“

You stare at him expectantly.

“I thought you disliked physical contact,” he says, softer. “Not just with me, obviously. In general you seem rather opposed to the idea.”

The thunder rings from outside and your brows crease deeper. The light from a lightning strike illuminates your faces briefly before it’s a dim darkness again, with nothing but your own eyes able to adjust just enough to make out one another’s features. He’s sure he sees more than you do, considering his familiarity with the dark, and uses it to notice the way your lips purse at the intrusive sounds coming from outside.

He also notices you leaning closer to him, but hesitant. Your movements are unsure.

If he had a heart, it would’ve been pounding now, surely.

So he curls his arm closer, pushing you into his chest in the process. You tense briefly, but melt into the feeling, and he lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Are you afraid?”

Your voice is but a whisper. “Not anymore.”

There’s a comfortable silence hanging in the air for what seems like hours, but he might consider them to be just a few minutes. The rain pounds relentlessly against the tent, but here, even through the thin fabric, he doesn’t even notice it anymore.

“You’re different from everyone else,” you mumble, and he looks down at his chest to see your eyes halfway shut, clearly about to doze off. “I know you won’t hurt me…there’s no reason for me to avoid touching you.”

He blinks, and you bury half your face into the fabric of his shirt.

“I want you to touch me.”

For the first time in decades, Astarion finds himself at a loss for words. He’s said worse things, sure, but coming from you?…

After filing through a dozen possible responses, he settled on one, opening his mouth to respond, but your breath is already heavier. You’ve already left to a dream world he cannot follow you into, and you’ve left him in a state that he would’ve considered humiliating with anyone else.

He stares at the ceiling again, listening to the soft rhythm of your breathing.

“You can’t just say that and then fall asleep you fool…”

[heirofnight]

meddling, pt. 3

pairing: azriel x reader

word count: 1.9k - i will never not be a yapper

summary: ah, my favorite little adorable pair. part three of the meddling series. reader wants to thank azriel for being so kind to her since her arrival at the house of wind several months ago. she gifts him with a silver chain. azriel loses his mind. fluff, so much fluff.

warnings: none, except for potential cavities from the sweetness.

a/n: this was the brain child of a post that i made thirsting over azriel wearing a chain & rings. someone commented on that post and suggested i incorporate that into this series. and here we are. probably my favorite piece of writing that i've done so far, ok. i'm simple. pining azriel makes me weak. enjoy! <3

read part one & two

you clutched the tiny, wrapped gift box in your hands, your fingers moving to glide along the cobalt blue silk bow adorning the lid.

you felt jittery, nervous. butterflies had taken flight throughout your chest and belly, relentless wings swirling.

you supposed this gesture wouldn't strike azriel as odd, or out of left field. after all, the male had been going out of his way for you for months.

his warm, kind gestures toward you as he sat next to you during your first dinner at the house of wind - you'd been so petrified, but he took you under his wing (literally). the kind, soft eyes he'd given you. he'd served your plate, giving you hushed anecdotes about each dish so you could choose what you'd wanted to indulge in. you hadn't admitted it, but you only chose to try azriel's favorite foods.

then, the sweater. he'd given you one of his oversized sweaters to snuggle into. you'd mentioned to him one time that you often froze, no matter the weather conditions, and he'd somehow remembered that detail - presenting you with the best solution he could muster. now that you knew him a bit better, you weren't sure if he'd actually remembered you admitting how cold you always were, or if that fact was just something he was able to observe himself. he was the spymaster, after all. maybe you were just easy to read.

if you were to actually ask azriel, he'd say that he remembered every word you'd ever spoken. every detail, every slight reaction. and it wasn't because it was his job to do so - wasn't because rhys had ordered him to watch over you seven months ago upon your arrival to the house of wind. no, you no longer needed his watchful eye. you were settled in, comfortable, part of the family.

he remembered the words you spoke because he hung onto every word that left your lips.

today, you sat in that favorite armchair of yours in the private library on the third floor - as always. you glanced over to the large shelf closest to you, a smile slowly spreading across your lips as you took in the romance books neatly lined before you. the romance books that azriel had removed from an obscenely tall shelf that was completely unreachable. to you, at least - unless you felt like scaling the entire thing.

he was so observant. he'd noted your favorite genre, remembered that you struggled to reach that row of books. took time out of his day to rearrange the entire left side of the library in favor of making you more comfortable. and now, here you sat. your favorite novels within arm's reach at any given moment, all because of this achingly kind male.

yes, he deserved this gift. he'd done so much, you wished you were able to bestow him with more. you were wearing his sweater again today, but this one was different. he's since presented you with four more sweaters from his closet, although he hadn't grown less bashful about offering them over to you - even though your reaction is always the same. blushing, bright eyes staring up at him in wonder as you grip the fabric and hold it to your melting heart.

and azriel, he revels in those moments. he can't help the sense of pure pride that warms his entire body from the inside out. he couldn't stop doing things for you if he tried, your smile and twinkling eyes circulating throughout his bloodstream like the first hit of a drug so strong, it threatened to bring him to his knees.

you took a deep breath, eyes flitting towards the elegant grandfather clock to your left. he'd normally stroll into the library around this time each day, joining you to read in silent, comfortable companionship.

and, like clockwork, that feisty, stray tendril of shadow that you'd come to love twirled through the crack in the wooden double doors with a flourish. it darted straight towards you, as it always did - worrying over you for a moment each time it found you. you'd imagined it was giving you a general once-over to make sure you were safe and content. it was much like its master in that regard.

the shadow looped through your fingers and hands, taking notice of the gift box that was sitting on your lap. it focused its attention there momentarily, swirling through the silky bow that matched the color of azriel's siphons - a detail you'd hoped he didn't find weird.

azriel made his appearance a second later, pushing through the doors with a book held under his arm. he moved with so much grace, despite his tall, muscular frame. he was astonishing to watch, even if the action was something completely mundane. tearing your eyes from him sometimes felt impossible, the allure he possessed was almost suffocating - but in the sweetest way.

he didn't even try to hide the fact that his sights were set on you immediately. he used to give a sweeping glance of the entire space before he allowed himself to find you, but now, he looked for you first - and you were always there. he felt any lingering tension within his body melt into the floor beneath him.

"hey, you," you spoke tenderly towards him, and the smile that he gave you made your chest warm.

he approached you, as he always did, unable to stay too far away. his eyes raked down your torso, never tiring of the feeling of seeing you in his clothing.

"i think this one is my favorite on you," he noted, eyes turning to molten honey as he took you in.

you preened at this, making a mental note to don this particular sweater a little more than the others.

"i, uh, i have something for you," you started, extending the small gift box towards him. now you knew how he felt, waiting to see if you'd accept the items of his clothing each time he presented you with them. you held your arm out without wavering, even though you felt a bit silly now.

his cheeks tinted a light shade of pink, and he studied the box in your hand for a moment. it wasn't lost on him that you'd chosen a bow that was the exact color of his blazing siphons. he felt his heart lurch against his ribcage at the realization.

"it's just a little something," you started again, voice woven with a nervous undertone at his continued silence. "i wanted to thank you for being so kind to me since i've arrived," you cleared your throat. "you've really made this place feel like ... like a home," you finished, giving him a shy, tentative smile. he could tell by the look in your eyes that you were pleading with him to accept it. you didn't have to beg him - well. maybe he'd like that, in other circumstances. however, not now, not for this.

a small smile spread across his lips at your last words. a home. he'd made someone feel like they were home, and that was enough of a gift for azriel. several times since meeting you, he'd felt as though his heart was swelling uncontrollably, growing beyond the confines of his chest. like you were somehow nurturing and tending to it. this was one of those times.

he reached a scarred hand towards the box, taking it from you gently. "y/n," he traced the bow with his fingers, slowly tugging the ribbon apart. "you really, really didn't have to do this. i just wanted you to be comfortable here, with us," he flicked his soft eyes towards yours, and you were doing that thing you did when you were nervous - fiddling with your fingers. he wanted to grab your hands then, run his lips along your knuckles, kiss each fingertip slowly. i will love it no matter what it is, he thought to himself, please don't be so nervous.

you dipped your chin at his words, huffing a small, breathy little laugh. "well, i am, az. comfortable here. with you," you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, and azriel trembled with the urge to gently place the delicate gift box aside in favor of gently tugging your delicate body towards his instead.

he took a deep breath then, composing himself, as he lifted the lid from the box. inside was a custom-made, silver curb link chain. one that was long enough to rest right in the middle of his clavicle. small, glimmering cobalt blue stones were hand-set throughout - only able to be seen when the light hit them a certain way. but when the light did hit them, they were stunning. the surface of the gems danced with the fragments of light as though they were on fire, alive.

this made him think of you: the light that found his shadows, setting him aflame.

his breath caught in his throat, and he lifted the chain from the silk pillow that it rested on. he loved it. absolutely, wholeheartedly, loved it. it was powerful-looking, strong. the best gift he ever remembered receiving.

now, you'd be lying if you said this present wasn't also - maybe, sorta kinda - for your benefit. his strong, tanned neck hugged by a silver chain? gods. okay, yeah, this was slightly indulgent on your part.

but, in your defense, azriel had begun sporting silver signet rings on several of his elegant fingers. you thought a similarly-fashioned chain would tie the look together nicely. this was just a product of your own observant nature. really, that's all it was.

...

azriel let out an exhale of astonishment, meeting your eyes with widened ones of his own.

"this, is - i mean. beautiful. this is - thank you," he breathed out, setting the now-empty box, and the book he'd been cradling under his arm, down beside you. he gently began working at the clasp of the chain, his movements so careful, you could tell he was trying his hardest not to break it - ruin it.

you stood up before him, taking a step so that you were right in front of his towering frame. "here," you whispered, tenderly taking the chain from his hands. you unclasped it with ease, standing on your tip-toes to reach behind his neck - wanting to place it on him. he ducked his head for you politely, allowing you to see what you were doing a bit better.

you were so close to him, and with his head ducked down towards you, his chin was nearly resting on your shoulder. you fought every instinct within your body that was screaming at you to move closer, breathe deeper, inhale his scent, touch him.

but you didn't. you held your composure, clasping the necklace around his neck - making sure to be careful of his wings.

azriel had his eyes closed, also fighting similar urges of his own. he wanted so badly to rest his face within the crook of your neck, wrap his arms around the middle of your back, tug you into him.

two lovesick idiots, silently pining for the other.

necklace now adorning his neck, you stepped back. azriel stood to his full height once more, and he peered down at you with a gaze that he fought to keep friendly - instead of one that screamed complete adoration.

"well," he croaked out, swallowing thickly. your eyes darted to the movement, watching his adam's apple bob beneath the silver jewelry.

you were fucked.

"how's it look?", he continued, his hand reaching towards his neck to trace the smooth, curbed chain.

it was your turn to swallow hard, which of course, he noticed. he fought a smirk, especially when he witnessed your cheeks growing hot.

you pursed your lips together, trying your best to think of a response that wasn't akin to a dog barking.

"it's -," you sighed thoughtfully, smiling warmly up at him, "you look very handsome," you stated playfully, hooking a finger underneath the chain, tugging him towards you lightly.

he faltered for a moment, almost stumbling into you. not because of your light tug, but because of your words. handsome. he loved that compliment - was one of his favorites. however, the one bit of praise that always sent him to his knees was being called pretty.

"so pretty, az," you whispered again, seemingly more to yourself than to him, eyes caught on his neck.

okay, so now azriel was fucked.

a/n: okay, i think this was my favorite installation of this series so far. i'm giggling and kicking my feet, and i'm the one writing it lmfao. azriel is making me WEAK, i need to lay down now. let me know what you think! thank you for reading <3

tag list: @stressed-reader @vhjlucky13 @scarsandallaz @victory-salads @weirdo-fun @topaz125 @mrsjna @lovegoodlunaa @lilah-asteria @andreperez11 @luna9876 @kennedy-brooke

let me know if you'd like to be added!

[moonfawnx]

Hands touching, fingers entangling

Nyx Archeron x reader

Prologue

A childs’ laugh echoed in Nyx’s ears, as he strode through Velaris. He turned to look at the little boy as the child run to his mother.

“mommy look, it’s the prince!” he said as his eyes shined bright. Nyx smiled and waved at the child, as he entered “Nightly Reads”, since he only had aunt Nesta’s gift left to purchase, and where else would he find a better gift for her other than the biggest bookstore at Velaris.

He took his winter gloves off as he entered the building, bits of magic already decorating the place for solstice.

He walked through isles and isles of books, switching from fantasy to romance to horror, yet he still couldn’t find the specific novel his aunt had been whining about the last few months.

As he passed the magic books section, he noticed a small figure gawking the novels. Delicate hands brushed through every detail, as if they were seeing such stuff for the first time ever.

He tried to capture the persons features, but due to their long, crimson cloak he was only able to notice long brown hair in loose waves, when the female, as if sensing him looking at her, caught his eyes.

She froze in place for a moment, before quickly switching paths, trying to avoid Nyx’s stare- but no formal greeting to the future heir.

Nyx hadn’t even realised that he had followed her, until he was an arm’s reach away and coughed to grab her attention.

“Hello there” he attempted, but quickly frowned ad the female ignored him, not even turning around to look at him.

He coughed again, louder this time.

“Hello” he repeated, praying to any God that she didn’t ignore him again as that would be very embarrassing.

Thankfully, the female this time turned towards him, deep green eyes meeting his own.

“Hi, sorry i’m in a rush” she spurted out as she tried to walk past him.

“Then maybe i can help you find whatever you are looking for” he tried again, her shyness intriguing him.

“i’m sure you have other stuff to do, sir. i’m fine on my own” she dismissed him again, and this time she walked towards another shelf of books, running her fingers through the spines.

And Nyx had zero clue why he was doing this, but before he could even process it, he was striking again for a conversation.

“That’s my mother’s favourite book” he said as she pulled out a thick book off the shelves.

Doe eyes found his own again.

“It’s my favourite, too” she muttered and then her gaze snapped to his wings, tightly folded behind his back, careful to not knock down any books.

Her eyer widened as she stared at his wings, and then right into his eyes again, as if not believing what she was seeing.

Had she finally realised who he was?

“goodbye sir” she kindly said as she quickly strode out of the bookshop- leaving behind her own gloves which were on the shelf next to the boom she had just picked up.

“Wait!” Nyx called out, grabbing the gloves and following the female, his aunt’s gift long forgotten.

The mystery female turned around, as he finally caught up to her.

The skin of her gloves was soggy and ruined, as if she’d owned these for years and hadn’t taken them off not even for once.

“oh, thank you sir” she said as she noticed her gloves in his palms.

“Please- there’s no need to call me sir, lady.” he smiled at her. “I’m Nyx”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you then, Nyx” she smiled back, although he could see her pause- not offering him her own name.

Enough- he’d followed this random woman enough, he realised.

Instead of handing her the gloves back, though, he pulled out some money, and slid it in the pocket of her cloak.

“I cannot accept tha-“ she tried before he cut her off.

“You are in need of hew gloves lady” he said, before flying off, not giving her time to answer.

And as he neared the house of wind, he looked down, where he was still clutching her gloves, as he tried to understand how it was possible that she lived at Velaris, yet she obviously didn’t know who he was.

~

A week had passed, his incident with the female having left his mind- until he walked in the main hall of his parents house.

“High lord” two guards bowed to his Father.

Rhysand nodded in response, keeping a firm hand around his mate’s waist- as he eyes down the female who was being held by the guards.

“We found a human that has passed your shields, My lord” the guard explained, and Nyx only stared at the scene in front of him.

Only stared- till the female’s head tilted towards him and emerald eyes met his own yet again.

[kedsandtubesocks]

Your boyfriend is missing - but that shouldn’t be a cause for concern… right?

pairing: Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

wc: 5.6k

warnings & tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI. dark elements. roleplay that can be read as yandere like behavior, heavy prey/predator, stalking, moment of home intrusion, fear & knife play, sexual allusions, a lot of licking and spit, finger sucking, themes of terror and fear, feral Gojo, aftercare, reader is called (doll, pretty, baby, angel) also everyone is alive & nothing hurts AU…if I missed anything please let me know

a/n: this is my second submission to Willow’s Haunted House Collab! To be honest…this is my first time writing content like this so I’m a little nervous about posting this piece so I appreciate you taking the time to read and hope you enjoy! Also big thank you to @willowser & @skeletoncowboys for being the best (and worst) little devils on my shoulder to get me to write this

You’re still surprised Shoko knows this many people. But then again a part of you isn’t.

The Halloween party fills every inch of her nice Tokyo apartment. The array of colored lights dance against the wild costumes and you wonder if you’ve slipped into a pocket of wonderland.

Taking a sip of your drink you also now curiously wonder if your faux blood sucking boyfriend has fallen down a rabbit hole himself.

The original plan was to go in matching couples outfits. But once your slightly erratic boyfriend spotted the dracula outfit at the costume store his grabby hands immediately snagged it.

“I’ll look hotter in this one. You understand right, angel?” Satoru triumphant grin said enough.

Begrudgingly, you did. And you couldn’t deny how gorgeous he looked.

White summer cloud hair slicked back, the realistic fake vampire fangs he wore, and even borrowing your eyeliner to add shadow like depth around his piercing baby blues -

He was the dream of every dark supernatural romance novel.

Now among the blaring music and excited chatter of the party your handsome vampire has slipped through your fingers.

Your feet are starting to ache and your soft bed is calling you home. So you decide to scan the crowd for him.

From your spot in the kitchen your attention flickers out to the thick of the party in the living room. You spot Haibara laughing so bright and looking adorable in his spooky scarecrow costume. Nanami stands beside him, simple devil horns on top of his head and a slightly amused grin coloring his distinguished features.

Geto, dressed in his rather impressive phantom of the opera costume, has been attracting a small crowd. He sits on the couch telling scary stories with the others around him. The look of both a composed storyteller and eager listener paints his handsome face even with the mask covering half his face.

Your eyes continue their search among the party.

Along the stretch of the wall lined with grand windows stands an ink blot like figure.

The apartment’s dim soft lighting mixes with the fun colorful lights strung up. Strange shadows fall among the space and at times you’ve caught it playing tricks on your eyes.

Except you clearly can focus on the striking presence across from you.

The stranger wears an all black cloak that makes them stick out against the windows.

And they wear a ghost face mask that completely obstructs any hope of discovering who this is.

The mask stares out so blankly and it’s a bit unnerving.

People chat unphased. A small group even starts an impromptu dance circle at the new upbeat pop song playing. Everyone exists unaware, or possibly uncaring, at the strange presence of the ghost face.

Yet this person stands so still. The mask also seems to be staring directly at you.

It could be someone needing a small break from the party the same way you lingered in the kitchen alone.

Then ghost face lifts a gloved finger up to the mask’s lips.

Shh…

A strange flutter you can’t fully describe rises in your gut. You simply brush off the action as someone being funny.

You now leave the kitchen to fully hunt for your missing boyfriend.

“Have you seen Gojo?” You ask around but the answers are all the same.

“Nope!” Haibara’s bright response comes with an unworried smile.

“No thank goodness,” the same answer comes from both Nanami and Utahime.

“Maybe he turned into a bat and flew away.” Geto, ever the teasing jokester, has you rolling your eyes.

Shoko jokingly even says “who?” when you ask her.

Now you think your boyfriend has decided to be childish and hide in the bathrooms or closet. Because who else would try to be funny and run away during a party but Gojo.

Shoko, with a carefree wave, grants you free range to explore her place.

You’ve been here plenty of times, but now with so many people in the space an annoyed edge bubbles in you. You want to go home. Now you’re having to peek around hoping to spot your ridiculous boyfriend. And there are no signs of him.

Annoyed and frustrated you snag your phone to simply message him.

[Where are you?!]

It takes a moment, but a message comes in from ‘My Bestest Most Handsome Boyfriend Ever.’

Said boyfriend simply replies with one lone emoji.

[🤫]

Another message rushes in. It again is nothing but emojis.

[🤭😘]

Simmering annoyance doubles, tempting to turn into frustration, and you rapidly message him back.

[Satoru I wanna go home and if you keep up this up I’m leaving you]

You’d call a ride or see if someone can take you back. You would leave him here.

A notification chime comes.

[let’s play a game baby 🤍]

[oh so me trying to find your ridiculous ass around Shoko’s apartment isn’t a game?]

[so rude!]

[but maybe it is 😜]

You call his phone. It goes straight to voicemail and you want to scream.

You angrily type out another message and hit send.

[fine whatever, you do whatever you want I’ll see you at home]

His reply rushes in surprisingly fast.

[head home angel, I’ll see you when I get there 🤍]

Now that sparks a strange curious peak in you.

But still so annoyed you angrily close your messages. You’re about to head out of the corner of the hallway you’ve been hanging out in.

So deep in your thoughts, you take one step and run into someone -

The ghost face stranger.

You thankfully don’t collide into him. However, your step falters seeing how close the person is to you.

The black robed body fully faces you, their back to the party, as they stand so direct.

“Oh, uh excuse me.” You mutter and avert your eyes worried as you slide past the stranger.

Not a sound comes, not even a reply. The chilling silence, the looming presence, the dark shadow blocking out the light, it feels like you’re trying to tiptoe past something dangerous.

Out of the hallway you check your phone again.

Still nothing from Gojo.

“Fine, stay here.” You huff out loud thinking maybe he’ll hear you.

A soft whisper of your boyfriend’s voice comes.

“…Baby…”

It cuts through the party even on the gentle breeze you heard it. Quickly you look around, but nothing. Still no sign of Satoru. You glance over your shoulder to check behind you.

Instead of being at the previous spot in the highway, ghost face now peers out from the edge of the hallway's entrance.

The plastic hollow mask continues staring so directly at you that a strange unsettled alarm twists your stomach.

It couldn’t be….

But then again…

You shake away curious and cloudy thoughts wanting to form. Turning on your heels you rush to Shoko’s side and announce you’re going to head out.

Nanami, like a true golden knight he should’ve dressed as, offers to drive you home. Haibara happily decides to tag along. Before you head out, a message alert rings from your phone.

[Come find me downstairs!]

You groan. Of course he managed to slip away from the apartment entirely.

“Sorry guys. I’ll meet you two down in the garage. I think I know where my idiot ran off too.” You sigh and thankfully Nanami understands with his saintly patience.

As you slip into the hallway, the noise of the party fades into a muted soft hum.

After navigating Shoko’s labyrinth-like apartment building you arrive at the main floor downstairs. And of course, your boyfriend again is nowhere to be found. In fact, the beautiful sleek modern lobby is vacant. Normally someone sits at the front desk that is currently empty. In the dark evening, the quiet lurks with an unsettling hollowness.

So you quickly message Gojo.

[where are you??]

No response.

You should’ve known this was going to happen.

The eerie silence, the lack of commotion in this normally occupied space, a strange anxiety swarms in your chest. It drains out the annoyance you had for your boyfriend because now, you just want to leave.

Not wanting to stay here anymore you simply head to the elevator and press the button for the garage.

Footsteps echo behind you and you turn.

Behind you is the ghost face stranger.

Standing so terrifyingly still a chill runs up your back as if you’re staring down an actual ghost, trying to process if this being is real or not. The hollowed out eyes, the deep morphed wide frown, all of it intensifies against the pristine lobby.

Then ghost face tilts their head. The small movement seems so innocent, curious even.

The elevator dings its arrival. Hesitantly you step into the lift while trying to keep your eyes on the stranger.

Once fully inside, a moment of pause comes. It again is just you and the mysterious figure staring at the other.

Suddenly, as if possessed, ghost face runs straight towards you.

Fear rips into you visceral and dizzying. You choke on a scream. Faster and faster he approaches. You shakily scramble to slam on the button to close the elevator doors.

The black robed stranger races closer.

The doors start closing. An arm outstretches hopeful to stop the elevator and terror sinks its fangs into you.

The doors however shut fast.

You’re left staring at the white masks unflinching. The doors fully shut and you watch ghost face disappear out of sight.

The elevator ride is quiet, but your loud heartbeat drums rapidly in your ears. The taste of fear in your mouth has you wondering if you unknowingly transformed into a small creature fleeing from a monster in the woods.

You exhale slowly trying to steady yourself.

The garage thankfully arrives quickly and Nanami and Haibara already wait for you there.

“Are you alright? You seem shaken up.” Nanami notices you with keen eyes.

“Yeah!” You lie as truthfully as you can, even summoning a smile to add to it. “Just feeling a little under the weather now. So I’m just ready to get home.”

That appeases Nanami and the three of you head out.

“So did you find where Gojo went!?”

“No.” You sigh, answering Haibara’s bright question.

“I’m sure he just got called away somewhere and forget to tell you!” He positively suggests.

“Or he’s just playing a trick on me thinking he’s being cute when he’s actually just being a headache.” Your dull annoyed comment has Nanami snorting amused and it warms you.

It helps as a chill air breathes into the dark evening. Softly, a distant rumble of thunder comes. A storm approaches. As you head up to the apartment you already happily think of cozy blankets to end the night.

“Satoru!” You call out.

Silence greets you. So much for meeting you at home.

You start the search again. The bathroom, the extra guest bedroom and even the guest bathroom are all once again Gojo-less. You even check underneath the bed and feel silly when you open up the laundry hamper thinking he could have squeezed himself in there as a prank.

But you realize you would’ve at least heard ridiculous giggling at this point. So, you give up.

Ready to turn in for the night you exhaustedly slip out of your costume and into cozier clothes.

You also decide to try calling your dumb boyfriend again. You left your phone charging in the kitchen and head back to grab it.

A flash of lightning comes, a bright surprise illumination dancing from the window. It draws your attention away for a split moment.

You turn and now before you the ghost face masked stranger stands in your kitchen.

Terror seizes you and you freeze in its grasp.

Ghost face’s presence in your warmly light kitchen reminds you of someone taking a sharpie and placing a solid swipe against a scenic painting. It is a terrifying distortion.

“Satoru.” You snap even though your voice wavers.

The masked stranger shakes their head.

No.

“Sorry doll,” You don’t recognize the voice replying to you. It’s deep warped and distorted. Plus your boyfriend never once called you that - doll.

“Don’t know who this Satoru guy is, but he’s lucky gettin’ to come home to you.” The deep and static like masculine voice purrs.

Your heart drops into your stomach

Now truly staring at the cloaked intruder, you realize how large ghost face is. His broad shoulders fill out the space and he radiates an imposing looming force.

Your eyes stay focused on him but you realize if you move fast, you could maybe reach your phone charging.

So you bolt with all your might.

But the masked man is faster.

In two rapid steps he stops you. With a gloved hand the stranger yanks you into his hold. A scream almost escapes you. But it’s knocked out when ghost face curls around you from behind.

A strong sturdy arm wraps itself across your chest.

“Now now doll,” the intruder tsks light. “And here I thought we could play a lil’ game.”

The gleam of the knife comes first from the corner of your eye. Then, the pointed tip starts running up the side of your body with a delicate leisure ease.

Your eyes go wide as the large kitchen knife effortlessly tracing up a path closer to you. It drags across your clothes, slow and unbothered in its pace.

“You know,” ghost face muses. “You really are a cute one.”

A twinkling glee leaks into the distorted voice.

“Let’s play that game I mentioned, yeah?” He continues.

Your throat goes dry as the knife now drags easily up your chest closer to your face.

“I’m a big fan of hide and seek.” The masked man purrs.

The solid arm that was across your chest now slides up allowing his gloved hand to softly curl around your neck. There is no pressure, just the simple chilling sensation of his presence against your skin. It’s a reminder that at any moment he could tighten his hand on your throat.

“You’re just so cute that I wanna chase ya and keep you forever.” His voice manages to drop deeper, entrenched in something dreadfully haunting.

“I’ll give you five minutes to go run and hide,” he whispers softer and deeper. The white plastic of the mask gingerly scrapes against your face. Your body coils a tense knot of emotions you can’t even seem to sort through.

“And then, I’ll go and find you.” His voice oozes out a rich low confidence.

Then cool metal presses against your cheek. Your eyes snap down and find a knife lying flat against your face. Your heart trips over in itself.

Confused panic now clashes with something dangerously dark you dare not name. It only worsens when a gloved thumb strokes your throat soft, reverently, and a heat licks up your body.

“Get to hidin’ doll… run.” Ghost face whispers.

Then he violently rips himself away from your body and like being unleashed from a cage you bolt.

You don’t even turn around to look at the masked man. Instead you dash further into the apartment.

Your first thought is to crawl under one of the beds. But your heart pounds so fast that any true proper thoughts get scrambled.

All you can think of is the closet, the large walk-in closet you share with Satoru.

Rapidly you rush inside it. You wonder if you should hide standing up along your boyfriend's large amount of tall clothes that could possibly hide you.

Until you spot it - a wonderful carved out space you can crouch in.

Once you wiggle your way in you try settling into the space. Breathing slowly in and out you try to gather yourself together. The length of Satoru’s clothes you hope will work as a cover or even a makeshift barrier to hide you.

Safe within the smell of the cologne lingering on your boyfriend’s clothes, you close your eyes to settle yourself down even more.

You sit in the silence. Tension crawls on your skin.

Time begins feeling sticky and the minutes seem to all glue together. You don’t know how long you’ve been in here or how long you will be.

Then heavy boots slowly march into the bedroom.

Your eyes snap open. The footsteps are leisurely, imposing. Your heart jolts hearing every step.

A slow dread that has been spilling into you like an hourglass now shatters as the footsteps draw closer to the door. Out of panic you can’t help but move your hands over your nose and mouth to keep quiet.

The door creaks open and your heart stops.

Your body tenses up at the sight of the black thick boats stomping into the closet.

Then the light of the closet flickers on illuminating the space.

“You in here, pretty?” the masked man calls out.

The air in the room evaporates as you stay as quiet as you can.

From the way his boots shuffle he seems to be glancing among the hanging clothes trying to find you in the space you thought of hiding in earlier.

A sigh comes from your masked intruder, soft and defeated almost.

He starts walking out of the closet. You rationalize that he must already be bored of trying to find you here. A small dosage of relief fills your body. Your eyes even shut close again as you exhale.

You take a moment to gather yourself in your sheltered space.

Simply breathing in and out, your hands stay against your face to keep you quiet.

Wearily you open your eyes.

Ghost face now kneels before you and peeks at you through the dangling clothes.

You’re thankful your hands still clutch over your face because you let out a small squeak of a scream.

His gloved waves at you gently and teasingly.

Before you can move, before you can even stand up, firm hands dart out. Ghost face grabs your ankle and drags you out of your little hidden cave.

Your body slides out with such ease, without any hesitation. You can’t even process how fast it happens. All you can do is stare up at the looming man above you staring down with the hollowed out soulless eyes.

His entire frame, large and imposing, blocks most of the light from the closet. It bathes him in a hauntingly eerie superposition of a black stain against a sun.

“Hi there doll,” He coo’s. “Knew you couldn’t escape from me.”

His gloved hand reaches out and holds your face firm.

The knife’s sharp edge drags up your body, a slow and casual pace. Your heart crawls into your throat as you lie beneath the power of this haunting force.

It’s simply you and him.

And then the ghost face mask man suddenly giggles.

It’s a playful giggle you know so well that not even the voice distortion can hide it.

It’s the one you hear whenever you trip over your own shoes, or when your boyfriend happily steals your fries…

“Satoru.” You breathe out steadier than you expected. A range of emotions tingles all over your body.

“No.” The voice replies but there's a twinkle in the tone now. “It’s me…scary ghost face man!”

“Satoru.” You repeat firmer.

“Who’s that? Is that your boyfriend? He sounds hot.”

You roll your eyes and are about to sit up when ghost face instead sits back releasing his firm grip on you.

The hand previously on your face moves to the mask and lifts it up.

Even before the rest of his face is revealed you spy the widest toothy smile ever. The mask completely slides up and now shining blue skies stare at you.

The eyeliner he put on earlier for his vampire costume is now a smudged mess from the heat of the mask. It paints him in a grunge like appearance that unfortunately for you looks devilishly hot on him

Still, you can’t help but pout at him.

“You should’ve set a timer. I don’t think you waited a full five minutes to let me hide.” You challenge as you start taking off his gloves.

“Yes I did! I even went and took a few selfies on your phone to let the time run!” Satoru challenges back pouting.

Of course he took pictures.

You can’t help but snort. However as you slide off the thick black gloves, your eyes gloss over a bit. The high, the adrenaline, the fantasy, is fizzling away.

Before you can even say anything, Gojo cries a dramatic sob. He flops down to lie completely on top of you.

“Satoru!” You wheeze as he clutches onto you like a childish koala.

Dramatically loud, Satoru wails your name. He rubs his sweaty face against yours. Yet, his bare hands hold you so delicate.

“Are you okay?” Your boyfriend gently asks genuine, low and cautious as if someone else can hear him.

You nod on an exhale. Your body strangely enough feels comforted with the weight of your protector against you.

Your face turns to burrow against his. The scent of his skin, the soft warmth he constantly radiates, all become a lifeline guiding you back.

The sensation running through your body reminds you of walking out of a haunted house attraction or even finishing an intense scary film. Those types of experiences become a way of facing terror as something fleeting, giving you a moment of fear without truly being in actual danger. It’s why you had even jokingly suggested this play in the first place.

Satoru and you had been costume shopping when he first tried to jump out and scare you. Instead he wore a ridiculous deformed bunny mask.

You simply stared at him bored and told him how ridiculous he looked.

“Aw! Where's your Halloween spirit babe?!” He cried.

You shrugged then went back to glancing at the adorable witch costumes.

“Maybe if it was another mask I saw you chasing me in I’d get scared.”

“Oh yeah?” His voice dipped in an intrigued low purr. “You want me to chase you around?”

“Satoru!” You had hissed in embarrassment and even swatted at him.

Gojo leaned down closer making sure nobody heard him as he whispered to you.

“It’s okay, angel. I kinda wanna chase you around too.”

The true serious conversation that occurred at home after that shopping trip led to this exact moment and you still can’t believe it.

Earlier in the week Satoru had coyly suggested wearing the ghost face costume instead of his vampire one. You had playfully shrugged and didn’t think he was serious.

But of course, you shouldn’t be surprised at anything your boyfriend does any more.

“I still can’t believe you managed to change at the party without me even knowing.” You comment.

“Oh that was easy! I just used Shoko’s private bathroom. I even told her to play along if you came looking for me. She also called us sexy freaks.” Gojo happily chirps, a bit proud, and your face heats up so fast you want to claw it off.

You could never look at Shoko again for the rest of your life, but you would manage.

Satoru shifts now to slide you better into his arms as he maneuvers to rest on the floor beside you.

You and him clutch each other warm and tight.

“As fun and hot as this was…I don’t like seeing you look genuinely scared.” He mutters softly against your forehead.

“You had been doing so good and looked so brave. I felt proud. But when I got you in here, you really did look so spooked.” Gojo continues. His voice trails into a soft tone you’ve learned is reserved only for you.

You had been scared, got caught up in the atmosphere.

“You just did your job a little too well.” You joke with a dry chuckle.

“Obviously.” Gojo scoffs. “Did you expect anything less?”

He really is a terror in his own way and you playfully pinch his side.

“You’re lucky you didn’t get too scary. If you did, I would've had to call my strong sorcerer boyfriend to beat you up.” You tease.

“Oh? Your strong sorcerer boyfriend? Are you sure he isn’t the strongest?” Gojo muses bright.

“Not really.” You grin.

He scoffs.

“You might as well have just taken the knife and stabbed me with it because your words have injured me!”

“Heal yourself then mister strongest sorcerer .” You deadpan.

Playfully Gojo lightly bites your cheek.

“But are you okay… Really?” His tone holds a tenderness and undertone of worry.

“I am, I promise.” You squeeze him firm and tight, even begin rubbing your hand against his shoulder.

“Are you feeling okay?” You ask firmer now.

Gojo nods, snuggling his face closer to you.

There on the floor, you and Satoru decompress. You find it comforting. After such a high adrenaline play, simply resting with him on the floor feels as if you are easing back into your skin. It’s the solidity of reality settling.

“Wait, how did you manage to change your voice?” You perk up curious.

Satoru happily whips out a simple handheld voice changer.

“I wanted to go all out.” He proudly explains with a beaming grin.

“Please tell me you didn’t use a real knife, did you?”

“Of course not!” Gojo shrieks insulted. “I bought a real fancy prop one online when I ordered my fangs!”

For some reason the thought of him spending money on an expensive movie like type prop makes you almost squawk in horror.

Satoru even playfully stabs your side with the fake knife. The poke comes hard but does nothing and you swat at him annoyed now. He snickers gleefully, a devilish gremlin.

His large calloused hand slides up your face. It kicks you out of your thoughts and your attention flickers back to Satoru.

Your boyfriend stares down at you with an interesting gleam in his eyes. His oceanic eyes are like that of a hunter gazing at its prey with a collected composure trying not to jump and consume.

On top of his cloud hair the ghost face mask still sits.

Satoru Gojo leans above you a beautiful terror of a sight. The gleam from the closet’s light illuminates a faint halo-like glow around him. It also electrifies his bright blue eyes. The black kohl liner now even makes them stand out even more.

The dormant arousal that had simmered earlier now reawakens raw in your body as warmth trickles across your skin. Your eyes even haze over as they stare at his soft lips.

Before you can even say anything, Satoru sweeps down fast and low. A creature striking fast, he captures your lips with his.

His tongue without hesitation licks into your mouth with a devastating dizziness. You clutch onto him tight and desperate. He’s kissing you like you will fade away at any moment, or like he’s enjoying his reward.

His lips chase after yours so messily, sloppily and without any finesse. Teeth click and even spit seems to slip more and more around your mouth.

Suddenly he starts licking at the spit that’s coated your lips and corner of your cheek. He seems possessed as he simply licks at you without any care. Gojo slides his tongue down to your jaw and tastes the salt of your skin.

He nips and bites softly at every inch of you he can reach. You’re reminded of a beast trying to consume with a feral want. A prickling heat now scourches across your body.

Caught up in that same frenzy Satoru kisses down your body over your clothes until he reaches your shorts.

Wearily you open your eyes to glance down at him.

Between your legs is a sight that melts your brain. With his holy angelic eyes, electrified and blown out, along with the terrifying ghost face mask on his cloud head, Satoru is a blissful frightening sight.

He breathes out your name, a ghostly whisper.

Cerulean eyes are now bottomless oceans as he kisses your core over your shorts repeatedly. You whine breathless and desperate, wanting him closer. Glancing down, you see Satoru once more stares up at you with a devouring hunger that has your eyes closing overwhelmed.

He fucks you there in the closet. The taste of it is wild, a frantic claim.

You and him end up entangled with each other, sticky and exhausted still on the floor. The clothes hanging above create a soft canopy.

Satoru’s fingers run up your arm tender while you rest in his arms.

“Who knew the ghost face mask was gonna do that for us huh? Guess Shoko was right. This really means we’re really a pair of certified hot freaks now.”

You screech a horrified sound and want to pummel your annoying boyfriend.

“What!? This is hot as hell baby!” Gojo argues back proudly, almost smug, and it only makes you angrily wiggle away from him.

Of course he keeps you firmly captured in his strong hold and doesn’t budge an inch.

“What if we try this again but with another mask?” Satoru asks dreamily.

“You’re already a clown, you don’t need another mask.” You reply.

“BABY!?” He sobs out absolutely horrified and dramatically hurt. You laugh and curl tight against this stronghold of a man.

“You wound me! I absolutely for sure have internal bleeding right now!” He continues sobbing while he burrows his face against the top of your head.

Being on the floor for so long starts aching so you slowly sit up. Gentle warm hands begin rubbing your back while you stretch. Glancing around at all the discarded clothing littering the floor, you spot the ghost face mask. In the heat of the moment your fingers had carded through Satoru’s soft hair and the mask slipped off.

It so innocently yet hauntingly stares out with those vacant hollow void eyes. A strange urge crawls up your neck and sinks its fangs into you. Grabbing it you turn back to Satoru who stares up at you with a dreamy softness.

“Oh?” He catches the sight of the mask and sits up. His curiosity sparks awake playful and fast. “What do you have in mind?”

You softly shush him and gently slide the mask over him.

With it completely covering his face, knowing fully it’s him and not having to pretend, does break the illusion.

However, it cracks open something new that is dangerously raw and hungry.

Your thumb strokes the side of his face where the soft latex of the mask covers his cheek.

Leaning forward you kiss him over the mask. You taste the annoying synthetic fabric of the mask. Yet a wild heat comes when you feel his lips through the fabric. Satoru’s hands slowly run up to your shoulders to hold you as you kiss him through the fabric.

It ignites a delirious frustration that feels so good. His mouth desperately tries to feel you against the fabric that quickly starts to get wet.

Another raw idea flashes in your mind. Softly you pull away from his lips. You think of Gojo and how his tongue claimed you in a flurry.

So with a soft tentative kitten like attempt, you lick at his lips through the mask.

Something wild unleashes itself in Satoru. He rapidly sweeps you into his arms with his godly strength and simply lifts you up from the floor. His lips moan against yours.

“Keeping this on.” Gojo slurs as he rapidly moves you and him towards the bed.

You shake your head rapidly agreeing. The plush bed hits your back.

Above you, once again the ink stain presence of ghost face stares down at you. Your fingers do ache to run into his hair, across his delicious undercut. But those simple aches are crushed against the clear sight of your Satoru as ghost face. You vividly see Satoru’s broad shoulders, feel the touch of his bare hands caressing your thighs so intently.

“I caught you fair and square, my sweet little treat.” Now it’s his voice, unmodulated and clear as crystal, cooing triumphant underneath the mask.

“Now… I think I wanna unwrap you again.” Gojo whispers and it slices under your skin deliciously.

Beautiful debauched arousal rapidly consumes you as you claw at him wanting him closer.

“You like knowing it’s me under here, baby?” Satoru continues. His fingers begin kneading into your soft thighs, anchoring himself to your body.

His long fingers softly swipe into the slick arousal pooling between your legs and a whimper flutters out of you.

“Me too.” Gojo whispers, almost admitting with a quiet glee.

“I like knowing I'm under here getting to chase you, knowing I’ll always catch you and have you all to myself.”

Pulling his fingers out, they shine coated in your wetness. He slips them under the mask. Suddenly the sound of him sucking fills the room and your mind melts even more.

Satoru groans, drunk on pleasure. Even with the mask hiding his face it somehow heightens the moment and you claw at his arm firmer.

Taking the hint, Gojo slides fully between your legs to draw closer to you. He now takes the fingers in his mouth to slide them into yours.

Your eyes close and roll back. You suck on his wet fingers covered in his spit and the faint linger of your arousal. He begins grinding against you and you moan needed more of him all over again.

It's delicious and dark, this beautiful cobweb of desire you and Satoru are caught in.

“That’s it, angel. Let’s keep enjoying our fun little fright night, yeah?” Your ghost face lover purrs and as you sink into lust’s heavenly darkness, you find you couldn’t agree more.

[withonly-sweetheart]

random ambulance leon x reader puff

hehe inspired from my irl experience, read abt it here!

There’s always been a faint, musty smell to Goodwill that you didn’t quite hate, but didn’t quite love either. It’s a neutral, blank scent, emanating from the books that you scan on the bookshelves.

An old lady hobbles towards you, tilting her head in confusion as you pick out yet another romance novel. Safe to say, you’re a sucker for cheesy love stories.

The girl that’s been hovering around you for some time now finally approaches you, tilting her gold-rimmed sunglasses to the point of her sharp nose as she looks you up and down.

“You look nice,” she comments vaguely.

“Thanks,” you reply. “So do you.”

She eyes the stack of books nestled in your arms against your chest, and strikes up a conversation about them. Surprisingly, despite her initial appearance, she shares your appreciation for novels and gives you good recommendations.

You’re just mustering up the strength to ask for her number, to continue your conversation long after you’re gone from the store when her phone rings.

She mumbles into the phone, a few quick words, before rolling her eyes and stuffing it back into her neon purse. You raise an eyebrow but say nothing, wanting to respect her privacy.

“My dad had another heart attack,” she drones, as if this is a normal occurrence, as tedious as the simple task of drinking water. “Nothing serious.”

“What the fuck?” You stare at her with wide eyes, only eliciting a shrug from her.

“The ambulance is outside,” she says. “Wanna go check on him?”

Still half paralyzed from the shock, you nod, letting her link your arms together as she tugs you into the searing afternoon sun. One hand stays protectively curled around your precious books as the other rubs her palm soothingly.

You realize you still don’t know this girl’s name. But before you can ask, you notice a guy, a few inches taller than you, back facing you standing near the back of the ambulance, conversing with a short, pudgy woman with tears streaming down her face.

“Go ask him what happened,” your friend, at least you assume, urges you, snatching your books from you and nudging you forward.

“Why don’t you?” you retort.

“I don’t want to seem weird,” she replies simply.

You don’t understand that logic, but without questioning it, you approach the guy, realizing that he’s much taller than you had first expected. He seems to be consoling the teary-eyed woman, who looks similar to the girl behind you. Must be her mother.

“What happened?” you ask, waiting for him to finish. The guy straightens at the sound of your voice, and when he turns, you lose the ability to speak.

He’s striking, especially with his face dappled in the shadows, highlighted by the flashing red and blue that dances across his face. His voice is lower than the bar holding you back from jumping on him the moment he speaks.

“The man’s going into cardiac arrest,” he explains. “We’re prepping to take him to the hospital.”

“How fun,” you say absentmindedly, letting the words flow from your dumbass mouth freely. You don’t catch the meaning of your words.

His face turns stony, serious, all business. “Actually, it’s not very fun.”

Your girl seems to have forgotten about her initial fear and comes to stand beside you, resting a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Wait, could I hop in? That’s my dad.”

“I was going to say that I wouldn’t assume that you’re his daughter,” he says, tilting his head towards you before nodding solemnly. Your friend casts you a knowing look before waving, never to be seen again, at least not by your eyes. 

Your books have returned to their original place, where they belong, and the guy keeps casting longing looks at them, so you offer to let him see them.

The way he perks up at the idea is so heartwarming, nearly as sweet as his soft chastises of your opinions, of what he thinks each book will offer. His eyes seem to sparkle, like pools of ice slowly melting as he warms up to you.

Eventually, you’re both sweating like dogs under the summer sun, however unrelenting in August. Your father’s calls reach your ears, asking you to grab some of the heavier bags from your shopping spree.

“Well,” you say, fumbling through your tongue, which seems to have twisted itself into a bow and is currently presenting itself as a present to this gorgeous hunk of a man. “That’s me. Bye.”

“See you around,” he says simply, raising a hand to wave. 

You feel the urge to clarify, “Oh, well, I’m not from around here.”

The corner of his mouth curls upward in a smug smile. “Well, if you ever need a hero to save the day, you know who to call.”

His words shouldn’t send butterflies swarming against the walls of your stomach, dainty little legs pressing, pricking, drawing blood that rises to flush your cheeks. You hope you can dismiss it as the heat.

He grabs a small card from his front pocket, tucking it between two fingers and holding it out to you. You grab it, duck your head, and rush away.

Later, at home, when you’re back in your hometown, you sink into your couch, about to throw off your jacket. You feel the card, sharply pointed at your arm, and take it out. You study the number before dragging your eyes to the name printed in bold.

Leon Scott Kennedy.

taglist (? if i started that would ppl be interested?) : @leonskittenbunny @rigorwhoring

[kryptid-writes]

Chapter 3 - Intruders and Trenchcoats

Unable to get answers from Lucifer, Y/n tries to take her mind off her worries. She is soon interrupted by an angel in a trenchcoat.

(2.1k)

I wake up to a pounding in my head and a pain in my lower back. This time it doesn’t take me long to recall the memories of the previous night. The searing pain, the screaming, the fight. All of it sends a shiver down my aching spine. I hug my knees to my chest, rocking back and forth, my mind running a hundred miles per hour. No. No. No. This can't be real. I’m going to wake up in my crappy motel any moment now. 

“Ah, you’re up!” Lucifer clasps his hands together, flashing me a cheery smile, rising from the chair sat a few feet from the bed.

I don’t respond, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of an answer. His eyes squint, my silence clearly bothers him, but he doesn’t mention it. 

“Right, well I got you something.” He snaps his fingers and a tray of fluffy waffles with sliced strawberries and drizzled syrup appears in his hand. He places it in front me, taking a seat at the end of the bed. “Come on, it's your favorite and you haven't eaten in nearly 24 hours.”

“How could you possibly know that? Have you been stalking me?” I snap, taking the fork to pick at a ripe strawberry on my plate. I hate to admit it, but it smells amazing, my mouth waters. 

“No,” he scoffs. “Well, yes, but that’s irrelevant. I already know everything there is to know about you Y/n. Your favorite weather is rainy days in the summer, Jack Daniels is the only brand of whiskey you drink, you chew on a strand of your hair when you’re focusing, and your favorite book is a cheesy romance novel you’ve read thirteen times,” he says with a sly smile.

I recoil, feeling taken aback. It’s true, every word he said was spot on. He must have been watching me for a long time to pick up all of that. 

I casually tuck the fork away in my sleeve, careful not to draw attention to it. 

“So you’re a psycho and a creep? Charming,” I reply in a sarcastic tone.

He smiles a twisted smile. “I guess you could say that.” He scooches closer and I could feel that familiar soft buzzing feeling pulling us together, it's almost soothing but I fight it off. 

Feeling repulsed, I drop the tray of waffles on the floor, kicking it across the room. I don't care if it came off as juvenile or that my stomach was practically begging me to eat something, I wasn’t going to give in that easily. I make harsh eye contact with him, crossing my arms to show my defiance. 

He looks disgusted at the scattered food, sticky syrup dripping on the floor, then turns his attention back to me, the feathers on his wings frilled out like an angry cat. “You humans always were so childish.” He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “You’ll change your mind. in time you’ll learn to trust me.”

“I will NEVER trust you! You violated me!” I try to yell but my voice cracks, still sore from the screaming and sobbing the night before.

“Oh please, don’t be so dramatic, Y/n. I told you the pain was temporary and now you’ll be better off. You can thank me later.” He winks, sending a rush of fury through my veins.

“What did you do to me?” The words drip from my tongue like venom.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it my beloved.” He pats my head, running his fingers through my knotted hair. 

“Let me go,” I demand, my head held high. “I promise I won't tell anyone what happened if you let me go home.” It takes all the strength in me to keep my voice steady. Now is not the time to appear weak. 

He glares at me, disappointment clear on his face.

“....please,” I ask him nicely this time.

“This is your home Y/n.” He gestures around the room, feeling slightly frustrated. “With me.”

I stare him down, hate evident as I fight the tears that begin to well up in my eyes. I'll be damned if I let myself cry in front of this monster ever again.

A tall woman with striking black eyes knocks on the bedroom door and enters the room, slipping inside in a snake like fashion. She’s dressed head to toe in dark clothing with long straight black hair that falls to her shoulders. 

Lucifer looks clearly annoyed by the intrusion. “What?” He snaps at her coldly. 

She walks closer, shutting the door behind her, covering her mouth with her hand and  leaning in close to whisper in his ear. 

He scowls and for a second I swear that his eyes turn a darker red, much like the way they were in my dreams. “Very well.” He shoos her off with a flick of his wrist and yet again, we're alone. 

Me and the Devil, face to face.

“I have some business to attend to, i'll be back in a bit, my love.” He strides up next to me, placing a gentle kiss on the top of my head. 

I don’t dare say a word. Any time away from him is a blessing. Maybe I can devise a plan to get out of this poorly disguised prison.

 “Feel free to explore, but don’t try anything stupid, I have this place surrounded by my demons.”

Demons, of course she was a demon. On a typical day learning that demons are real would be greatly distressing to me, but considering the turn of events in the past 24 hours, it doesn’t phase me much at all. 

He pats me on the head, a gesture that I'm sure he intended to be caring but came off as controlling to me. There's a loud sound of wings flapping and then he’s gone in the blink of an eye, leaving me alone to stew in my own thoughts.

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

After what felt like hours sitting on the bed, running through all the possible scenarios in my head of what the fuck I've gotten myself into, I push myself out of bed, cautiously exploring the extravagant room around me.

 The soft carpets under my feet are black and fluffy, made of a wool material that was most likely harvested from some expensive animal. 

Embedded in the charred brick wall are colorful stained glass windows, displaying scenes of dark biblical stories, all of which starring the fallen angel, Lucifer, himself. They portray the story of his fall from heaven and his triumphant rise to power in Hell, one pane at a time. It's no wonder an egotistical man like himself would choose to bathe in his own greatness in such a way.

 I open the drawers of a black wooden dresser and to my surprise they’re fully stocked with clothes all in my size and style, even down to the specific local shops I prefer to buy from. Some of them have odd little holes in the back of the shirts, but I don’t waste my energy focusing on such miniscule details. There’s more important things at hand.

 Finally, I reach the large shelves on the wall that tower far above me. They’re filled with hundreds of hard covered books, fitted together like pieces of a large abstract puzzle. I run my hands down the spine of the books in front of me. Half of the shelves are stocked with aged leather bound books that are written in different languages, most of which I don’t recognise and labeled with symbols I can’t quite put my finger on. The rest of the books are brand new, all of them are titles that I have either read and enjoyed or plan to read in the future. 

How could he possibly know what books I plan to read? I had never even written that information down. 

 I grab a book that has been on my reading list for quite some time, Good Omens by Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, hoping to find some sort of comfort in the pages. The story did little to take my mind off things considering the main characters were an angel and a snarky demon, a stark reminder to my current situation. 

Just as I had started to get into the story, mindlessly flipping through the pages, a loud BANG sounds outside the room and I scramble to my feet in a panicked hurry.

Shit. Shit. Shit. He’s changed his mind. He’s come back to kill me after all. 

I rush to the door, peaking my head around the crack, being as silent as I possibly can. To my surprise, Lucifer was nowhere to be seen. Instead, there is a full out battle taking place in the kitchen between a group of 5, what I assume to be Lucifer's demons, and a scruffy man in a tan trench coat. He presses the palm of his hand to the forehead of a demon and the light inside him flickers, before the demon screams in pain, dropping dead on the floor as the battle continues. 

His lifeless eyes stare at me, charred holes burned into his skull where the eyes once were. 

Although I feel thoroughly shocked and confused, I use this chaos to my advantage and make my escape. I rush past the fight, leaping over the bodies of demons littering the floor. Their blood forms sticky puddles that squish under my bare feet. I’m almost at the door when I feel strong hands wrap around my waist pulling my back.

“Where ya going girly?” The nasally voice of a demon whispers in my ears. His breath reeks of cigarettes and booze. He let out a low startling laugh that shook me to my core.

 I struggle for a moment, before pulling out the fork I had stashed away in my sleeve from breakfast. I whip around in his arms, using my full force and stab him directly in his wretched black eye. He lets out a wailing scream, dropping me to cradle his deformed eye, fork still plunged deep inside. 

With no time to think, I push myself up and start running, slamming the door shut behind me.

The house is surrounded by thick woods, trees covering every line of sight. Completely secluded. He was smart to choose a place where no one could possibly find me, not that I would have anyone looking for me in the first place. 

I just can't seem to bring myself to care at the moment. The only thought on my mind is that I need to put as much distance between myself and the house as I can. This may be the only chance I get and I'm not gonna waste it. I run as fast as my legs will take me, running on sheer willpower and determination.

The foliage is so thick that very little light shines through at all. Every movement in the shadows starles me, my mind conjuring up all sorts of nightmarish explanations. The pine needles and tree roots twist under the soles of my feet, it hurts like a thousand repeated stab wounds simultaneously breaking the skin, but my adrenaline keeps me moving. The sound of birds chirping that would usually soothe me on a sunny day like this sounds more like an alarm that danger is nearing closer. A world that feels so familiar, yet suddenly so hostile.

The house is far out of sight but I don't dare stop running. I made that mistake last time, I won't allow it to happen again. My heart drops to my feet as I hear the familiar sound of the rustling of large wings behind me. 

Of fucking course he found me! I was foolish to think I could ever escape Lucifer. I’m suddenly stopped in my tracks, unable to run any further as an invisible force pulls me back. What the actual fuck is going on? 

Every ounce of strength in my body is nothing compared to the grip of the force keeping me in place. It's like thick ropes are bound around me, tightening the more I struggle, completely immobilizing my body.

I hear the slow crunch of leaves under shoes behind me as the angel gets closer and closer, approaching my frozen form. The forest gets quiet as if the whole world is holding its breath. My body starts trembling with fear. I refuse to look behind me, afraid to see his furious red eyes staring back at me. 

There's a touch of two gentle fingers to my temple, and once again the world goes black. I slip into a familiar darkness that seems to be calling my name.

Series Masterlist

Full Masterlist

[nspwriteups]

Pehla Nasha | Kundavai x Vanthiyathevan OS (Modern AU)

A/N:This had been sitting in my drafts for weeks... finally found the confidence to post it. Happy reading 😊

Kundavai = Keerthana , Vanthiyathevan= Vaishnav, Aditha = Adithya and Arulmozhi= Amal

Keerthana stood at the return section of the public library, glancing at the news channel in the tv mounted on the wall. She waited for the staff to return her library cards and made her way to the book section. She scanned the stacks for the book she had been searching for weeks. It was too boring for her to use the Web Opac on the library computer to get the book of her choosing. She preferred searching through the long rows of paperback until an interesting title or an attractive book cover caught her attention. But try as she may, she wasn't able to find THAT book yet. She looked around for a minute. Maybe because it was almost noon or maybe it's because it was a Sunday, there were only two people in the book reference section there - she and another guy,who seems to be in his own world - whistling an unrecognisable song and staring at the books ahead of him with hands in his pocket. She was again too lazy to go all the way over to the staff section to enquire and so she briefly glimpsed at the seemingly oblivious guy again. Her friends always called her out on her introverted nature. She wasn't really introverted, she just preferred to listen and observe others over talking non stop. She slowly walked over and tapped the guy's shoulder. He was taller than her and when he turned around she noticed his brown eyes meet hers in a look of confusion and curiosity. 

"Hello. I was wondering if you know where I can find Kalki's Ponniyin Selvan novels?" She put on her friendliest smile and politest tone. He looked around for a moment before turning back to her with an embarrassing expression. "I am not the library staff.. I'm just browsing books like you" 

She knew that. Of course she knew that but still she couldn't help but feel awkward all of a sudden. Maybe he noticed it because he quickly added "But I have time to kill. I can help you find the book". She gave a quick nod and together they went to the Tamil literature section and started digging from the opposite sections. As she searched, she couldn't help checking out her helper of the hour - his olive green jacket fitted him well and his entire body language gave him a laid back demeanor. He looked like a Wattpad male lead character with his tall frame, boyish outfit, silver chain peeking out of his jacket collar and striking brown eyes. She saw him turning slightly to look in her direction and quickly turned her attention to the books in front her. Get a hold of yourself Keerthana! She thought to herself.You are a research scholar for God's Sake! Don't act like an infatuated teenager. Keerthana prided herself in being clever, practical and disciplined -  a complete opposite to her brothers who were prone to spontaneity. Even though her friends teased her for shooing away even the slightest chance of a relationship coming her way, she never told them the real reason she wasn't willing to give her heart away. She had her moments of checking out the cute guys she met now and then (like now for instance) but deep down she was waiting for a romcom version of love - an unexpected meeting followed by a series of chance encounters until the hero says something like "You have Bewitched me body and soul" (She absolutely loved Pride and Prejudice) - that was her secret, that behind her calm,composed and strategic facade was a girl yearning for a silly and magical romance. She was snapped out of her thoughts with a book waving in front of her."Found it" He declared with a grin. She smiled and said "Thanks a lot. You were such a great help". It was true, he was such a friendly person."How can I not help someone as beautiful as you" He replied with a smirk. Huh, friendly and flirty then. "I am Vaishnav. And you are?""I'm Keerthana" She said as she made her way to the book issue section. He caught up with her easily, a book called Exploring the World tucked in his arms. So a wattpad-ish looking person with a love for reading travelogue? This guy seems to be the dream vision of many of the reader girls out there. "Keerthana as in Keerthana Viswanath? Adithya's sister?" He asked and Keerthana stopped on hearing her older brother's name. "Yes. How do you know?""I'm in the same football team as him. He always talk about you and your brother Amal. It's so nice to finally meet you" He said with the same grin as before, looking at her amusingly. Aah, so that must be why she felt a familiarity with him. They exited the library together, both unintentionally walking at a snail's pace, engrossed in their conversation. She learnt that his favourite colour is green, aspired to become a travel writer and was best friends with her brother. He got to know that she was a bookworm with a love for classics, loved boat rides and was as impressive as her brother. They faced each other once they reached the parking lot.

"So.." He began, not knowing what to say despite the fact that he prided himself in being a sweet-talker.

"So..." She also initiated, feeling the awkwardness climbing back up

"I hope I can see you around. Maybe another encounter at the library? " He joked

"We'll see" She joined in on the joke, with a playful smile and a thumping heart.

Later, when she was in her room, already pages deep in the first book of the Ponniyin Selvan series, she imagined him to be Vallavaraiyan Vanthiyathevan and herself to be Ilaiya Piratti Kundavai. Because she couldn't picture anyone else to be the flirty and enthusiastic Vana Kula Ilavarase. And the more she imagined, the more she felt as if maybe there is something about this boy that is pulling her towards him, a sort of feeling that somehow he will come into her life as more than Adithya's best friend. She placed a hand over her heart beating faster than usual at the thought of such a possibility. "Silly heart" she whispered with a soft giggle.

@ramcharanobsessed @dumdaradumdaradum @vibishalakshman @harinishivaa @hollogramhallucination @kovaipaavai@rang-lo. @willkatfanfromasia@thelekhikawrites@thegleamingmoon@deafeningflowercat@yehsahihai@whippersnappersbookworm@itsfookingloosah@gemsmusings@chiyaanvikram@elvenladysakura. @matka-kulfi. @madatdisney@bumblebeeskywalker@vahnithedreamer@nkarti@dosai-maavu@utterlynotperfect@winter-birds@happy-bookworm @tumbledout @anabanana4115 @freeunknownwasteland @bhataktiatmacore@rapunzels-stuff@celestesinsight@mairablue@rationalelderberry@existenceiswhateven@arachneofthoughts@spider5884fan11 @cara-2003 @nirmohi-premika @stella12

[chemos-factories]

Oh I can add readmores on mobile now. Y’all want some planetswap? Have some planetswap

———

Fulgrim walks into one of the many sitting rooms in the imperial palace, nodding politely to Konrad and Vulkan, who already occupy one of the couches, before he sits primly in a plush armchair. The dataslate he’s brought with him illuminates when he activates it to continue reading the novel it contains, but he’s distracted barely moments later by Konrad clearing his throat.

“We were supposed to have dinner last night,” he says from his position upside down on the couch, the little puzzle in his hands discarded and watery blue-grey eyes trained on Fulgrim. “Your highness.”

“Oh,” Fulgrim gasps, “I’m so sorry, Konrad, I… I got sidetracked and it slipped my mind entirely. Please, let me make it up to you?”

Konrad purses his lips and narrows his eyes slightly. “… Fine. If you tell me what was so fuckin’ distracting.”

A blush rises to Fulgrim’s cheeks.

“N-now, Konrad, it’s rude to pry,” he stammers in an attempt to be scolding, “a-and you likelier than not know already, with your… Ways.”

“Well, then, I don’t forgive you.”

“Konrad!”

“Be as cagey as you fuckin’ want, I’ve been on strike before, I can hold out as long as I want.”

Fulgrim huffs and looks back down at the dataslate, but fidgets a little as he continues to read, until finally-

“Oh, fine,” he sighs. “If you must know-”

“I really must.”

“Don’t interrupt. If you must know,” at this, a grin begins to creep across Fulgrim’s face and he lifts a hand to cover his mouth as his gaze darts to the side, “Ferrus… Well, he carried me off to his quarters and… Had his way with me.”

“He what!?” Vulkan stands so quickly his long leather jacket cracks like a whip with his movement, and Fulgrim raises his hands placatingly.

“Oh, no! No, no! Not like that! I promise you, I was… A most enthusiastic participant!”

Vulkan sits back down, arms crossed. “Well. Good. It’s about time you two figured out what’s going on between you.”

“Ah. I was not aware until last night that anything… Was, ‘going on’,” Fulgrim murmurs, then furrows his brow in confusion.

Konrad has somehow twisted his arm around at the shoulder so it’s the only part of his right side up, and is extending his closed fist towards Fulgrim. Fulgrim, in response, leans forward in his seat slightly and… Clasps Konrad’s hand in both of his own, patting it gently with a confused smile before letting go and sitting back.

“I expect you both to be present for the wedding,” he adds offhandedly as he goes back to his reading, then sighs and looks up once again when Konrad and Vulkan merely stare at him. “What now?”

“Wedding?” Vulkan chokes out, solid black eyes wide.

“Yes. He’s taken my virtue. I know Father says religion is false, but I cannot simply unlearn my upbringing entirely in a day, and so I’ve told him I expect us to wed now, and he agreed.”

“Oh, is that all?” Konrad says as he turns himself upright in a maddening tangle of limbs. “Just… You’re just gonna get married now?”

“I don’t see what’s so puzzling about this,” Fulgrim says archly. “I would have been married had I stayed on Caliban, likely to someone I knew even less than Ferrus.”

“You fuckin’ what!?”

Fulgrim frowns. “Likely to a woman as well, now I think about it… The fortresses on Caliban are rather isolated, so either she or I would have moved to the other’s home to keep-”

“No, back up,” Vulkan says. “You would have been married to a stranger?”

“I was the son of a knight,” Fulgrim says, as if he’s explaining the most obvious thing in the world. “My marriage would have been a matter of politics, not romance. I did meet the woman I believe Luther would have married me to, once. She was a fine person.”

“Huh,” Konrad says. “What was she like?”

“Her name was Rhiannon. She was the daughter of another knight, Sir Bradwen, and his wife, Lady Olwen. She was polite enough to me, well-versed in etiquette, literate, and spoke well at the supper Luther hosted for her parents’ visit. We spoke about music, and art, and poetry, and when we attended mass the next morning, she was appropriately pious and respectful. Perhaps a month later, the Emperor arrived to retrieve me, and so any negotiations that would have been happening between Luther and Sir Bradwen would have ended.”

“Well, I’m fascinated by this now,” Vulkan says, leaning against the arm of the couch with his chin propped up on his hand. “What would they have to negotiate about?”

Fulgrim sighs and sets aside his dataslate. “I'm not going to get to read this afternoon, am I? Very well. Sir Bradwen’s fortress, Preselau, was somewhat even more far-flung than the others, but it was the only one with still operable mines within its walls, and produced most of the metals and stone for the planet. Had Luther strengthened an alliance between Celliwig and Preselau, he would have had greater access to the products of the mines. Conversely, Celliwig was one of the more central fortresses, and we were blessed yearly with a great bounty of crops from our farms. Had I and Rhiannon married, Luther would have been obligated to send a portion of the harvest to Preselau. They would have negotiated about particulars and percentages, as well as Rhiannon’s dowry.”

He smiles, and folds his hands politely in his lap. “What was marriage like on your planets?”

Konrad snorts and wheezes with laughter. “Hold on, hold on, no, I’ll tell you, I just remembered this really funny joke.”

At nods from Fulgrim and Vulkan, he grins and pretzels himself further on the couch. “Okay, so there’s these two kids in this one foundry, right? And they’re working the line right next to each other, and they get nice and efficient, so much so they can do their jobs without needing to really pay attention, so they get to talking while bored one day. Well, turns out they get along real well, and some romance sparks up. Eventually, they both make it to fifteen, and yeah, they don’t have to get married, but they wanna have kids one day, so they gotta, to get put on the waiting list for permission. They put in all the proper requests, an officiant makes the trip from one of the mines, yada yada yada. So they’re standing there, the officiant gets through, ‘We are gathered here to witness the union-’, and the Executive Clans’ accountant stands up and says, ‘Hold on. Nobody said anything about a union’!”

His laugh sounds like a seabird being throttled, but Vulkan and Fulgrim simply stare silently at him, confusion written across both their faces, and his laughter stops when he realizes.

“Alright, what part didn’t you get,” Konrad grumbles.

“You had to ask permission to have children!?” Vulkan yelps as Fulgrim tips his head curiously and asks, “What is a union, in this context?”

Konrad blinks a moment. “Alright. Fulgrim’s question first. A union is an agreement between the Executive Clans and the workers that the workers get fair compensation for their labour, and I stop breaking into the Executive Clans’ suites and killing them.”

“Ah,” Fulgrim says, “a peasant rebellion.”

“No,” Vulkan says, firmly, despite clearly barely holding back laughter. “How do you two get along so well?”

Konrad and Fulgrim both shrug.

“Regardless,” Vulkan says, “a union is not a peasant rebellion.”

“Well,” Konrad says, and Vulkan grimaces and wiggles his hand a bit in the air.

“A union,” Vulkan continues, “is when the workers somewhere team up to negotiate better - fair - compensation for their labour with their bosses. We had them on Nostramo, but they were… Ineffective.”

“Yeah, cause you were the only one with a fuckin’ spine on your planet,” Konrad scoffs. “Anyway, you want me to explain the kids thing or not?”

“Yes, please explain that part.”

“So, Chemos had no fucking resources that we weren’t mining or machining ourselves,” Konrad says. “All our food was imported. Had to keep real careful population documentation, make sure we ordered only as much as was needed. Machines needed more or less constant supervision, too, so people couldn’t be dropping off for parental leave willy-nilly.”

“That’s… Horrible,” Vulkan says, and Konrad shrugs.

“’s better now. And at least it was for practical reasons, unlike Caliban’s bullshit.”

“A child born out of wedlock being considered without a father is practical,” Fulgrim says archly. “And there was nothing stopping men from claiming their bastards as their own regardless.”

“See, this is why shit’s gotta be matrilineal,” Konrad says.

“Man, I don’t think we even had birth records on Nostramo, let alone marriage certificates,” Vulkan mutters, then scoffs, “Sure didn’t have death records.”

“People didn’t get married, on your planet?” Fulgrim is clearly and poorly trying to hide his look of shock.

Vulkan shrugs. “I’m sure some of them did. But for the most part, it didn’t really matter. You love someone, you live together, try to keep each other safe. You have a kid, you’re too busy worrying if you’re gonna live to see ‘em grow up to think about any familial line shit. I think the only place that kept records was the mines, some of the other corps, and maybe a couple back-alley rippers who kept patient logs. We sure didn’t have a government to keep any.”

[whitherwordswither]

8:13 AM. I lay on my side, eyes blinking closed, body permeated with exhaustion. I hadn't slept well. Again. Or rather, not long enough. I had actually gotten to sleep without much issue. I just let myself stay awake until 2 AM. Then woke around 4:50 for a spell. Then returned to a short sleep until around 7:43.

It was nearing dusk in the other world. The sky just starting to dim around the edges. The glow of the sun did its best impression of a basin of embers, smoldering vibrantly across the horizon. I sat with Sebestha on his back porch, overlooking the garden. The gold-orange rays of the sun striking through the canopy of trees. A gentle breeze licking through their limbs.

We sat in relative silence, which on one level I didn't mind because next to Seb I felt very comfortable. But on another level, I did feel a little awkward because my brain insisted that I should be making some sort of small talk. His gaze lingered on a patch we had weeded and trimmed earlier that day. It was a lovely flowering vine that to me resembled the pairing of a pothos and cornflower. His left ear twitched and he set his paw on my thigh as he sighed contently and rested his eyes.

I smiled at this, placing my hand over his, thumb brushing along the side. The fox squirmed, adjusting some before leaning his head on my shoulder. I froze for half a second as my mind scrolled through a list of reactions before slowly nuzzling my cheek between his ears, laying my head against his. We stayed like this for a time, our hands trading placing, idly or absently trading faint caresses.

His voice, soft, was the first to break the silence. "I… appreciate you… being able to sit with me… like this."

The way he spoke was careful and slow, almost as if he were allowing a few extra seconds to make sure he said the right words. The wind rustled through leaves. A few birds chirped in the distance. Further off, some low noise from the town as it also wound down for the evening. I didn't say anything for nearly a whole minute, trying not to let my head trip over a rushed reply. "I… um…" I began, but stuttered and just squeezed his paw, giving the top of his head a little kiss.

He shifted again, turning a bit more toward me as he lifted his head, his eyes finding mine. His muzzle so close enough I could feel a slight warmth from his breath. I stared at him and before I knew it I had brought my other hand up and gingerly placed it against his cheek, smoothing fingers along the fur. He leaned a little closer, head tilting just slightly.

I closed the rest of the distance. A mix of curiosity and need or… I don't know. Wanting to express something I hadn't been able to conjure the words for? My lips brushed against his. Testing. A quiet murr rumbled in his throat and he pressed closer. There was a bit of a shuffle as we each squirmed, trying to find the best angle as we kissed. It was a little odd, given his muzzle, but we made it work. We were locked in that little dance for what amounted to an eternity and a split second all at once.

When we parted, I drew in a breath, then coughed and sat back further, coughing more. I had apparently forgotten how to breath and then how to inhale all in one go. Sebestha snorted and began to laugh. "Breathing is important!"

I playfully swatted at him, coughing more as I was now also trying not to laugh, hunching over. He rubbed a paw over my back, still chuckling, until I got my lungs under control and sat up. His arm moved around my shoulders and I snuggled up against his side, sighing. "…I couldn't imagine spending an evening any other way." That may have been a bit out of the blue, but I'd finally found the words I'd wanted to say.

He nodded his head and nosed over my hair, his tail swishing along the edge of the bench. "Are we going to be one of those sappy romance novels?"

It was my turn to snort. "I guess we need to have a heated argument next, then both storm off only to meet each other again at sunset, along the riverbank and apologize."

"In a shower of… limbs and… hushed words and… kisses?"

"Mhm. And then we will lay under the stars and uh… y'know. Confess our zombie love for one another."

"Zombie… love…?" He blinked, lifting his head to look down at me as he raised a brow.

"You know what I mean! Uh… the uh…"

"…Undying love?"

"That's it! That's the one. Yes."

We both giggled as we huddled closer, enjoying each others warmth as a cooler breeze spilled across the porch. The song of birds had faded to a chorus of chirping and chittering insects as the sky bruised in to night. Stars began to blink to life in the inky flood above. I nuzzled against Seb's neck and listened to the still faintly rumbling murring sound he made. Almost like a cat's purr.

"Read me more of T'Jari's story?" I asked after we'd been sitting for a few minutes, watching the stars.

This brought a smile across his maw the instant I'd said it. "Gladly."

So we both rose, stretched, and headed inside.

…

9:13 AM. I mumble incoherently and roll over to face the opposite direction. My stomach protesting. I need to make myself get out of bed and locate some sort of nourishment before I just wither away in to my bed.

[abigail-nicole]

tgcf liveread part 6

moving my liveread of the perfect novel, Heaven Official's Blessing, Tian Guan Ci Fu, by MXTX, from the dying twitter (fuck u elon) to the shitposting haven of tumblr, which hasn't failed us yet. probably just a mtter of time tho. xie lian would understand. anyway, continuing with Book 3, just after the Best Dinner Party in All Of Literature!

originally live tweeted on 3/30/2020:

Xie Lian, baby taizi dianxia, who can now be threatened because he loves someone

HOMOPHOBIC GHOSTS AND THEIR HETERONORMATIVITY

YEAH GET MARRIED!!!! How many times will Hua Cheng have to propose before Xie Lian gets it lol

Yes because when someone normally asks “want to get married” while holding one another in a too-small chair, its a hypothetical

Xie Lian catching feelings

so virtuous so beautiful......makes me plow other people’s fields all day....

Xie Lian, staring at Hua Cheng’s throat as he swallows, deeply upset by the implication that Hua Cheng likes a girl, unable to keep working: Gay Panic

Xie DON’T LOOK AT MY HALF NAKED BOYFRIEND Lian

Hua Cheng, gremlin, delights in teasing him,

OHHHH SHIP SINKING BLACK WATER

now we have a nautical yarn,

Do i spy a Crimson Rain Sought Flower v Ship Sinking Black Water confrontation that will leave our magical girl protagonist scared and aroused

God this scene is so GOOD????????? I’m dying??????? This is the best adventure?????

I cannot WAIT to see this animated oh my god

MAGICAL GIRL XIE LIAN STRIKES AGAIN oh i love him crying emoji

Demon King Hua Cheng oh my god & his magical girl boyfriend

kiiiiiiith

why isn’t I Must Cross The Sea With My Beloved And We Have To Both Lie In A Tiny Coffin, Our Bodies Pressed Together, To Escape The Ship Sinking Black Water more of a trope

What If Our Coffin Boat Breaks, the trope

More like Crimson Rain Sought Flower Crown Martial Prince why did it take me so long to make this joke oh my god

hahaha sexy times in a coffin while floating in the lair of the black water demon ....just hualian things

oh my god these idiots WHY DIDNT YOU BUILD A BIGGER ONE IM SCREAMING

Hua Cheng telling Pei Ming to go kill himself........... legend

this is also gonna blow my mind when it’s animated. Spiritual detective boyfriends! we love to see it!

why haven’t I commented on qingxuan/ming yi romance before this????? Am I an idiot????

an earth god and his genderqueer partner? we also love to see it

oh wait I’m idiot

This plotting is incredible???? (except for the Go Have Sexual Tension In A Coffin which was plot unnecessary but everyone is happy about it anyway)....everything else is so well done?????

AHHSJDJDJSHAHHHHHHHH OH MY GOD I NEVER SAW THIS COMING I AM IDIOT

i wont post the spoiler bc its all mxtx wanted was to not share that spoiler.... but i reiterates this author note is pure evil

MING YI IS STILL HERE TO PROTECT SQX I STILL SHIP IT. HARDER

A FASTER, BIGGER SHIP. CHAPTER 124 ON MING YI/SHI QINGXUAN

listen I actually love the Ghost Kings being friends. I imagine them hanging out & playing cards together in Ghost City

Ming Yi CARES ABOUT SHI QINGXUAN

listen qingxuan & xie lian are gonna sit around & have dinner with their ghost king boyfriendOH MY GOD THIS ALREADY HAPPENED!!!!!!!! I DIDNT EVEN KNOW WHEN I SAID THAT DINNER WAS A BLESSING!!!!!!

a) I ficking love He Xuan’s backstory

B) excuse me why do I now know more about He Xuan than HUA CHENG, OUR LOVE INTEREST, THE PERPETUALLY MYSTERIOUS CRIMSON RAIN SOUGHT FLOWER, I

The way Ghosts Kings (ghosts?) value Knowing Even When (Especially When) It’s Bad ..... excuse me while I pull up this “TERM PAPER Villains and Dumb Babies: the Fool, The Hero, And Moral Complexity In The Hero’s Journey.doc”

Ghost Kings Say IGNORANCE IS NO EXCUSE!

Did I think there could be an mxtx novel without Brotherly Self Sacrifice? The only thing I know about mxtx is that they’re not an only child lol

so, from another perspective, it makes zero sense that xie lian would even be there to see any of this in the first place, even though limited third person POV dictates that we must see everything through his eyes, but on the other hand,,,,KITH

They now make out all the time but never get any emotional mileage out of it!!!!!

aghahaha i take it back I like general pei “what the heck” god bless this translator i love them

Oh no I was looking up Crimson Rain Sought Flower characters (血雨探花) and spoiled something for myself oh no. Its not like i know even a single character in chinese why did I think “oh I should look at these characters”

wait I wanna stop & talk about Xie Lian doing a crushing kiss and then shouting his ultimate magical girl power move “SOUL SUMMONING SPELL!” as a real MOON PRINCESS HALATION moment

It’s a STARLIGHT HONEYMOON THERAPY KISS! I know way too many of sailor moon’s attacks i should probably feel more ashamed but im just thinking.....meatball head Sailor Flower Crown Martial Prince....neo-dianxia xie lian....his transformation sequence....

I was wrong hes not a himbo he’s purebred Magical Girl. they share characteristics

There’s even a Millenium Silver Crystal.....clearly Hua Cheng’s ring....why did I spoil that for myself like idiot....i am fool.

Okay sorry I’m off my tangent & back to Mistress 9, I mean He Xuan,

He Xuan LOVES Shi Qingxuan and..... I’m just going with that

I WOULD ALSO LIKE TO KNOW, SIR,

lol i almost feel bad for qi rong but also....Bro You Can Just Leave.... except we need you for comic effect to interrupt the makeouts

okay this seems like the end of the black water arc and a good chance to break this archive of a livetweet. returning shortly

[strangerhottotties]

Sex Tape - E.M.

Summary: Eddie produced a sex tape of himself as a dare and it's been circling the student body. There was a surprising reaction among the female population gravitating towards your best friend and its got you curious despite the mixed bag reaction he got. When a little cassest tape makes its way to you... you know you shouldn't...

Rating: explicit

Warnings: everyone is above 18 in this fic, no minors. Sex tapes, cream pie, dirty photos, blackmail, kinda? Bratty!Reader, Henderson!Reader. Enemiesish to Lovers. Unprotected sex. Mentions of birth control.

A/N: Because I can't stop listening to the sex tape.

"Hold on, I gotta go find my dice!" Eddie Munson heaves a sigh at the kid who reminded him so much of himself and watches said kid sprint into the tidy home.

The only thing out of place was how quiet it was inside.

"Where's your mom?" Eddie calls out.

"Uh... she went on a cruise with a couple of her friends." Eddie shrugs to himself, content to know there was no mother to yell at him about stepping through the front door and treading on her clean carpet.

He's kind enough to shut the door behind him as he follows the direction the kid went slowly, glancing around. It's a little too tidy to be a normal house he thinks. Not a speck of dust and despite the cat that wanders by his feet with a happy chirp, he spots no cat hair.

What the fuck kind of house- nevermind, he spots an imperfection like he's doing a reality check. There's an obnoxious stack of slutty romance novels over flowing on the coffee table.

"I guess your mom's into fantasy, too, huh?" Dustin pops his head out of a room at the end of the hall.

"What?" He then approaches to see what Eddie's gesturing to. "Oh, no, those are my sister's." He mutters.

It strikes Eddie like a harpoon and he whips to look at the pictures he wasn't paying close enough attention to. Oh yes, he forgot about you. Bitchy, mean, and so very pretty.

"She reads dirty romance?" He questions.

"Uh, yeah, I don't get it either," he shrugs heading off to his room again.

"Is she, uhhh... home?" Eddie picks up your senior photo, letting his eyes wonder over the details of your face.

"Yeah, probably," he turns to a different door and bangs on it. "Hey!"

"Fuck off!" Gets called back.

"Hey, what are you making for dinner tonight?" Dustin shouts through the door. He hears a loud groan and the door gets thrown open. You don't notice Eddie when you begin chewing him out, so he just gets to admire the way your tee shirt and underwear cling to you. He thought the mismatched socks were a nice touch but he tilts his head the longer he starts to stare.

"I was in the middle of something!"

Eddie thinks he agrees with that statement as he takes in your shiny red cheeks and wild hair. He begins to approach.

"So?"

"So, you have to bang on the door like that?"

"You've always got your headphones on listening to that stupid red cassette."

"Red cassette?" Eddie demands, your eyes widen in shock when you see him, and then it melts into utter horror. He's only a few slow steps from you.

There was no way.

Eddie wants to kiss the lucky d20 in his pocket that he just so happened to be here in this exact moment. You can't respond for a few moments, words sputter.

"What are you doing here?" You snap finally, defensively closing your bedroom door behind you. Eddie let's out a malicious laugh. It bubbles up and stretches out with his amusement.

"Oh, my, my, my, Henderson. I never knew you had this side to you, I always thought it was science and studying that got you all riled up." Dustin looks more confused between the two of you.

"What?" He asks only to get ignored.

"Your sister's got a pervy little secret," Eddie sings making your cheeks go redder than he's ever seen anyone go.

"I don't think I want to know," Dustin relents, "I'm just going to look for my dice."

You gulp when your brother disappears and your cornered against your door by Eddie Munson, caught red handed.

"You know, I knew it was out of rotation," he starts, eyes dark like you've never seen. "I kept waiting for the principal to show up because he confiscated it, or for some furious boyfriend to come beat the shit out of me when he found it in his girlfriends radio. And all this time," he simmers, lowering himself down into your ear. "All this time, you had it hidden away. I bet that's what you were just listening to, yeah?"

"It's not the same tape," you squeak out, lying through your teeth.

"Then prove it," he hums, leaning back just so he can grin down at you. "Go grab this red cassette that's definitely not my sex tape and this will all be over." You grasp your door handle tightly when he reaches for it.

"Stay out. I have a right to my privacy," you attempt, flustered about being caught in your lie. It was a futile attempt. He gives another evil laugh.

"I have a right to my property though," he replies, licking his lips. You feel so stupid as you fling the door open and stomp into your room. He's on your heel, crowding your space as he makes his way to your bed with you. And what a sight it is.

You'd obviously been listening to it in your bed. The sheet look as though you'd thrown them off, your Walkman is set to pause but he sees it clear as day, in his very own messy scrawl: Eddie Munson from Corroded Coffin proudly presents: His official sex tape.

It's worn down more than he expected.

You fumble as you pick up your Walkman, nudging the eject button and getting frustrated when it sticks. "C'mon, not now," you grunt. You should have burned that stupid tape the moment it landed in front of you.

When you spare a miserable look at Eddie you find his big grin still plastered to his face. Smug as all get out. You thrust the broken machinery at him. "It's stuck," you grunt.

"How convenient. So do you just touch yourself to every night? Are you that mesmerized by my moans?" You flush, knowing he was referring to a particular part of his tape. Hating that you listened in the first time. Instead your just glaring him down in your bedroom.

"I've never- Hey! What are you- uh-" he looks up at your through his eyelashes, smug eyes still twinkling. But two of your fingers were being greeted by his tongue and your head was spinning. He hums around them as your eyes widen and you realize why he was sucking on your fingers.

Eddie was calling every bluff you had in the most unexpected ways. With a final lap to the tip of your finger, he grins. "Then why do your fingers taste like pussy?"

Your eyes dart back to your door, seeing it wide open. There was no recovering from this situation, and Eddie seemed all to pleased. You decide to change how you're handling this and head that way to close your door.

Eddie starts wordlessly stripping out of his jacket when you shut the door, reading you like a book. "Take off your pants," you demand, making him lift his eyebrows.

You'd only been moments away from climax when Dustin rudely interrupted you. You were still incredibly wet, still in need. Why listen to a tape when the real thing what right there.

You peel your top over your head, letting his eyes widen at your breasts. "Oh shit," he breaths and then starts working at his belt furiously. "Okay, get over here," he orders with a jerk of his head. You slip out of your underwear as you agree.

In moments Eddie Munson is pushing you head down into your mattress and pulling your hips higher. "Oh, you could have come to me if you needed me so bad. Promise the real thing is better," he hums, hands rubbing over your ass.

The door rattles under Dustin's fist. "Eddie? Did you guys get it sorted out?"

"Get out!" Your shout is muffled by blankets and Eddie giggles despite the situation.

"Dustin! Go wait in the van! Radio the rest of the party were going to cancel tonight!?"

"What!? Canceled!? But I found my dice!"

"We're a little busy, dude!"

"YOU BETTER KEEP YOUR HANDS TO YOURSELF!"

"Too late."

You gasp when he mutters that to himself and plunges a middle finger into your cunt. Dustin continues to pound on the door. He draws back slowly and your legs tremble.

Dustin gives up a moment later, wandering off to grumble into his walkie.

"Shit, you got so wet listen to me, huh?" You hear the filthy of it as he let's you rock against his fingers with a whimper.

"Hurry up, already."

"Oh, but you look like a kid with their hand in the cookie jar. Just can't help yourself, can you? You just," he groans eagerly at how your flexing around him, "you're really fucking hot right now, Henderson."

"Then fuck me, please," you whine quietly. He makes a delighted noise and his zipper comes down. You can't see it from here but you freeze your squirming the second the head of his cock presses against you. It's like a balm to your frayed nerves.

"Well, when you ask so nicely-" he starts and then let's out a loud, stuttery groan, "fuuuuuuck-right to the bottom!" He praises when you moan into the mattress below him. You both sink against each other to absorb that first push, soaking it in.

Then your lifting your hips and driving down on top of him. There's a whine from you both when it happens and he readjusts to your dismay. "Hey! I didn't say-UHHH!" You cry when he drives in again, setting a brutal pace, already hitting a deeply satisfying spot.

"Would you stop being such a fuckin' brat?" He grunts, forcing your back into a harder arch, your chest pressed completely into the mattress. You nearly sob as he manhandled you into the position he wanted. It feels so fucking good. "This all it takes, Henderson? A big, fat cock and you go all dumb?" His hips are relentless as he barrels into you, so turned on he knows he's not gonna last long. Especially when he's fucking you raw.

Oh, fuck!

He's got a rule about it. Hell, you've got a rule too. He's never broken it, too afraid to knock some poor, unfortunately soul up when he could barely figure his own shit out.

"Shit, babe," he groans out. "Your pussy feels so good like this," he let's out a little whimper that has you tightening around him.

He can both see and feel you tremble beneath him, so fucking close to cumming. He knows it'll set him off and as desperately as he doesn't want it to be over quite yet, he knows it's too much.

Your mutter breaks him out of his trance but he's not sure he heard you right. "What's that, babe. I can't hear you,"

"I-inside..." you whine, body wanting to tremble like an off-balance washing machine. "Want you to- uhhh, cum inside me."

That'll do it. His fingers tighten on you and he can't help himself this one time. Not when you're so kindly inviting him to do it.

With the bed repeatedly slamming against the wall, you hear him give out a loud laugh. It's insane. Normally, unnerving as whatever energy your words gave him has him fucking you so hard that the floodgates open and your cumming hard enough your screaming into the pillows below. You cum from the sound of his laughter as he gives a final jerk and cums hard.

You feel it as you begin to settle with your orgasm. His cock twitches and you feel the warmth of him spurting inside. "O-o-o-o-oh, fuck." He pants with you, watching as you slump against the mattress. He doesn't miss your whimper when his softening cock pulls out. He glances around the room because he saw it somewhere- there! He stumbles off your bed.

"Where are you-"

"Don't fuckin' move."

"Eddie," you whine, but remain in your spot on the bed as he trots to the otherside of the room and plucks something off your desk. You don't get time to look because he's returning behind you and

Flash!

You gasp, jerking up right. "You did not!" Your jaw drops as you turn to find Eddie grinning down at the Polaroid developing in his hand.

"Ohhhhh, that is quite the site." He commends, voice deepening. You lunge, climbing over him to reach for it. Instead he just holds it away.

It's not like you can even tell who it is. It's just a picture of your ass in the air and your cunt leaking his cream pie. "I didn't say you could take a fucking picture!"

"Mmm, no but I say it's an even trade," he hums, free hand tangling in your hair and jerking you to look at his fucked out face. He's flush, eyes lidded like he's stoned, and he's got a lazy smile etched on his smug face.

"Trade?" You demand.

"You keep my dirty sex tape, I keep the photo of you and your mismatched socks." You blush hard, going slack in his arms, unable to believe the words that just came out of his mouth. He wanted you to keep the sex tape? "Can't wait to show this to our kids one day and tell them about our first date."

"What first date?"

"This first date," he grins.

"Gross, you're not showing that to anyone-"

"No worries, princess. I'm sticking it in my wallet and only taking it out in the event I've gotta rub one out."

"I hate you," you groan, falling back. Your elbow hits the Walkman and the eject button finally seems to work. You groan loudly, then chance down a look at Eddie. He's only appreciating the sight before him. "I'm free Friday."

He cocks an eyebrow at you. "Did you just ask me out?"

"I'm not asking, Munson." Your grumpy face doesn't have the same power it normally holds on him.

"Alright, alright, I'll take you to Dinner..." he laughs, climbing over you. "And then I'm gonna fuck you again, but with a condom."

"I'm not dirty," you snap.

"Oh, you fuckin' are," he hums, grinning. "But I'm more worried about knocking you up."

"Fuck you," you grumble, "'mon the pill." Eddie let's out a sigh of relief.

"Thank fucking God! Look at how fuckin' beautiful that is!" He holds up the photo for you to see, it makes you flush hard. "That pussy is gonna get me in so much trouble." It's Dustin banging on the door again that knocks out the mood.

"Eddie! Get out here! We're fighting outside!"

"Oh, brother," you sigh.

[the-lonelybarricade]

We Find It Again - Nessian's Story

Chapter I: I Will Find You Again, We Will Have That Time

Summary: Cassian has been assigned to guard his High Lady's sister in the Archeron manor. It would have been easy enough to guard a single human, if Nesta wasn't Hell-bent on sending him back where he'd come from. Set in the timeline from A Court of Faded Dreams.

Read on AO3 ✵ Masterlist

“So you’re the one they call Cassian?”

He grinned. “In the flesh.”

Nesta looked him up and down. Twice. The second time, she told herself, was just to hammer in the dissatisfaction she let play on her face. Feyre had told her she would station some men—males, rather—to keep watch over the manor. A necessary precaution, she’d been told, since Nesta and Elain had been a target in the previous timeline. 

She should have expected that would mean Feyre would send him. When Nesta had imagined the faerie she’d supposedly had a connection to in the year that had been erased, she’d expected him to look like a prince from her romance novels. He looked more like something hewn from the side of a mountain, rough and rugged, with large dark wings draping over his enormous frame.

The sight of him in the foyer of her manor was utterly ridiculous. Standing among polished marble and decorative wood trimmings did little to diminish the raw and wild energy that poured from his sharp-toothed grin alone. She’d offer to bring him tea in the sitting room, like she’d been brought up to do, if she didn’t doubt he could measure his grip enough not to shatter the porcelain. He looked like the kind of male who could break things easily—and intentionally. 

“And I suppose I’m to provide you lodgings?” she asked, not bothering at all to conceal that she felt put out by that requirement. 

He arched a slit brow, but his grin did not waver. “The closer to your bedroom, the better.”

Nesta didn’t know what Feyre told him of the other timeline. Whether his grinning and flirting and less-than-subtle mental undressing was the result of a natural attraction or knowledge of a connection that no longer existed, Nesta would entertain none of it. The circumstances were changed. She’d been forced into her life with the fae, forced into whatever bond she’d forged with him. Though her sisters seemed desperate to throw themselves into the thick of Prythian, with its twisted magic and twisted worse people, she would gladly have nothing to do with it.

Even if the winged male standing before her seemed to be glaring evidence contrary.

“Y’know, so I can protect you better,” he hedged, after a prolonged moment subject to Nesta’s cold and empty stare. 

She sighed. “Is there really only one of you? Can you not take shifts?”

“There’s some males stationed outside,” he said, jutting a thumb over his shoulder, towards the door he’d somehow managed to fit through. “They take shifts. But I’m a lot harder to cut down than they are. So worst case scenario, you want me close by.”

“You seem to think yourself very important for an overgrown guard dog.”

Perhaps it was too rude a thing to say to a stranger, but she didn’t want Cassian to like her. Though her efforts were making very little headway, judging by his amused snort. It was clear enough he had thick skin. He was probably old, and a warrior by the looks of it. She had a feeling it would take more than childish insults to draw a reaction from him.

The grin that split his face was as lethal as the sword strapped to his back. She couldn’t help sneering at the sight of the hilt peeking over his shoulder—must he really bring such things into her home? At least the dagger she’d hidden under her pillow was subtle. Even Feyre’s bow and quiver wasn’t so ostentatious.

“And what, exactly, do you do that’s of importance?” He asked.

Nesta stiffened, surprised by the sting of his response. Those hazel eyes, it turned out, were just as lethal as his smile. Perceptive enough to find his mark between only a handful of barbed words, able to find exactly what to say to strike true. 

She only let her surprise strike her for a moment, before she sent him a cruel smile. “More than whatever it is you do, if your High Lord saw fit to sideline you in protection of one, measly human.”

For a moment his eyes flashed, and Nesta thought she might have found the right pressure point to push on, before he laughed and sent her a smile so smug it made her feel all at once like a kitten batting at his leg. She’d never felt so infuriated in her life, especially as his eyes took a leisurely sweep over her body. “He was doing me a favor, if anything. Your face is much prettier to look at than the soldiers I’m usually in charge of.”

“I imagine the only time you get to see a pretty face is when you force your proximity on one,” she sniped. Then, giving up on hospitality all together, she turned on her heel and began storming towards the stairwell. She needed a moment to… adjust to the idea that she would be spending her days with a brutish warrior for company.

As though in an effort to prove that he needed to force a female’s company, Cassian immediately began following behind, saying, “Mirrors do the trick, too.”

Nesta didn’t turn around. “Please avoid looking in any while you’re here,” she said. “Replacing the cracks would be expensive.”

“Really?” Cassian crooned from behind, the mockery clear in his voice. He was so close Nesta could feel the heat of his absurdly large body as though she were standing in front of a hearth. She dared not turn around—he was trying to draw a reaction out of her through the proximity, and ignoring it was sure to irritate him. “That’s where we’re aiming for next? Implying I’m ugly? Your repartee must be exhausted if those are the kinds of taunts you're resorting to.”

For some reason, it irked her that he was better articulated than he looked. 

“I never said you are ugly, you came to that conclusion yourself,” she said, stopping at the stop of the staircase. Finally, she turned to face him. He was two steps below, and still she had to look up to meet his eyes, which were sparkling as though he found this a particularly exhilarating conversation. “You may pick any bedroom on the right wing. Dinner is at sundown.”

Cassian didn’t move. He watched her with that unnatural stillness that Rhys and Feyre had also possessed, so predatory, so unnerving, so… fae. She couldn’t help the sneer that curled her lips. Even as a slow, warm smile crept his own, like they were having a perfectly lovely time together.

“Your bedroom is on the left wing,” he said, not a question. He knew. Nesta stiffened, narrowing her eyes as she wondered if he used some fae instinct or if he’d been… observing her. “Point me to one I can use on the left wing.”

“There are none,” she lied.

He smiled like he knew it, but Nesta didn’t care if he believed her. She cared only that he was as far away from her as possible. 

“That’s fine,” he said with a shrug that lifted his wings. “I’ll just sleep in the hallway, then. I’ve certainly slept in worse.”

Soldiers were made to sleep anywhere they could, she imagined, and he seemed reckless and irreverent enough to actually do it. For a moment, she entertained testing his resolve. If he wanted to be stubborn, then fine. Let him sleep in the hallway. But then she would have to encounter him every time she entered or left her room.

So, for her own sanity, she accommodated him in the left wing. In the bedroom furthest from her own, though not far enough. She wondered if any place would be far enough, to escape the strings of fate that bound them. Whatever forces dictated this world, which she had never given much thought to before her sister wielded a magical Cauldron to rewind time itself. The forces at work clearly had some plan in mind. And even if Cassian weren’t the most infuriating person she’d ever met, she still would have avoided him on principle—just to prove to the Cauldron, or its wielder, that Nesta would choose her own fate.

Though, what she wanted to choose instead… she was still working on that.

Dinner was the same as it always was— a moderate plate of fresh bread and vegetables bought from the market that morning.

Cassian stared at it in open mouthed horror. “Cauldron fry me, is this all you eat?”

“What’s wrong with it?” Nesta demanded, spearing a piece of lettuce with her fork a tad too aggressively. 

“There’s no meat, for one. I’m an Illyrian warrior. We don’t sustain ourselves off of leaves—and by the looks of it, neither do you.”

There was a sharp clatter of porcelain as Nesta set down her fork. Cassian flinched at the sound, likely made more unbearable with his sensitive fae hearing.

“I don’t care why you’re here,” she seethed. “You are not permitted to come into my home and make comments about my body.”

Cassian frowned. “I wasn’t trying to be insulting, Nesta. I genuinely—”

She held up a hand, and to her surprise it was successful in shutting him up. “Unless the next words from your mouth are an apology, I’d prefer you said nothing at all.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, though obviously through gritted teeth. Then he shut his eyes and took a heavy breath, looking like he was restraining the urge to pinch his nose. “Is there a reason you don’t eat meat, then?”

Nesta sat back, indignant as she turned her head towards the doorway that led to the kitchen, as though she could glare through the walls to the stove beyond. “We dismissed our servants when we learned the fae would be frequenting the manor,” she explained. “As such, there’s no one to cook, or clean, or… chop firewood.”

“I…” he seemed to search for words, or equally for the extent of which to test her boundaries. “I happen to know an easy enough solution to that problem. You’d prefer to eat like this, than chop wood?”

She scowled. “I hate chopping firewood.” Then, seeing the taunt that was soon to come, she added, “And I don’t know how to cook, besides. It would be a waste of time.”

“What about the winter?” he asked, sounding more concerned than anything else. “It’s Autumn, you should be trying to stock up now. Will you wait until you’re desperate, chopping wood in the freezing cold?”

“It’s a good thing we have so many blankets that no one else is using,” she said snidely. “And the wood goes a lot farther since I don’t use it for cooking. If I use it sparingly on the milder nights, I should have plenty to get through the winter.”

“I don’t get it,” Cassian said, somehow managing to lean back in his seat despite the massive wings that she’d needed to remove chairs in order to accommodate. He was staring at her like he might uncover some secret. “You have money, don’t you? Why not just hire a woodcutter, if you despise it so much?”

The scrape of her chair dragging against the wood floor cut through their conversation just as effectively as if she shouted at him. Cassian watched, brows knitted and mouth open in surprise, as Nesta stood from the table and stormed out of the room.

He didn’t bother calling after her, and she was grateful that even his persistence had its limits. She couldn’t stand having to explain to him that there was only one woodcutter in town. And she would sooner freeze to death than pay for his help.

Nesta was up before the sun the next morning, hoping to set off on her daily trip to the village before Cassian was awake. She’d fallen asleep listening for his footsteps, or any other sign that he’d gone to bed. She assumed he must have stayed up late, perhaps keeping watch, and would be fast asleep at this hour.

What she was not expecting was to find him outside the manor, bare-chested and coated in enough sweat that his golden skin gleamed in the moonlight. An axe was raised over his head, and he slammed it down onto a chunk of wood as though it weighed nothing at all. She wouldn’t be surprised if he could cleave the stumps apart with his hands, and he was just using the axe as a formality.

“Have you been doing this all night?” Nesta asked, measuring the colossal pile of wood beside him. It would have taken her days, maybe even weeks, to chop that much wood. “Did you clear the entire forest, while you were at it?”

Cassian rolled his shoulders as he set the axe down, as though his hours of wood chopping was hardly a warm up. “You don’t want to chop wood? Fine. You’ll be set for years.”

He was looking at her expectantly, and Nesta knew he was expecting some form of gratitude, but… she hadn’t asked him to chop wood. Hadn’t wanted whatever debt he was trying to create between them. No favor came without a cost, and no man spent all night chopping wood out of the kindness of his heart. Not any that she’d come across.

When he sensed that she would say nothing more, Cassian sighed. “Where are you off to, anyway? Before the sun’s even out?”

“The village,” she said curtly, turning her back dismissively so that he knew conversation was unwelcome, as was his company. 

She heard the soft fall of footsteps, and then the weight of one of those wings was at her back—practically as tall as she was, and close enough that she could feel its heat curling towards her. Nesta took a deliberate step to the side, which Cassian must have marked by the way he tucked his wings in.

“What are you doing in the village? Surely nothing is open yet.”

“I don’t recall inviting you,” Nesta said primly, fixing her eyes straight ahead on the muddy path. Cassian hadn’t bothered to put a shirt on, and she refused to stroke his ego by paying it any attention.

“I don’t recall needing an invitation,” he answered flippantly. 

In a different life, she would have been put off by the idea of walking in the mud, would have worried about her skirts dragging through the dirt. But now she wore boots and trousers, and she’d come to like the morning stillness. The way dew still clung to the grass and fallen leaves made the air feel fresher. She could imagine that the kiss of its breeze must have felt incredible on Cassian’s sweaty skin.

When she ventured a glance in her peripheral vision, she saw that his eyes were shut. The air danced playfully against the locks of hair that escaped his tie in the back, and his heavy lips were parted with a gentle pleasure that surprised Nesta. For all his powerful features, his expression seemed almost… human. More human, even, than Nesta had ever felt in her own body. Had she ever looked like she was savoring life, the way that Cassian did in that moment? 

There was something dark and viscous that lashed in her chest at the thought. She tried to push it down, that envy-coated anger that he would even dare to be more at peace with his life than she was. It was irrational and ugly, and Nesta couldn’t place where it came from.

In an effort to contain it, she said, perhaps too sharply, “I know that the fae consider us fools, but surely even the villager’s inferior human minds would notice your giant wings?

“I know how to keep myself from being seen,” he said with a shrug. Nesta doubted he could go anywhere without being immediately spotted. There was nothing about Cassian that didn’t demand attention.

“I’m visiting a mercenary,” Nesta said in her final attempt at getting him to leave. “She makes her living hunting faeries.”

Cassian snorted. “I’d like to see her try hunting me.”

“That’s the point,” Nesta hissed. “I don’t want her to see you.”

“What business do you have with a mercenary to begin with?”

“She’s been training me,” she said tightly.

Cassian narrowed his eyes. “Training you to what?”

“To fight,” she said. “As much of a surprise that would be to you, that a woman is interested in defending herself.”

“Whoa,” Cassian said, stopping in tracks. Nesta, for some reason, stopped with him, drawn to a halt by the disgust that crinkled his face. “Why would I think that? We’re trying to encourage women to be warriors in the Night Court. I could even spare you the trip to the village and teach you myself.”

Except Nesta saw the offer for what it was. Learning was a vulnerable process, and learning to fight made that process physically intimate. Two things she couldn’t stand the thought of allowing to any man, let alone the one who had invaded her home.

“The only thing you could spare me is a headache, by going back to the manor and leaving me alone.”

He narrowed his eyes, and Nesta thought she might have finally met the depth of his patience. Good. Let him decide she was too insufferable to follow around like a lost puppy. With any luck, he’d go back to Rhysand and demand she become someone else’s problem.

But after a long moment of deliberation, that pinched expression relaxed into an easy smile. He tipped his chin back down the path. “You want to be a fighter? Allow me to train your resilience, then.” 

And with that simple challenge, he’d transformed this strange relationship into a test of willpower. When she turned her back, it was in acceptance of an unspoken contract, one that Cassian acknowledged by walking beside her again.

Neither of them would be backing down. And something about that was exciting.Game on, she thought.

@littleloric <33

[americanmoths]

the DMV at the end of the rainbow

RED

“Do you think anybody has ever fallen in love at the DMV?” Harry nods at the Veela romance novel Draco’s reading — Red Hearts After Dark. The cover matches the blonde’s red sweatshirt, red pants, red socks and red trainers. A splash of color in the Department of Magical Vehicle’s gray waiting room.

Harry’s been waiting to get his flying motorcycle license renewed for … well, long enough that striking up a conversation with Draco Malfoy seems like a good idea.

“Nobody has ever had a single positive thought at the DMV let alone fallen in love,” Draco says.

“Sounds like a challenge then.”

Draco drops his book. He reaches down to pick it up, eyes narrowed and focused on Harry. “Are you flirting with me? What are you planning, Potter? Stop smiling. I’m an Unspeakable. I will figure out what is going on and I will put a stop to it—”

“Potter comma Harry,” the sole DMV employee calls. Perfect timing. Harry imagines Draco tossing and turning in his bed, trying to work through Harry’s plan. I bet his sheets are red. His bathrobe too. I bet he sleeps in red pajamas. I bet when he gets ready for bed he uses red toothpaste. I bet —

“Potter comma Harry,” the employee calls again.

ORANGE

Harry’s been at the DMV for 41 minutes when Draco walks in wearing an orange fringe jacket, orange jeans and orange cowboy boots. “Oh dear Merlin, you’re here again, Potter?”

“They misspelled the name on my license.” As Parry Hotter, not that Draco needs to know the specifics. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here on important Unspeakable business. Business I’m not allowed to speak of.”

“He keeps failing his driver’s test,” the DMV employee says.

“Steve!” Draco swears colorfully and in at least two languages, and Harry definitely Does Not find it endearing.

YELLOW

“Seems we need to renew the registration on the Ford,” Arthur reads off a yellow sheet of paper. “I’ll clear my schedule and go tomorrow afternoon.”

“I’ll go!” The beginnings of an idea start to take shape in Harry's brain.

GREEN

“I will do unspeakable things to you if you do something like this again.” Draco says. Harry’s wearing green glasses, a green hat and the green robes Luna made him buy so they could dress up as The Forbidden Forest for Halloween.

“We match,” Harry says. Draco’s in a green poncho and sage jeans. “Even though you’re not quite as committed as I am. Even my eyes are green.”

“This isn’t some flight of fancy, Potter. It’s important. How dare you.”

Draco grabs his green tote bag and marches out of the office. Harry stares at gray walls and tries not to think about eyes the same color.

BLUE

“I’m, ah, sorry. I didn’t realize the monochromatic thing was important to you. Maybe you should explain it to me?”

Draco crosses one blue ankle over the other. Studies him.

“When I was a kid, I had a blind chameleon. I could always find him. He’d be green on my desk; brown in the grass. Except. He was also eating the grass, and I didn’t realize for almost a month because I was too focused on how he was always the wrong color. I want people to notice what I want them to notice and not—”

He yanks the blue sleeve of his left arm up. What’s beneath is splotchy, tacky, multicolored. Harry traces the dark mark with his middle finger, travels up Draco’s arm, over his collarbone, neck, chin, lips. He holds the other boy’s face and leans forward, finally! —

The lights go off.

“DMV’s closed,” Steve says. “Both of you need to leave. Especially you, Parry comma Hotter. You didn’t even have an appointment today.”

Draco stares at Harry, almost tender. “Maybe I could drive you to my place then? I passed my test yesterday.”

PURPLE

Draco’s bedsheets are purple. At the end of the rainbow, Harry kisses him gold.

--

for @drarrymicrofic prompt: wait | on ao3

[bukojuiice]

this is how you fall in love ━ levi ackerman

ೃ pairing: (levi ackerman x  gn! reader)

ೃ  the entire division of the survey corps are not convinced that you and levi are absolutely actually together. however, it took a small expedition outside of the walls and an abnormal titan incident for everyone to coo adoringly at the soft and loving demeanor that levi holds around you and only you.

ೃ genre and warnings: canonverse, fluff, and strong language.

ೃ  my nav  →  my aot masterlist  →   sign up for my taglist

ೃ 1.6k words

ೃ dedicated to one of my first uni friends, @ryscenery because if the two of us didn’t yell (affectionately) at each other for our love for levi, this fic may have never been birthed. i hope you enjoy! 🥺

Love certainly makes you do the wacky. But in a world where chaos is imminent, war is always looming, and people die to giant man-eating humanoid monsters, how can one possibly make their life akin to that of a romance novel?

Well, unfortunately, you can't.

It's a Live and Let Die world, after all.

But... to the remaining few of humanity who are strong and lucky enough to be still wandering the faces of the unknown world, love is a treasure. A gift only a few can find.

And somehow, and someway, you were lucky enough to find comfort in someone you never thought you'd expect to find.

Levi Ackerman.

The stoic and blunt smart-ass captain of the Survey Corps? Yes, him.

Honestly, it's quite a surprise. No one would have ever thought that someone could shake the world of Humanity's Strongest Soldier. It almost felt like a dream, honestly. Your subordinates and co-captains can't even get their heads wrapped around the fact that there's something between the two of you. Well, it's not like either you and Levi were bold enough to rub it in other people's faces.

Even Hanji, who made it seems as if they were utterly convinced over the fact that the two of you are together by teasing the two of you every time that you were within a few feet of each other, has their doubts.

It didn't take long until a minor expedition outside the walls made everyone in the division finally realize how much you and Levi were pining lovestruck dorks when hidden from the eyes of prying and spying soldiers.

An attempted attack from an abnormal titan had forced you to stray away from the rest of your squad's formation. Baiting the abomination away from your subordinates led you to get lost in the outskirts of an abandoned town. With a terribly injured leg, none of your essential equipment with you, and with no means of communication, you had no choice but to wait for the rest of the scouts on patrol to find you.

However, you were afraid of one person.

Levi knows how strong and how much you can hold up in a fight (Your Titan kill count is one of the highest in the Corps), but he hates how reckless you can get. How stubborn. How irrational your decisions can be at times and how much you hate the fact that he reprimands you for the littlest mistakes. Even if those mistakes could ultimately be the cost of your own life.

Catching sight of a shadowy figure and the sound of the clopping of horses from beyond a steep hill, you brace yourself for another long and agonizing lecture from Levi as he continues to approach.

"Captain (Y/N)!" Armin, a rookie soldier from your fleet, calls out. A look of relief forming on his face. "We brought Captain Levi! He's just behind us!"

"Oh, great." You whisper, grimacing to yourself. "Just great." Your wounded leg fails you as you try to prop yourself up onto your horse, falling back down on a mound of rubble.

You only wish you could know what Levi is feeling right now once he sees the predicament you've brought upon yourself once again.

"Captain (Y/N) has strayed away from our formation!" Jean reports sternly, a tinge of worry straining his voice. "They have diverted an abnormal titan from ruining our formation! As of now, none of us in the fleet know of their whereabouts! Neither do they have a flare gun nor any kits in case of an emergency, as they have left them with Krista before the expedition!"

Erwin clears his throat, shaking his head to try and keep his calm facade. "We'll send some soldiers to scout the-"

Before he could even finish his sentence, the distinct cry of a nearby horse could be heard. As the rest of the surviving soldiers turn their heads to where the sound came from, they could do nothing but stare agape at Levi's fleeting figure cross through the safe area and again into dangerous territory. No one could dare to stop him, after all. There was no way.

All they could do was stare in awe at the dramatic yet sweet gesture of the stone-hearted captain that happened right before their tired eyes.

Maybe now they're finally convinced that the two of you are actually together.

(Levi's POV)

I sprinted through the vast fields with all the remaining strength I could muster. After a long exhibition, I didn't expect I'd have to drag my ass around to find (Y/N). Yet, I could not recall the last time I found myself so short of breath.

Dammit. Please be safe.

I am only vaguely surprised to feel an icy trickle of sweat on the back of my neck and my wringing hands as I hold onto the saddle.

Hurry... I must hurry.

There was not a moment to waste. If there were a titan to cross through these shitty grasslands ever again, I'd have to kill these fuckers as fast as I can. Whatever it took to reach them.

....How unlike me.

I hated this feeling. I knew it was inevitable and could happen anytime, but my body launched forward before Erwin could even give his command. Duty decreed that I should have informed him, but the thought came far too late.

I have no doubt Erwin will conjure some excuse for me. After all, this is what everyone wanted, right? Didn't they want to see more proof of my undying love for them? Just because I don't make goo-goo eyes at them doesn't mean I wouldn't defy everything just to keep them safe.

Perhaps I am being irresponsible... but I have no choice but to put my trust in him.

For now, I have someone more important than anything else, someone I cannot fail. Someone I must save.

At the end of the maddeningly long field of nothingness and stark skies, my destination hoves into view.

As (Y/N)'s weakened figure appears closer and closer to me, I abruptly halt my steed and dismount from it. With all my strength once again, I rush to their side.

Moments later, you hear Levi's voice, whom you had seen off just this morning. Wincing in pain due to your injuries, you mentally prepare yourself for another scolding.

"Keep safe" were the words he'd never fail to whisper every time the both of you are forced to depart from each other. It wasn't the most romantic saying out there, but it meant a lot. Especially coming from Levi. He was not the most physically affectionate beau out there, but these little sweet nothings were enough to make your heart flutter.

Observing his looks as he approaches, Levi almost seems panicked. Out of breath, even breaking a sweat... you can't even remember the last time you saw him like this.

His piercing gaze bore into yours, and you felt as though you might fall into it.

Levi takes one step towards you and then another.

"I-I'm fine... okay?" You puff your chest and tug at his hand reassuringly. "Don't worry. I kicked that titan's ass before it could even get a hand of me. How about you? Are you alright? You're breathing so heavily."

He doesn't answer your question but instead drops his gaze into your shaking hands.

"(Y/N)..." His voice was barely audible, a whisper. There's this exasperated look in his eyes that you can't quite describe. And yet, through that faintest movement of his lips, you knew what he meant to say.

"Levi, listen. I'm-"

---And yet... he did not allow you to finish.

Soft warmth pressed against your lips. And his embrace... so intense yet so gentle.

He didn't have to say it with words; This is the first time Levi has shown such love through his touch. Kind, yet powerful. His kiss felt like the wings of butterflies, beating softly upon lips of crushed petals.

You remain in his arms, held tight to the Captain's chest.

The suddenness of his actions came as a surprise, of course... but even so.

The heat radiating from your bodies brought such a wellspring of happiness to you. You were so happy. So very, very happy.

It was so profound that you wished that it might never end.

"Tch. I thought I was going to lose you..." He trails off, squeezing your arm in slight annoyance. "W-why do you always have to be so damn reckless? Why can't you just stick to the plan?"

"Reckless is my middle name after all." You giggle, the kiss ever so deepening.

You're suddenly brought back into reality when a flustered cough echoes from behind you.

You and Levi took it as your cue to finally let go, releasing one another.

"I hope we're not interrupting something..." You turn to see Armin Arlert, a rookie from your fleet, approach the two of you awkwardly. "I'll be tending to Captain (Y/N)'s wounds... if you'd allow me." He clears his throat, clearly intimidated by the cold and striking facade emanating from Levi.

"Captain Erwin sent us." Mikasa added stoically. Ah yes, the ever so tactful commander.

"Were you brats watching?"

"No! Of course not!" Jean, Sasha, and Connie who were lagging from behind, dismiss Levi's claims with a dramatic wave of their hands. "We totally weren't-"

Levi sighs, "Look. Even if you were, I wouldn't get mad." There's a slight blush that slowly creeps on his face yet quickly fades away. "Just... don't get into details once Hanji or Erwin tries to bug you about it, alright?"

"Yes, Captain!"

"Thank you for coming to pick us up." You smile weakly as you let Armin kneel to tend to your wounds. "Who knows what could have happened if we were left here alone?" You nudge Levi's shoulder suggestively."

He smirks, chuckling to himself. "If we were, then they'll finally have more proof that the two of us are actually together, won't they?"

taglist: @crapimahuman @hu-tao-main @smg-valeria​ @moonless-abyss @midnightangelfox @dukina @chibishae34 @arvinrusselisbae @kenmakeii  @eissaaaa @yummyyumi​ @the-one-that-lurks @prxttyguardian

[latenightdecaf]

Entry 7 - Summer of Vulnerability

part of let the pile of good things grow series - series masterlist

previous entry here

Yoongi x reader

Ft. nonidol!bts (glimpse of ex-boyfriend!namjoon)

Producer!yoongi, roommate!yoongi, soft!yoongi

slow burn romance, friendship, slice of life

series of drabbles/one shots

warnings: alcohol consumption

a/n: okay so here goes y/n remembering his ex!joon also will never get over of in the soop yoongi! can’t wait for the new season. Thank you guys for reading! 🙈

word count: 2,546

Went home from the grocery and some of their wines are on sale so you got carried away and bought 8 bottles and to your surprise, Yoongi’s cooking steak. “oh my God!” You exclaimed as soon as you saw him cooking in the kitchen with paperbag of wines in your arms. Yoongi looked at you with a confused face.

“Did you just read my mind or what??! There’s a sale on the corner deli and…” raising both of your hands as if surrendering, “okay don’t judge me yet but i got a little carried away.”

“A little carried away? You looked like the world’s going to run out of wine tomorrow.”

He smiled on your disclaimer and shaking his head as he paid his attention back to his steak.

“No.” You sighed. “Nothing went my way today, not at all—but i dont want to think about it. I’m psyching myself out of it you see, or better yet i’m drowning myself on these babies.” As you drank your first glass empty. “My eternal companion, the love of my life…”

He turned to your direction, only to see you hugging the bottles of wine that you bought.

He turned to your direction, only to see you hugging the bottles of wine that you bought.

“Come on clear the tables, your babies are not going anywhere.” He declared as he puts down 3 steaks and some aglio olio with honestly way too much garlic because it’s Yoongi.

“I didn’t saw you made pasta also. I am so happy now.” You happily exclaimed as you took a bite of your new favorite steak. “But why the 3 steaks? You hungry?”

He sat in front of you, filling your glass with wine and his too.

“You need food before you chug them all up. I’m not gonna clean up your mess. So you better get it together today. I tell you.” He scolded you.

“Sure sure.” As you immediately devour the pasta he made.

One bottle of wine down. He let you listened to a ‘sketch’ he’s been working on lately. Carefully studying your already flushed face for any reaction. He does this sometimes, ask for your opinion even though you have zero idea about music and producing or anything related to that for that matter.

All he considers is whether you winced at the melody of it, or you nod and eventually smile as it goes. But this time you’re just staring blankly in your wine glass, circling it repeatedly as the sketch ended at exactly 2 mins and 19 secs. And when it ended you looked straight at him.

“This looks like it’s almost done right?” You commented. “Yeah.” As he gulps on his wine, emptying another glass.

“And you wrote the lyrics also?” He nodded.

You looked away and sighed. “It’s too beautiful—Sad and in pain, feels tormented also but beautiful.”

He blinked several times at your words. You’ve heard several of his sketches before and you’d just always say, ‘it sounds good, but Yoongi—i have no idea about music. Zero.’ But he’d let you hear it anyway for couple more times and he’d smile at your ignorant reactions.

This time however, doesn’t seem like a laughing matter. Something about your words got his heart beating faster and he has no idea if its just the amount of alcohol he has consumed by now or just you.

You clinked on his empty glass. And asked, “You want more?” He nodded. And you poured him another. “Remember the girl, I introduced to you before?” You stopped and think for a second and it dawned to you. “Hell yeah, I remember.”

“She’s actually my ex-girlfriend.” He declared.

“Well that I did not expected. The ex part. I can tell though she looks really special.”

“Well, we’re together for a while. But now we’re just co-workers for this debut song of a girl I told you about before. That’s why she was here also the last time, we were looking through old sketches that I have after the meeting. We actually finished that quite early. ”

He never really talked that much about himself. He’s good at talking about work, which for you is already more than enough. You know that despite your living situation, he’s not really obligated to get personal if he doesnt want to. And besides, you also don’t want to. Your end of the rope for sure is scared of any form of vulnerability anyway—so you’re not expecting or demanding that from anybody else.

“So you’re just co-workers now?”

“Yeah, I think so. I really don’t know what I feel.”

“Well, relationships are messy my friend.” Raising your glass of wine as if to cheers and chugging it in one go.

Not sure of what to say next but he looks like he’s in mood to talk but the topic looks too sensitive to even crack a joke so you continued drinking despite the eerie atmosphere.

“If you dont mind me asking, what happened?” Yes, despite your immense effort to hold yourself back. Like any other novel you read, you have this eager feeling to know how it ends. Your mind is literally shouting, ‘But I gots to know!!’

And so you asked. Half fearing for your life for being too nosy and half expecting that you might be up for a good story. Elbows resting on the table, with your chin at the palm of your hand looking eager to hear the story.

“We’ve been together for a while”

“Yeah, you said that already.. and that she’s a song writer. I figured.” Unconsciously saying your thoughts out loud.

“You wanna tell the story instead?” He teasingly reacted in a straight face.

“I didn’t mean to say that out loud… I literally said that in my mind and my mouth just burst it open. They both can’t coordinate that well. I’m sorry. You may continue…sir. Please don’t cut my head off.” You love teasing him.

“You’re drunk.” He was pointing out the obvious by that time, after two bottles of wine.

“Yes she’s a songwriter. They said before thay she’s the words to my melody. Well… before.”

Something about those words just made your heart ache. Frowning in his words you continue to listen.

“We’re together for about 2 years? And then on and off after…. She cheated on me, slept with another producer from another company. I really thought that was the end but after that i still accepted her. I don’t know why.”

“Aigoo you dumbass solider of love. And then??” Continuously frowning in frustration led you to keep on drinking.

He has no plans of actually telling this story tonight, it just poured out. You’re just one of those people that actually listens. He has seen you before, how intensely you focus on a movie or in a book that it bothers you for day. You love hearing stories and your willingness felt like a safe space for his unspoken scars.

“She keeps coming back to me and I keep accepting her. That’s it.”

With a confused look on your face, “I don’t get it.”

“Like you said, relationships are messy.” He’s obviously trying to close the topic already but that’s not going to stop you—you never stop midway of the story. This is not how it ends.

“Messy is one thing, toxic is another. And since when are you a coward? You don’t strike me as one. Really.” ‘Yeah i was.’ Yoongi thought in his head. Words are just literally pouring out of your mouth by now, drowning yet another glass. Yoongi opening your forth bottle.

“Boy, I bought the wrong alcohol tonight, tequila would’ve been perfect.” You declared as he pours you a refill. He laughed at this comment, he kept wondering sometimes how easy it is for you to make him laugh.

“No but all kidding aside… Hard question coming in, Min Yoongi. Do you still love her?” Looking right at his eyes and him staring back at you as he answered. “No, we broke up a month before I moved in here.”

‘That’s quite a while, at least 9 or 10 months now…’ you thought to yourself

“Yeah but having been broken up doesn’t mean that love is gone. It’s not a switch you know.”

“I know. And I wish it was, she’s was a big part of my life I’m not denying that and maybe she always will be. But I’ve changed, she has changed—we’re no longer the same people that we were in the same relationship where I keep questioning my self worth. That’s done now, over. Love took a turn, and it doesn’t look the same anymore. We’re just co-workers now that’s all.”

You like the way he said it. Being no longer the same people that they were. You nodded in his statement not sure what to say next and also feeling a little dizzy.

“I gotta pee.” You suddenly declared and stood up, ran in small steps to the bathroom with Yoongi smiling at you and shaking his head.

And when you got back, he got you a warm water on your favorite mug.

Your thoughts are all over the place when you’re drunk, like you said—your mouth just spills it all out.

“You know what, this is all very brave of you. Being friends with your ex, I can’t imagine.”

“Why? Can’t you?” Staring blankly and holding onto your mug, eyes blinking fast in this question.

“I’m not sure. I’ve never really done it before, I’ll let you know if I can.”

You’ve been staring hard on your mug contemplating on his question. He gently touched your hand that’s been holding your mug and said, “Just drink your water.” And pulled it away as soon as you looked like your soul has comeback to earth.

“Can’t I…?” You repeated the question again, and this time out loud.

Hands underneath your chin and resting your elbows on the table. Yoongi is just staring at you, hands in his cheeks—thumb underneath his chin, not even sure if you can even see him. “I hate your question.” You looked at his eyes this time and said that and he just smiled and when he did, you narrowed your eyes. “I hate your smile too.” And this time, he gave you an even bigger one, those gummy smile. And whenever he smiles at you like that you just can’t help but grin in return.

You chugged the water and showed him your empty mug.

He got up and put the rest of the unopened bottle of wine back to the fridge just to prevent you from opening yet another. With his back facing you, arranging the couple of bottles left unto your fridge.

“Yoongi-ah, I know and I love how we respect each other’s privacy and all but just in case things get too heavy. I’m always here, you know. I mean, I’m really glad about today.”

He looked back at you, hands underneath your chin again and eyelids looking all heavy.

“Same goes for you, I’m always here…” And he turned his back again, “fixing you some food and light bulbs.”

And that statement made you smile. “Indeed, my friend. Indeed.”

He went back to the table and grabbed your wine glass and emptying it for you.

“So you wanna talk about how nothing went right today?” You sighed with your eyes closed.

“Maybe next time, my friend.” You stood up from the dinning table, offered to clean the rest of the dishes but Yoongi insisted that he’d do it instead. So you just nodded and slowly creep back into your room.

“Thanks for today, Yoongi.” You thanked him before you go, peeking behind the wall near the counter and he just smiled at you, cleaning gloves on and started washing the dishes.

Minutes later, you shouted from inside of your room.

“Hey i’ll be in the bathroom for a while. Hope you’re already done using it.”

Yoongi didnt answer. He’s already in his room.

You sat in the tub filled with water that is too hot for anyone else but not for you. Head all dizzy and pounding. It’s 2 am and nothing is more comforting than the silence of it all. Alcohol keeps you awake, more than coffee ever does. The dizziness, the feeling that is drilling in your head, makes it hard for you to sleep. Despite the fact that you always drink. You always drink on an empty stomach though, just so you’re sure you would pass out and not have a hard time sleeping.

But tonight you can’t say no—Yoongi made dinner and as much as you hate how you’re having a hard time now you don’t regret it. The question he said, still lingers. And you know your answer to this, you can’t.

Along with the headache, comes the memories you rarely remember—there are just some special days where somehow the guilt and regret still comes to you in waves, together with conversations you long to let go.

“You can’t be serious?” Joon said, voice cracking with hand on his hair in frustration. “But I am.” With a straight face you answered, “I can’t marry you, Joon. I don’t want to have kids and I know how much you want to have children.” Feeling the desperation in his face and actions, he held your hands close and hugged you. “I love you, I want to marry you. We don’t need to have kids immediately, that’s years away. We don’t have to even worry about that now.” It hurts you to seem him this way, yes both of you may be young—maybe you will change your mind but there’s no guarantee to it. You held onto his shoulder to see his face, tears kept rolling down his face and you keep wiping it off one by one. You’ve thought about this even just a year into the relationship, with all the dad jokes and tiny little shoes he kept in his room. He’s going to be a wonderful dad you thought—maybe not just to your kids because you don’t want one.

The most wonderful man in the world just asked you to marry him a few minutes ago, and now he’s crying on your shoulder in defeat. While you can’t even bring yourself to cry, everything about this just made you numb. You just know you’re doing the right thing. Keeping him by your side with a promise of a future you can’t guarantee is not what love is. You loved him—even much so that you could ever admit.

With the knock on the door, you went back to reality.

“Hey you in there?” His voice echoing at 2 in the morning.

“Yeah, I’ll be here still for a while. You need it?”

“No, it’s okay.” He quietly said, as you heard his footsteps getting farther away.

moodboard sr: x