#the only way i can see myself not being depressed out of my fucking mind all summer is if i get lucky and the library accepts my application

[abbyromanoff]

YOU’LL ALWAYS BE MINE

PAIRINGS: Wanda Maximoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 2,475

WARNINGS: angst, cheating, divorce, depression, fluff, mind manipulation, the hex being created, pregnancy, kinda dark, think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Wanda hummed as the flavors hit her taste buds, her eyes directed at you as she smiled warmly.

“How do you like the dinner, sweetheart?” You grinned beneath the fork inside your mouth, instantly returning your lips back to a thin line when her eyes left you.

“Well, I hope you’d like it, I spent many hours prepping this.” She chuckled, giving your hand a squeeze from across the table. You still didn’t utter a word, she was growing concerned.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You shrugged, nervously playing with your food as you bit the inside of your cheek, a habit you started and failed to stop, much to Wanda’s liking.

“C’mon, you can talk to me, that’s what I’m here for.” You looked up, noticing her intense gaze that showed she knew exactly what you were going to say.

“You still haven’t signed the papers.” Her body tensed, her eyes shutting as she sighed. Her hand balled into a tight fist as she continued to eat. She could see you were lacking the ring on your finger, the sight making her want to crawl into a corner and cry her eyes out. There was no way out of this, she realized, so she had to make one.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“My fucking God, Wanda,” You slammed your hands down, standing as you paced urgently. She refused to look, instead finding her meal all the more interesting.

“You’re pathetic, you know that? You can’t sign some fucking papers, really? This marriage has been ruined the moment you slept with that tramp.” The realization made her throat tighten, tears nearly ready to spill from her loopy eyes.

“I told you it was a mistake, it meant nothing-”

“That doesn’t stop the fact that it happened, Wanda! Do you think it’s easy for me to have to live here daily? To see you and constantly be reminded of what you did? I worked so hard to even convince myself I was worthy of you, and you go and do this?” She cowered down, wiping her hands on the small cloth in her lap while you stared at her, nostrils flared and eyebrows furrowed.

“I’m sorry-”

“Sorry doesn’t fix what you did-”

“God, will you let me fucking speak?” She yelled, growing frustrated with the constant interruption. You didn’t refute, instead placing your hands on your hips as you waited for her voice to return.

“I told you, I was drunk and she looked so much like you. We were fighting, I was upset, you were too, so I went out and got wasted to the point I could barely walk. I saw her there and I…I let her take me home, but when I woke up I- I realized what I did and I knew I fucked up.”

“Yeah, you did.” You already heard the story before, the same one that haunted you in your dreams. You imagined someone else being able to hear the moans she promised were only for you, it made you violently ill.

“I made a promise to you, and I plan to keep it. I will never, and I mean never, touch a drink again. I won’t even look in another woman’s direction because I don’t need to when I have my wife right in front of me. My perfect, breathtaking, loving wife that I care for so much.” She wrapped her arms around your waist as she dropped to her knees, placing her forehead against your thigh.

“Please, baby, I don’t know how many times I have to apologize before you forgive me, but I’ll continue to tell you for the rest of my life.” She placed small kisses against the covered skin, feeling the warmth that you supplied, the same warmth that brought her comfort at night. Now it brought her shame and guilt, but she’d rather carry that burden for the rest of her life than lose you for even a moment.

“I don’t want to have to be reminded of what you did for the rest of my life, Wanda. I’m constantly having someone down my ear telling me how terrible you are, and how I should never forgive you. For fucks sake, even our friends have told me to leave you! How am I going to look them in the eye again knowing all they see is someone who’s too gullible to even leave their cheating wife?” You sobbed, and the look on your face only brought misery to the woman. You seemed so lost, so exhausted, and she was the cause.

“I know, I know, and none of this is fair to you, and I’m so sorry I caused this-”

“Stop saying sorry. Please, I can’t do this.” You begged, your voice cracking as you drew more emotions.

“But I mean it! I never want you to feel like I don’t want you because I want you more than anything. I need you, Y/N, I need you in my life.” It was true, she didn’t know how to properly function without you. You were the only one who kept her going, you were the one who held her when she felt like she couldn’t stand. When she was ready to give up, she had you holding her back. Without you, she’d be nothing.

“You say you need me, but you don’t consider what I need. And what I need is for you to let me go, and sign the papers.” You wanted to give in, to fall into her embrace and let her make it up to you. But you couldn’t, your mind would never let you forget the scene you walked in on. And maybe you’d still remember it vividly without her, but at least you wouldn’t have to be in the exact place it happened with the person who did it. At least you could move on and find someone who wouldn’t hurt you like this, intoxicated or not.

“No- no, I won’t do it.” Tear stains painted your shirt from where her head rested, you knew you’d have to throw this out sooner than later.

“Wanda, please, just do it.” You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing yourself to ignore her pleas.

“But-”

“I’m begging you, Wanda. If you truly loved me, you’d want me to be happy.” She rushed towards you when you tried to escape her tight hold.

“You’re happier with me-”

“I can’t be happy with you, not when I can’t stop thinking about what you did. It ruined me, Wands, and it continues to haunt me every breathing moment.” The nickname brought a crack to her rotting heart. Her body felt like it was decaying the more you pulled away and the more she tried to hold on.

“You’re going to sign the papers. And then I’ll be gone. This is best for the both of us, you’ll learn to live without me.” She felt as though she was going to be sick, why were you still denying her? She couldn’t let you go. No, she couldn’t.

You leaned down to her level, moving the hair that covered her face out of the way. You cupped her cheeks, smiling sadly as her sobs caused her hands to shake lightly. She reached out hopefully, copying your action and bringing herself closer.

“Can I- can I have one last kiss, at least?” You looked down, sighing as you shook your head before returning her gaze.

“If I kiss you, I don’t think either of us will be able to stop.”

“That’s not a bad thing, is it?” You chuckled, and it felt like music to her ears. She smiled warmly, even though her chest tightened and her breath cut short.

“I love you, Wanda, I always will. Maybe we were just never meant to be, and that’s okay. But if I don’t let you go now, I’ll never be able to be happy.” But you could’ve been meant to be, she realized. You could’ve been the best, most loving couple. Your kids would’ve grown up in a healthy, safe household full of love. But that all came to an end when that night left her hopeless, she pleaded with God constantly to rid her actions but they were never heard.

“I love you too, Y/N, and I want you to be happy, I just wish I could’ve been the reason.”

“You were.” The past tense was what caused her body to crash into yours. She lost all control as your arms brought her a sense of comfort she lacked for so long.

“I’m sorry I failed you.”

In a few months, the divorce was being settled and you officially moved out. You had been staying with a friend for some time, and she was more than happy to help you out. She had been in a similar situation before, so it was clear what she had to do when she saw you standing on her front porch. Wanda thought she would be able to see you when you would gather your stuff from her place, but a multitude of your friends went instead, all of them giving glares to the older woman as she refused to look at the empty home. It seemed wrong without your stuff here, and all she had were pictures of the two of you that she couldn’t remove.

She felt hopeless as time progressed, and the lack of messages or calls from you only made time move slower. Every day felt like a decade as she failed to execute basic human needs. She often struggled to get out of bed or brush her teeth, and now it’s been two days since she last showered. She wondered how you were, she hoped you weren’t in such a horrid state like herself. But a part of her also hoped you were, just so she knew you still cared.

Eventually, it all became too much. She hadn’t slept in her bed in over a year, the constant reminder that another laid where you once were disgusted her. The couch had become her home, but even the couch seemed to shame her. Her favorite movies didn’t feel the same without you laughing with her. The sitcoms she loved so much now annoyed her; she had changed completely, and it was all her fault.

She couldn’t hold it back anymore, she broke. Her small, empty home in the town of Westview became full once again. She didn’t know what happened. One moment she was sobbing uncontrollably while huddling close to the stuffed animal she had won for you on your first date, then the plain walls filled with hope. Her heart slowly gained a beat, and her hands felt warm again. She stood in front of a door, her fist finding the wood and creating a small knock.

“It’s open!” She heard, and she stopped in her tracks. It was you, it was your angelic voice that was slowly fading from her mind. She gulped fearfully before twisting the knob, letting her legs take control as she stepped forward.

“Love, you’re home!” You greeted with a smile, turning to face her as Wanda’s eyes fell on the toddler being held in your arms. She had the same hair as Wanda, and while it wasn’t easy to spot from so far away, she could see her green, piercing eyes looking back at her. The child giggled and pointed her chubby finger her way, causing a smile to break out on her face.

“Everything alright, sweetie?” You asked when she didn’t move, her mouth agape and her hands nearly releasing the briefcase she held.

“Yes…everything is just perfect, my love.” She mustered out, rushing towards your figure and embracing you in a tight hold. The replica of her was left with a small kiss to her forehead before she took her into her arms, blowing raspberries on her exposed tummy. Alana giggled again, and it felt like Wanda’s ear would explode. She felt like she was dreaming, only this wasn’t the nightmare she fought with every night. No, this time you were here to cure her.

“Momma!” She heard from a distance, seeing a young boy running to greet her. He hugged her leg tightly, causing Wanda to stumble before she leaned down, ruffling his hair before she gave him a small side hug, the baby in her arms restricting her from embracing him as much as she wanted to.

“Hey, kiddo! How was your day?”

“It was amazing! Me, Mommy, and Alana made dinner!” She gasped, showing her appreciation towards the excited boy before he ran off to the kitchen as she requested. He was still too young to carry his little sister, so she continued to do so.

“And hello to you, my sweet baby.” Wanda placed a small kiss against your stomach, placing her hand against the bump and rubbing her thumb in small, soothing circles.

“Have they been giving you any trouble today?” She asked, resulting in a small sigh from your end.

“They’ve been kicking all day. I swear, if they’re not professional soccer players, I don’t know what else they’ll do.” Wanda laughed before leaving multiple pecks to your lips, grasping your hand in hers before leading you to the kitchen.

“Well, it’s only a few more months until they’ll be out of you, I know you can do it.” You stopped in your tracks, eyeing her and causing the taller woman to stall. Nobody wanted to see you angry, especially when you were pregnant.

“First of all, I don’t see you carrying two demons in your stomach, so I’d shut up if I were you. And, second of all, this is the third time I’m doing this, you are no longer allowed to go without a condom.” She placed her hand on her chest as if she was offended and you grinned, leaving a kiss on her cheek before walking through the kitchen door where your son laid out all the dishes for you four. You thanked him before he climbed onto his seat, still finding himself to be too short for the chairs you had. Wanda placed your daughter in the high chair before taking the seat next to her. You noticed her smiling large, her eyes being filled with more joy than usual.

“What’s got you all happy?” She admired the scene in front of her, Pietro Jr and Alana sitting peacefully, both of them sharing the genes she was blessed with. Her partner, smiling back at her while they carried her twins, she couldn’t have asked for anything more.

“Oh, nothing, I’m just thinking about how lucky I am to have all of you.” You blushed, tilting your head slightly as you bit your lip.

“Well, that’s never going to change, sweetheart.” ‘I’ll make sure of it’, she thought.

#wanda maximoff oneshot #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff comfort #wanda maximoff x reader smut #wanda maximoff x reader angst #wanda maximoff x gender neutral reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x reader fluff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x f!reader #dark!wanda maximoff #dark wanda maximoff #dark wanda x reader

[darkbluekies]

Don't know if anyone asked but what would the yandere's reaction be to the reader patching them up after they get injured?

Warnings: mentions of cuts, blood, killing, yandere, feeling depressed? (I'm not sure what to call it)

Silas: 

He is strongly against you seeing him in this kind of condition. He’s supposed to be your protector, supposed to take care of you … not the other way around. But you manage to push him down on the toilet and start to clean his wounds while he hisses and curses, although afterwards, he’ll shower you in kisses and tell you how grateful he is.

“You’re not supposed to — fuck — do this. I can take care of myself, you know. Give me that — oh motherfucker — that disinfectant and I’ll do it myself. Yes, I am happy that you’re worried about me, but this isn’t my proudest moment, baby. Let me spare some damn dignity.”

Dr Kry: 

He has cut his palm deeply on one of his sharp tools while cleaning up after a surgery. He returns to your room where he keeps all of his stuff. His hands are shaking too much to be able to clean it. You decide to help him before he bleeds out. Dr Kry guides you through the process to make sure you do everything as you should.

“Take that and pat it on my hand. Be careful though, that disinfectant is pretty strong. Ouch — I’m fine, don’t worry. Then you have to take the bandage and wrap it around my hand nad wrist. Don’t wrap it until my hand turns blue, but make sure that its tight. Good job, Y/N. I think I’m good now. But now you need to get back to bed, you know that you shouldn’t be out too much … as a thank you, I can get you dessert after dinner, alright?”

King Edmund:

Cut in the shoulder by a sword. An enemy had caught him in a vulnerable moment. You sit him down on the side of the bed and remove his shirt before starting to clean the wound. Edmund groans and throws his head back to avoid seeing the mess. Although complaining a lot, he doesn’t want anyone else treating him. No one but you are worthy enough to touch his body.

“Hurry up, please! For the love of all mighty, aren’t you done soon? I’m going to die! Yes, I am, you wouldn’t know. I’m going to mangle that scum who had the nerve to dislocate my shoulder. Y/N, you are going to take care of me until I’m well again, won’t you? You have to. I’m your king … your husband. You need to take care of me.”

Jerry:

Another one who’s extremely against you seeing her in this condition. She tries to push you away when you try to help her, but she’s too weak. In the end, you manage to corner her in the bathroom and treat her bloody wounds. For once, her hard demeanor seem to fall. She’s quiet, limp. You ask what’s on her mind, fearing for why she’s not being her normal dramatic, sarcastic self.

“I honestly thought that I was going to die … I have never been so … scared before. I’m pathetic, aren’t I? Yes, I am. Don’t try to tell me otherwise. I know it already. You should have left me alone, Y/N. You shouldn’t patch me up. You should have left me to die. I love you. I know I don’t say that a lot, I just wanted you to … know. Sorry for being a pathetic pussy … I just … nevermind.”

Hedwig: 

She’s crying while you clean the wound on her cheek. She had been shaving off some baby hairs — a trick she’d seen online — but had been too uncertain, resulting in her cutting herself. You clean it softly and place a bandaid over it. 

“I look so ugly, don’t I? I can’t go to school like this! People will laugh at me. Everyone will know that i tried to shave and that I couldn’t do it. Please stay with me, Y/N, stay with me forever. You’re the only one who doesn’t care what I look like. It doesn’t look … that bad … right? I never want to be without you, i dont think i could do it.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere oc x reader #yandere male #yandere female #yandere doctor #yandere king #yandere reactions #yandere headcanon #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #tw yandere

[thefallennightmare]

Just Pretend-eighteen

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: The song choice for this chapter is St. Patrick by Pvris!

Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @koskeepsake @bngurngheart @shilohrosechicken @emzandthevoid @casangel1986 @qualityvoidcollectorsblog @myownthoughts12 @jilliemiw86 @bellaboo967

NOAH

My car idled in my driveway as I trained my gaze hard on my steering wheel, deep uneven breathing overpowering the sound of the radio. I arrived home almost twenty minutes ago but couldn’t gain the strength to go inside. The light in Jolly’s room was on and I didn’t feel like getting the third degree about where I went after I left the pier.

They knew I was taking Y/N home but didn’t know what happened after.

“Noah,” Y/N moaned while rubbing her pussy over my thigh.

My lips attacked her neck in vicious bites as my hand grasped at the skin of her back, anything I could do to pull her closer.

“Let me fucking cum, Noah.”

I rested my head against the headrest and let out a strangled breath as different memories clouded my mind.

I sat on the edge of Bailey’s bed, a beer bottle hanging loosely between my fingers. It was my third one in the last hour; body tipsy from the alcohol. From the second I stepped inside her apartment, Bailey offered me a drink, wanting to know what I did today. But instead of talking, I drank while we watched a movie in her bedroom.

Both of us were feeling the effects of the alcohol and Bailey was standing in front of me, hands running through my hair.

“I’m fucking depressed,” I hiccuped after taking another long drink of my beer. “I drink like a fish and have needs that aren’t being met.”

“I can help you with that,” she kneeled in front of me, hands reaching for my shirt as her lips grazed over my neck.

I felt stiff in her embrace. “I can’t”

“You can,” Bailey’s hands snaked up my shirt, dragging her nails over my abdomen.

I squeezed my eyes shut at the memory, letting out a broken breath. “I can’t fucking do this. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Bailey sat in front of me on the bed, naked, but my eyes were straight on hers, not daring myself to look farther down.

“On your knees, face the wall,” I demanded while rolling the condom over my cock.

Angry eyes stared down at it, feeling betrayed by how hard I was. It wasn’t anything like how I was with Y/N and I knew it was only because of the thought of having an orgasm.

Anger still radiated through me as I gripped the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white. How could I have done that to Y/N? How would she ever forgive me?

“Noah,” Bailey moaned. 

I grunted while pausing my thrusts to shift us so her face was buried into the pillow so I couldn’t hear her. 

Bailey felt nice but nothing like Y/N. With my angel, it felt as if she was my missing piece when we connected, it was as if our souls were becoming one. The way Bailey moaned wasn’t the same either;  pretty but not what I needed to properly get off. 

I stared down at her back to see a small butterfly tattoo on her shoulder. Pretty but nothing compared to the tattoos Y/N had. Her body and image filled my vision and I gripped the hips in front of me tighter. 

“Oh,” she writhed underneath me. “Shit.” 

“Fuck, angel. You feel so good.” I panted. 

Y/N’s bright smile radiated my thoughts when my eyes closed and I thought of her laugh as I came inside of the condom.

“You’re a pig” I spat out into the confines of my car. “I thought of Y/N the entire time.”

The selfishness began to eat away at me, this cowardly facade. All I needed to do was tell Y/N my feelings and have her sit down and listen.

Shit. 

First I needed to tell Bailey, whatever this was, was finished. 

Nice, you’re going to break up with her hours after having sex?

Why was I holding onto something I didn’t want? I kept trying to fill the loneliness of Y/N.  She was everywhere. Why couldn’t I just tell her how I feel? 

Rejection?

Is it because sometimes I have a lisp? 

No, idiot. She doesn’t care about that. 

Suddenly with a choked sob, it hit me that the fear of being abandoned again was holding onto me like a vice. 

Stay here, you’re comfortable. Stay here- you’re comfortable in your weakness and your temptations; your temporary fixes.

These moments were easy to hide behind. Bailey was easy to hide behind. The alcohol was always easy. Something new I hid behind was the sex and I just wanted to drink until it was fatal. 

What a fucking mess.

The light turned off in Jolly’s room but I still wasn't ready to head inside. I felt safer in my car where I could chastise myself for my actions. I ran a shaking hand over my face as my knee continued to bounce in anger. 

Y/N stormed into my life like a fucking tidal wave. Every day I couldn’t believe this was how I’d ended up. I told myself after everything I’ve been through there was no time for love, no time for the commitment, no time for anything. 

Survival; that’s it. That’s what you know.

The second I stepped off the bus that first day of the tour, my eyes landed directly on Y/N, I knew that everything I thought and decided about my life was going to be different.

I repeatedly replayed this evening and continued to feel disgusted with myself and my actions. Bailey was lovely, too sweet, but I knew she didn’t truly see me as a person. She saw me as the man with the voice- I couldn’t blame her, none of this was her fault. I need to end it. 

But then it hit me again, what I’d done. 

Oh no. I have to tell Y/N.

I couldn’t handle losing her again. 

I smacked the steering wheel. “Fucking idiot! Idiot! Stupid!” 

My breath became erratic and stuck in my throat as my chest constricted with pain. I felt my pulse quicken, my heart pounding loudly in my ears, and I shook my head. 

“Shit, no. Not now.” My vision became hazy, unable to see in front of me as a sob crawled out of my throat. 

Breathe, dumbass. Breathe. Countdown like Dr. Poulos says. 

5. 

I took in a deep breath, holding it in. 

4. 

I blew out my breath for two seconds. 

2. 

Another deep breath, holding it, as the fuzzy vision began to clear.

1.

Letting out my breath, I felt all of my oxygen fill my lungs again and the pain in my best subsided. 

Once I felt centered, I ran my hands over my thighs and when the light in the living room turned on, noticing someone peek through the curtain I knew that I couldn’t hide out here forever. I needed to face what I’d done. 

“I need a fucking miracle. I need some fucking help,” I muttered while climbing out of the car, slowly stalking towards my house. 

Just as I predicted, Jolly was sitting on the couch, watching something on the television and when he saw me walk in, his attention immediately went to the sour expression on my face. 

“Hey,” Jolly said softly. 

I nodded in return as I made my way towards the stairs, just wanting to wash away Bailey’s scent. 

“Everything alright?” He asked as I made it about halfway up the stairs. 

I gripped the railing as my jaw ticked. “Nothing, man. Don’t worry about it.” 

“No, don’t avoid this. We all came back home hours ago, it doesn’t take you that long to drop off Y/N. Where the hell were you?” 

 “I-uh-something happened tonight.” 

Jolly turned off the television, giving me his undivided attention, so I turned towards him now. 

“With Y/N?” 

“And Bailey,” I admitted. 

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “What the hell happened?”

“I didn’t mean for it to get this far with Y/N. We were listening to Death of Peace Of Mind and it just happened,” I sighed. 

“You fucked her in the car?” He gasped. 

“No. No!,” I waved a hand in the air. “But we were pretty close. I was seconds away from taking off her pants when Bailey called.” 

“Noah, come on. You need to break off this situation you're in with Bailey. Both you and Y/N need to cut this crap already. It’s not healthy for either of you.”

I rested my arms on the railing. “I know, I know. I want too but its another day of us going in fucking circles.” 

Jolly raised a brow. “Is it the rejection or something else that has you stalling now?” 

“No!” I rushed out too fast.

“It sure seems like it. You’re insecure and worried Y/N’s going to leave again which is why you’re playing both sides. But you can’t have your cake then back up when things get to real, Noah. Its fucked up especially because we already know how she feels about you. You already know.”

I swallowed the large lump in my throat as I prepared myself to say these dreaded four words. Regret filled my veins as the words fell from my lips into the air, telling Jolly what happened after I dropped Y/N off.

I slept with Bailey. 

“She didn’t want you to stay?” Jolly wondered. 

Another flashback to a few hours ago. 

I snapped out of my drunk and sex-hazed nap when a hand grazed down my chest, and stomach, before stopping right at my cock. Bailey was seconds away from wrapping her fingers around it and I jolted from the bed, searing for my clothes.

 “Where are you going?” She asked, letting the sheet fall from her naked form. 

I spun on my heels so I didn’t have to see her. “I’ve got an early day in the studio.” 

“Oh, you don’t want to stay?”

“I can’t,” I muttered, fully dressed, 

I slipped away from her with a light kiss on her cheek. 

“I couldn’t stay, man. It wasn’t right. This entire night wasn’t supposed to be like this,” I stammered over my words, thanks to the alcohol still flooding through my system. 

“Noah-.” 

“Y/N walked away from me tonight, Jolly! After the moment we shared, it felt right; real. But she still just fucking left,” I snapped, raising my voice. 

“What is she supposed to think? You’ve been twisting Y/N’s mind around too,” he said with a stern voice. 

“I didn’t see it that way,” my shoulders fell with defeat. “This thing with Bailey was never supposed to go this far. It was only supposed to distract me from Y/N. I’ve overthought every fucking thing.” 

Jolly raised to his feet before meeting me halfway up the stairs. “That’s why we keep telling you to either discuss this shit with Y/N or your therapist at least because what you’re doing isn’t working.”

Flashes of Bailey in her bed tried to come to the forefront but I shook my head, forcing it away. I needed help; I needed something to block out these images. 

“I’ll be in the studio,” I muttered while ascending the stairs once again. 

“It’s 2 in the morning, Noah,” Jolly called after me. 

“Don’t care.” 

NOAH

A knock sounded on the door, stirring me awake from my slumber in the computer chair. The bottle slipped from my fingers onto the floor at my feet, spilling only a little bit of the dark ember liquid on the carpet. 

Shit, Jesse’s going to kill me for staining it. 

“Noah,” Jolly said while walking into the room. 

I threw a hand over my shoulder, letting him know I was still here, but kept my gaze trained on the screen in front of me. 

“Do you know what time it is?” 

I grunted in response, suddenly wishing I hadn’t dropped my bottle to the ground. 

Jolly sighed before pulling the chair away from the computer, eyes staring straight down at me. “Are you drunk again?” 

“No, just a little tipsy,” I sighed, not wanting to fight him. 

After the hell of the last twelve hours, I was exhausted; mentally and physically. Jolly didn’t deserve the anger I felt for myself directed towards him. 

“I have this melody in my head, I have to get it out. It’s eating away at me,” I said. 

He nodded solemnly. “You’ve been in here for the last few hours, though. Why don’t you take a break? Shower, eat something, get some sleep, and then we can both work something out. Alright?” 

“I just can’t-,” I shook my head, long disheveled hair falling into my face. 

“You’re not gonna drink what you did away, Noah,” Jolly lifted me from the chair, tight grip on my arms so he could force me to look into his eyes. 

“You’re going to sleep the rest of this bullshit off, then when you wake up, you’re going to have some food, a shower, then we’re going to fucking work. Wipe your face and get right. We’ll figure this out.”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” I shot back, the stubbornness radiating off of me in waves. 

Jolly snorted while brushing away the invisible dirt from my shoulders and straightening my shirt. “Watch me.” 

I reached for the bottle, holding it in front of my face. The dark ember liquid sloshed around in the glass as Chase’s voice rang loudly in my head. 

Y/N doesn’t need another Trey. 

“I’m not fucking Trey!” I set the bottle down on the desk with a loud thunk. “She doesn’t deserve that side of me. She deserves the best of me.”

Even though I didn’t say her name, Jolly knew who I was talking about. “No. You’re not, so let’s get right. Cut the shit. You made a mistake, don’t let that sit inside you. Get it out.”

“I didn’t mean it, all I saw was Y/N,” I admitted with a sob, a lone tear rolling down my cheek. “I want her back so bad, man. I love her.” 

This wasn’t the first time I’d admit my love for Y/N out loud but every time I did, it made my heart stutter wildly in my chest. 

“I know,” Jolly sighed while giving me a small smile. “First things first, take a shower and get some sleep, alright?”

I sniffled, standing straighter. “Okay.”

READER

This was such a bad idea. I should not be doing this. I should have immediately declined but Malcolm agreed for all of us before he knew what happened. I couldn’t back out now, much to my dismay. 

With a sigh, I threw on my swimsuit cover before sliding on my sandals. Matt wanted to throw an end-of-summer pool party at his place. As much as I didn’t want to face Noah, the idea of hanging out around the pool with my friends and beer sounded relaxing. 

“Hey, are you almost ready? Malcolm’s waiting in the car for us.” 

Looking towards my open door, I smiled at Chase, who was leaning against the wall. 

“Yeah, I just need to grab my bag.” 

Salem was asleep curled up on my bed and I gave him a soft kiss on the top of his head after grabbing my bag. 

“Something is up with you,” Chase squinted his eyes at me, almost assessing me. 

I shook my head, deflecting his assumptions. “I don’t know what you mean?”

He pointed to my face. “The look on your face, your entire aura.” 

When I walked past him, ready to end this discussion, his arm shot out to block me in place right in front of the door. “Wait, is that?” 

Chase’s finger grazed over a spot on my neck and I smacked it away before covering it with my hand. 

“Is that a hickey?”

“Chase, don’t-,” I began. 

 “Fucking finally!” He exclaimed while throwing his head back. 

I raised my brows while crossing my arms over my chest. “Excuse me?”

“You two must have finally talked. Got rid of the elephant-.”

“No!,” I cut him off while waving my hands. “We didn’t talk about fucking anything. It was a weak moment, which I’m extremely guilty of.”

“Wait, you didn’t,” Chase shook his head, now confused. “Noah didn’t-?”

“Chase, there is nothing to say. He doesn’t feel the same about me, not the way I do. He’s with this other woman.”

“Then what the fuck happened last night? Why do you have a hickey on your neck?” 

I shifted on my feet, avoiding Chase’s gaze. “Their new song was hot and it just happened- it won’t happen again.”

“Fuck, Y/N,” Chase pinched his eyes shut. “You can’t be this dense. What is going on with you? Noah doesn’t feel the same? He looks at you like you’re some fucking angel that just got shot down from the sky. How can you not see that?”

“Let it go, please. I waited too long. He wants to move on, and I had no right to do what we did last night,” my breath wavered as I pushed past him into the hallway, ready to end the conversation. 

“Did you fuck Noah?” Chase’s voice carried down the hall just as Malcolm walked back into the house, eyebrows raised. 

“You fucked Noah?” Malcolm gasped, dropping his bag of towels to the ground.

My feet skidded to a halt, head whipping back and forth between them. “No! But, it was getting there. We would have if Bailey didn’t call.”

Chase now appeared in front of me as I stood in the hallway, Malcolm on the other side of him. “Sweets,  you’ve got to stop being so hard on yourself. You made a mistake by leaving that night; we all know that. Noah forgave you, he’s written songs about you, and I know our songs are about him. Just cut the shit and talk to him okay? He loves you, Y/N.  I know he does.”

Tears burned in my eyes as I let out a shaky breath. “If he loves me then why is he with her?” 

Malcolm and Chase shared a look, unsure what the right answer to my question would be. 

“I don’t know,” Malcolm sighed. “But maybe if you two talked to each other. Writing songs instead of letters can only help so much.”

“Can we table this discussion for now?” I asked with a sigh. “I just want to have a relaxing day today by the pool.” 

My roommates and brothers shared another look before reluctantly agreeing. 

The car ride over to Matt’s was filled with the soft tune of the radio while Malcolm drove, hand linked with Chase’s, and I sat in the back marveling at how far their relationship had come. 

In the beginning of Hollow Souls, I knew that there was chemistry between them but they were nervous about what I or Trey would think. Trey never knew because he was too busy being buried in alcohol, but I always knew that they were meant to be together. Soulmates if you will. No matter how hard they tried to deny their feelings, it was Malcolm who made the first move. 

The corner of my lip turned up in a smile when I remembered the memory; it was after our first successful tour came to an end. At the time, Chase lived with me in Las Vegas, before I moved in with Trey, and Malcolm was living in Los Angeles because of better opportunities. Chase didn’t want Malcolm to leave quite yet, something Malcolm picked up on because he invited Chase to visit him soon. 

Only Chase. 

After some late-night talks with me, Chase eventually agreed and spent two weeks in Los Angeles with Malcolm; He returned happier than ever. 

If there was any relationship to study and look up to, it was theirs.

“I’m going to take your advice,” I said suddenly as the car pulled to a stop in front of Matt’s house. 

Chase turned to face me. “You are?” 

I nodded. “It can’t hurt, right? Telling him how I feel,” 

Malcolm looked at me through the rearview mirror. 

“Finally!” He exclaimed. “ Just tell him! Let it out and then you guys can run away and fuck again. Because this late-night moaning of his name is not doing it for me. Our walls are thin.”

I slapped his arm. “Fucking tell me about it. I don’t need to know some things about your relationship, especially when you guys are in bed together.”

MICHAEL

The expression you can cut the tension with a knife had never been more right than at this exact moment. 

I sat on the pool's edge, legs dangling in the water, with Bryan next to me. We saw the exact moment Noah walked in with Bailey clung to his arm, the only way this day would end would be in a disaster. I turned towards Jesse, who was already in the pool and mouthed three words. 

“What the fuck?” 

Jesse’s only answer was a shake of his head. 

Bailey never left Noah’s side, her hand wrapped around his, as they made small talk with Nick. I could see it in the way Noah’s jaw clenched that something was wrong. She kept trying to pull him close but he did his best to keep his distance. 

“Did he forget that Y/N’s coming?” Matt scoffed while sitting on the other side of me. 

“Did Noah mention anything about bringing Bailey?” Brayn asked. 

Matt scoffed again, something about this whole situation was truly appalling. “I guess she kind of invited herself. Folio brought it up in front of Noah, not realizing he was on the phone with her. So he felt obligated.”

“Fuck,” I shook my head while taking a sip of my beer. “Talk about awkward.” 

“I wouldn’t say awkward,” Matt muttered while adjusting his hat.

“Matt, be nice,” Jolly said sternly as he walked past, knocking off the hat so it could splash into the pool. 

Suddenly, the air and tension tilted on its axis when Y/N walked into the backyard with Chase and Malcolm. My eyes immediately snapped over to Noah, who was already watching Y/N with an intense gaze. She turned towards him, ready to say something until Bailey snuck up behind Noah, wrapping an arm around him. 

Noah’s body immediately tensed and when I peered back at Y/N there was a look of hurt or betrayal on her face; I couldn’t tell which exactly and could study it more because she was already slinking away from him, behind the forefield that was Chase and Malcolm. Bailey then dragged Noah towards the grill where Orie was cooking food. 

“Is it just me or is there something there? More than usual?” I asked. 

Jolly, who pulled up a chair behind me, sighed. “All I can say is that Noah was in the studio till about five this morning. I’m even shocked he’s standing upright. He drank half a bottle of Hennesy before spilling the rest on the carpet.” 

“He did what?” Jesse spoke up, gaining the attention of others. 

We ignored Jesse’s outburst and did our best to enjoy the rest of the afternoon, no matter how awkward things were right now. Surely, it couldn’t get worse. 

I saw the expression of bewilderment had come back onto Noah’s face as he stole glances at Y/N while she chatted with her bandmates. It was as though a faint doubt occurred to him as to the quality of his present happiness. There must have been moments when Y/N tumbled any short of Noah’s dreams – not through her fault, but because of the colossal vitality of his illusion.

It had gone beyond her; beyond everything. He had thrown himself into it with a creative passion, adding to it all the time, decking it out with every bright feather that drifted his way. No amount of fire or freshness can challenge what a man will store up in his extreme ghost-like heart.

We’ve all attempted to keep the peace as long as possible, but fuck, is this enough. Especially after the way he brought Bailey here today. The first time Bailey met all of us at Y/N’s welcome home party, that was awkward enough. 

Neither of them could seem to spit out what they wanted. I wanted to tell Bailey to go home.  She’s too sweet for this but yet so fucking naive.  Her head was in the clouds; a mere rockstar in her clouded brain. Noah’s a human being, and so were the two women caught in the middle of this. 

But something changed, drastically, between Noah, Bailey, and even Y/N. It’s been almost an hour and not once did they say a word to each other. They sat on other ends of the backyard; Noah and Bailey sitting just the two of them on one of the lawn chairs while Y/N sat with Chase and Malcolm, joking around with Orie. 

I sensed something while noticing the small things others wouldn’t. I tilted my head to the side, watching Noah and Bailey. The grazing and touching were almost too intimate, especially in front of all of us; Y/N included. Bailey tried to run her hands through Noah’s hair but he flinched away and quickly tied it up on top of his head. Noah had yet to shed himself of his t-shirt but Bailey was donning a green two-piece, hoping to catch his attention. 

Noah didn’t dare glance at her that way, keeping it civil and friendly. 

Bailey laid a kiss on his cheek before she whispered something in his ear, him shivering at whatever she said. It was then that I grasped what happened between them. 

I shook my head while motioning for Jolly, who was now in the pool. Once he swam over to me, I pointed to Noah. 

“Did they?” 

Jolly simply nodded, not wanting to utter the words out loud in case other ears were listening. 

I sighed, disappointed. “You got to be fucking kidding me.”

The way I observed this pool, you’d think I was a swimmer with sharks.

But I knew Noah. I’ve watched him; he smells bullshit like a shark smells blood, even his own. He watched Y/N from the side the entire time. 

To make her angry? Jealous? Who knows. But he was tired of the arm candy; that I could see.  Once again, void of emotions. Just another fucking animal for the ark, that was Noah’s.

Movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention and I watched as Y/N hesitantly took off her swim cover. It was a hot day, most of us cooling off in the pool, and it took a lot of coaxing from Malcolm and Chase but eventually, Y/N must have felt comfortable enough to show more skin. I knew parts of her past with Trey, thanks to what Noah had told me, so I was aware of the body issues she was dealing with. 

I didn’t understand why; Y/N was gorgeous, and we all agreed to that. But sometimes when you spend years dealing with all kinds of mental abuse, it takes time to get over those old habits. 

Once Y/N stood in the bright rays of the sun, soaking her almost in a neon glow with her bright red two-piece. The variety of tattoos was fully on display. The small one on her inner ankle made me chuckle, remembering the story Jolly told me about why she got that one. I glanced over to Noah, who sat with his elbows on his knees, chin resting on his palm, as he watched Y/N with careful eyes as she dipped herself into the pool. Bailey kept rambling on about something to him, not even realizing his attention was somewhere else. 

On someone else. 

NOAH

My eyes burned as I watched Y/N dip herself into the pool; unholy skin cooling immediately. Bailey kept rambling on about some random bullshit about the record shop, something I didn’t care about because the only thing I care about was gliding through the water, laughing along with Chase. 

The way Y/N was sitting on the side of the pool, thighs almost wide open. She was soaking wet right now, but not by me and that wasn’t fair. I could remember exactly where her magic was. I know exactly where I’d have to touch, lick or bite. I’d like nothing more than to slide those vibrant red bikini bottoms off her and taste her, begin to have the best fucking meal- happily. Seeing her spread wide open, I could feel myself getting hard, straining against my shorts. I discreetly adjust myself hoping no one will notice and set my attention elsewhere quickly. 

I took pride in seeing her blossom. Y/N was hesitant to take that cover-up off- I knew that. But she found her confidence and as soon as that thing fell off her shoulders it was like staring directly into the sun. I was hot, sweating profusely, and I wanted so badly to reach out to touch her. Feel her skin, lock us both together, almost drowning in this pool.

“Noah, are you even listening?” Bailey chuckled while running a finger down my arm. 

I shifted in my seat so her hand could fall away from me. “Sorry, it’s been a long day.” 

“You should have stayed last night. We could have slept in, ordered something for breakfast, maybe fucked again,” she said. 

I snapped my head towards her with my jaw clenched. Bailey wasn’t exactly quiet but thankfully, Y/N was on the far end of the pool where she couldn’t hear us. 

“I told you, I had to be at the studio early. I couldn’t stay.” 

Bailey brushed a finger over my cheek. “Do you want to stay tonight?” 

Before I could give her an answer, Matt’s voice rang out. “Are you two going to isolate yourselves all day or come swim? It is a pool party, remember?” 

I glanced over toward the group of them, especially at Y/N who was purposely avoiding my gaze which made my stomach drop. 

Did she find out about Bailey and I? 

No, the only person I told was Jolly and he wouldn’t say anything. 

“Come on,” Bailey pulled me up from the chair and tried to reach for my shirt. 

Gently I pushed her hands away, muttering something about how I didn’t want to swim, and sat on the edge of the pool next to Michael. If Bailey said something, it fell on deaf ears, as I quickly picked up on the conversation between Michael and Jesse. 

“Oh, Y/N, your tattoos are gorgeous!” 

My eyes danced over to Y/N, standing back on solid ground, running a towel through her water-drenched hair. I followed a drop of water as it grazed down the side of her neck, over the bright red but small mark, and I nearly choked on my spit. 

“Uh, thank you,” Y/N gave Bailey a small smile as she sat on a chair, accepting a beer from Folio. 

“Any meaning behind them?” Bailey wondered as she swam in front of my legs that were dangling in the water, forcing herself between them. 

Michael saw the scowl on my lips and lightly smacked my arm. 

“Be nice,” he grumbled. 

Ignoring him, I watched with careful eyes as the two women talked. 

“Depends on which one,” Y/N answered. 

“All of them?” 

“Bailey-,” I started. 

“No,” Y/N interrupted. “It’s fine. I don’t mind her asking about them.” 

We locked eyes for a long beat before she was the first one to break it. 

“The floral design on my arm doesn't mean anything, I just wanted a sleeve. Uh-,” Y/N then pointed to the small Spirited Away character on her other arm. “This is from my favorite movie.” 

Bailey shook her head. “I don’t know what that is.” 

“Kaonashi,” I answered. “From Spirited Away.”

“I thought I saw one on your back?” Bailey questioned. 

Y/N turned in her chair, showcasing the large snake and floral tattoo that covered the entirety of her back. Memories of our night together in the hotel room flashed in my mind; my lips kissing over every inch of ink as my finger traced the design. 

“Oh, that’s amazing. What’s the story behind that one?” 

Y/N’s lips in a pulled line; a fake smile. “A snake shed their skin, a way to represent growth. I always found that fascinating so that’s why I got a tattoo of a snake.” 

Bailey’s finger grazed up and down my leg under the water. “What about the tattoo on your thigh and leg? It’s fucking huge.” 

“Uh,” Y/N traced over the ink on her leg while staring down at it. “It’s some of my favorite Greek Gods on top of Mount Olympus. My grandma told me stories growing up and they mean a lot to me.” 

Folio snorted while hiding his smirk behind his beer bottle and I shot him a look, knowing exactly why he was smirking. 

“Let’s just say I was on top of Mount Olympus.” 

“Oh, I thought Greek mythology was all fake? Those Gods didn’t exist.” 

I let out a low noise. “Bailey, I think this game of twenty questions is over.” 

Y/N’s eyes narrowed. “Everyone has their own things they believe in, Bailey. Especially my grandma, she grew up in Greece believing those same stories.”

“I knew you were Italian because of your dad but didn’t know you were Greek,” I said with a hint of shock. 

She shrugged. “Half. On my mom’s side. 

“Wait,” Nick spoke up. “I thought you were adopted.” 

Y/N nodded. “Yeah at six months old. But believe it or not, both of my birth parents were Greek and Italian which is why I think they chose my adoptive parents. I don’t talk about it much because-.” 

When her words died on her lips, she gazed away towards Chase who sighed, rubbing her back. 

“Because her mom was a bitch, and told Y/N she was adopted on her eighteenth birthday” Malcolm finished. 

“Mal!” Y/N seethed while smacking his chest. “You can’t just call my mother a bitch!” 

“Why the fuck not?” He rubbed his chest. “You’ve called her worse; to her face.” 

Y/N sighed. “Yes, but that’s because she’s my mother. You don’t get that right.” 

Malcolm snorted. “I’ll remember that the next time you wake me up at two a.m. because she drunk called you to tell you how worthless and how pathetic your career is.”

I remember back to that night on tour when Y/N divulged a little bit about her past growing up and while she didn’t speak much about her mom, I could tell from then and even now, their relationship was rocky. 

“I know,” she sighed while playing with the chain of her ankle bracelet. 

My eyes immediately locked in on the bracelet on her wrist and the necklace that hung between her breasts which were pressed together due to her swimsuit. My dick twitched and I had to adjust myself on the edge of the pool in a way to hide my growing erection. 

“Oh, how funny is that!” Bailey said, completely not understanding that the conversation about tattoos was over. “You have a cute little tattoo on your ankle. Noah has one in the same spot.” 

I stiffened, not knowing if she would be able to put two and two together. Y/N gave a curt smile before rising from her chair, muttering something about going to the bathroom. 

Chase could feel the sudden tension so he spoke up. “We have this tradition of getting tattoos done on the last day of tour. So that’s the story behind that one.” 

Bailey, realizing there was no need to pester Y/N any longer turned towards me and rested her arms on my thighs as she looked up at me. 

“Come in. Swim with me.” 

She tried to reach for my hands and I gently pushed her away. “Stop it, Bailey.” 

Her face twitched with pain? Sadness? Whatever it was made my stomach drop with guilt. 

“I’m going to grab another beer,” I mumbled before rising to my feet and trekking inside. 

Except I wasn’t looking for a beer. I was looking for someone specific. The bathroom was in a secluded hallway and just as I turned the corner, Y/N retreated from the bathroom with a look of shock on her face when she saw me. 

“H-hi Mochi,” she studdered while shifting on her feet. 

I stopped a few inches in front of her, breathing in her perfume, and my heart began to beat widely in my chest. My eyes drank in the sight of her as I stared down at her. 

“Hi, angel. How’s the pain today?” I wondered. 

It felt like so much happened between us that I almost forgot yesterday she was bedridden in pain before I came over. 

A small smile curved her lips. “I’m alright. The meds seem to be working which helps alleviate the pain.”

“I can run out and get you a piece of baklava or a cannoli if you want. There’s a great bakery about a block from here,” I suggested while leaning against the wall. 

She hummed while drumming her fingers on her arm as she crossed them over her chest; pushing those perfect breasts up higher and my lips twitched with the want to taste them. 

“I’m fine right now but I definitely will take you up on that offer some other time.” 

We stayed like this, staring into each other eyes, for a very long moment. 

The only sound was our deep, synchronized breathing. In this split second in the seclusion of the hallway- fuck was I reminded; that this feeling has and will probably only happen once, and that’s why every minute we spent together has been seared in my memory.

The invisible heartstrings that kept us connected made me cup Y/N’s cheek gently, her turning into my embrace as her eyes fluttered shut.

“Angel,” my voice was low. “I’m really sorry about all that; Bailey. I was on the phone with her when Folio brought this whole thing up and before I knew it she was outside my door.” 

Y/N gazed up at me through lashes, shaking her head. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Noah.”

“No, I do because you don’t deserve to be grilled about your life like it’s an interview.” 

“Mochi,” she said softly, grabbing my arm that still held her face. 

“Listen,” I took a deep breath, ready to tell her the truth about what happened last night. “I need to tell you-.” 

“There’s something I have to say-,” Y/N spoke at the same time. 

“NOAH!” Bailey’s voice echoed throughout the lower level of Matt’s house. “Can you bring me a glass of wine, please” 

Y/N seemed to have snapped back to reality because she sucked in a breath, taking a large step away from me. I wanted to reach for her, pull her back into me, and never let her go. 

“I-uh-should get back,” she pointed over my shoulder before slipping away from me; again.

READER

My eyes burned as I walked back into the main area of Matt’s house but almost came to a sudden halt seeing Bailey leaning against the kitchen counter, a huge smile on her face. 

“Hey, is Noah in here? I can’t find him,” she asked. 

“Nope,” I forced a smile on my face. 

Bailey nodded. “Oh also, this might come off awkward but, I have this friend, he’s really nice and I’m thinking it might be nice if you two meet.

“Oh no, no, that’s not necessary,” I vigorously shook my head. 

I didn’t need her help to set me up with anyone; not when the one I wanted was the one she was looking for. 

“Just throwing it out there! He really likes your music and is really attractive. Don’t tell Noah,” she giggled. 

I swallowed thickly, keeping the fake smile on my face. 

“I’m not looking for anything serious,” I began while playing with my necklace between my fingers.  

Bailey waved me off. “Oh, come on. Give him a chance! Maybe just meet him?” 

“I mean,” I sighed, “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to meet him.“

“Cool!” she beamed before pointing behind me. “I need to use the bathroom.” 

With yet another forced smile, I allowed her to walk past me and dared not to look back knowing that Noah was most likely still in the hallway as I walked back outside. 

All it took was one soft touch from Noah to have my heart stuttering, yearning for more than a simple cup of my cheek from him. Last night, it kept playing on a loop in my brain, even when I saw Bailey hanging all over Noah. At first, part of me was furious he’d brought her after what happened between us last night. But then I remembered, what happened between us wasn’t supposed to happen. Whatever this was that he had with Bailey was real. 

But you love him. You should tell him.

I shook my head at the thoughts just as Chase came up to me, my phone in his hand. 

“Your mother keeps texting you.” 

I groaned while taking my phone from him. “I don’t want to deal with her right now.” 

“Everything alright?” He frowned slightly. 

“Noah stopped me inside. I was ready to tell him the truth, about how I feel but Bailey was looking for him,” I sighed while wrapping my arms around myself. 

The sudden LA overcast brought a chill to my bones. 

“Sweets,” Chase rubbed my arms. “Don’t let this stop you.” 

“It’s over, Chase. Noah has her,” I wiped a stray tear away. 

“Y/N, no.”

He reached for me as I walked past him, over to the chair I previously claimed, and threw on the red sweater I bought, not realizing it was the one Noah gave me last night at the fireworks show. 

His suave scent filled my senses and I snuggled deeper into the warmth, noticing the look Jolly was giving me. He was sitting at the table next to me. 

“What?” I raised a brow while glancing over to him. 

He shook his head, a small smile on his lips. “I swear that sweater looks familiar. Like I’ve seen someone else wear it before.” 

Playfully I flipped him my middle finger, which in turn made him chuckle, and when my phone buzzed in my hand I was reminded of the three unread texts from my mother. With a deep breath, I prepared myself for whatever cruel words she sent. 

Mom: Hey it’s me, just checking in. Haven’t heard from you in a while. I know our last talk wasn’t good- I didn’t mean to say those things, but you must see how you pushed me into it.

Mom:  I understand you’re out there living whatever fantasy your dad filled in your head, hope that’s going well. But, please understand where I’m coming from. It’s not a career. You’re not gonna be stable forever. 

My heart burned with anger and hurt as her words cut deep. 

Mom: I want you to be responsible, not live in the clouds. I am pushing you to take life seriously. No man is going to want to marry you- this lifestyle is unconventional and I just wish you would see it. I’m sorry you don’t agree but, one day I think you will.

Mom:  Love you kouklamou.

I scoffed as I read the last text repeatedly. After all those cruel words, she dared to call me her doll?

Bullshit. 

After decades of wishing upon a star for my mother to love me the way I thought I needed. I looked at my innocent childhood and had to face reality. My mother would never be someone I could count on for emotional support. My father was who I counted on, he was the one I could trust would understand me and my mind. She never understood my love for music and my freedom. When they divorced I saw how it tormented him, he was in agony. He tried to pick up the pieces and move on with his life, as hard as it was he was able to. I vowed I would never hurt or feel the hurt he did, the hurt she caused me. But a part of me felt guilty; the little girl who yearned for her mother's love made me stay with her after the divorce. 

Until my eighteenth birthday when my mom told me I was adopted and that there was a part of her that held that against me growing up. My adoptive parents couldn’t have kids so they chose adoption. While my dad loved me like his own flesh and blood, my mother couldn’t look past the part that I wasn't truly hers. 

I never once sought out my birth parents because, to me, I already knew who my parents were. I was distraught at the news that I packed up all of my things and moved in with Chase, who had his own place. This was before Hollow Souls and I’m thankful every fucking day I made that choice because I had no idea where I’d be if I didn’t. 

Growing up, I was taught to love my family and to just accept the love they give. With the passage of time and the dawning of maturity, I began to doubt this kind of unquestioning love. I realized with therapy that what I was doing with Trey wasn’t normal. It was toxic and soul-destroying.  

But now I’m trying, and I won’t stop trying to break that cycle. I have to. Noah seems so different, every tie in my heart feels as if it needs to find him. I seek him unknowingly- I would only hope that with time, I could break that cycle with him at my side.

CHASE

Y/N was talking quietly to Nick, who brought her a blanket from inside since the sun was slowly starting to set, and I knew this was a perfect time. 

I bent low to lay a kiss on Malcolm’s lips. “Did you want anything to drink?” 

“I’ll take another coconut water. Thanks,” he smiled up at me. 

Matt snorted. “Oh, come on you too? Noah loves that shit and I don’t understand why. There’s no flavor to it.” 

Leaving the two of them to get back to their card game, I ran a hand over my buzzed head and slipped inside the house where Jolly was rummaging through the fridge, setting up what he needed for dinner. 

“Any particular reason why she’s here?” I motioned back to the sliding door where Bailey had her arm wrapped around Noah’s as they were talking with Davis and Orie. 

Jolly sighed while setting down the box of pasta. “I don’t know, man. Bailey overheard and next thing he knew, she kind of invited herself.”

“This game that Noah is playing is fucking sick, Jolly. Not only to Y/N but to Bailey as well. Neither of these girls deserves this. If he plans to make Y/N jealous it's fucking working but also going to push her away.”

“Listen, I fucking get it,” Jolly somewhat snapped while setting down the pot full of water.  “Trust me, we’ve all tried to talk to him about this. Noah’s half scorpion, half mule! What do you want us to do? And as for Bailey, I can’t do anything about that. It’s not my place to say anything.  She invited herself and Noah felt bad.” 

With a deep breath, I gripped the counter to keep my own anger in check. It wasn’t fair to Jolly to be on the receiving end of how I felt about this whole situation. 

“You’re right, I’m sorry. Y/N’s my sister so when we see her hurting, it hurts us.” 

Jolly nodded. “I know, I feel the same about Noah.” 

Gazing out through the sliding glass doors, I watched as Y/N nodded along with whatever Nick was saying, every so often stealing glances over to Noah, who was standing almost motionless next to Bailey. She held a glass of wine in her hand, taking long sips every so often, as she listened intently to Bryan as he talked with Orie. No one paid her much attention but that didn’t stop her from being social. 

Poor girl has no idea what she’s caught in the middle of. 

Noah shifted his gaze towards Y/N, almost as if he felt her staring, and when their eyes locked it was only for a brief second before she gave him the cold shoulder, turning away from him. 

Bailey then noticed Noah wasn’t paying attention so she wrapped an arm around his back and left a kiss on his cheek. 

I titled my head, analyzing the interaction between the two of them. Something was different. I wasn't quite sure what, though.

NOAH

The only sound that filled the night air was the clanking of silverware against plates as we all silently ate our dinner. Bailey finished her third glass of wine before reaching for the bottle to refill her cup, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Matt who sat at the head of the table. He raised a brow at me, motioning towards Bailey, and I shrugged in return. 

Y/N sat directly across from me and I noticed that she barely touched her food, simply pushed around her spaghetti with her fork, only taking a few bites here and there. 

Chase, who sat on her left, muttered low in her ear. “You okay?” 

My eyes snapped up from my untouched garlic bread as his words. I knew there was something different with her, I could feel it low inside of me. The pull that connected us vibrated with anger and sadness. 

I tapped Malcolm’s arm, who sat next to me on my left. “Everything alright?”

“Her mom texted her a while ago. The shit she said, Noah, is fucked up. There’s a reason why I called her a bitch. She deserves it.”

“Should I-?” I pointed between us. 

Our voices were hushed so I knew no one could hear our conversation. 

Malcolm shook his head, voice sounding stern. “Just leave it, alright? Give her some time to deal with everything. 

I didn’t miss the look he shot over my shoulder towards Bailey. 

For the next few minutes, silence continued to pass through the entire group, until Chase began drumming an unfamiliar tune on the table with his fingers. 

“Shit,” Jesse said while looking at his phone. “Hollow Souls released a new single?” 

Chase smirked. “Came out earlier today, we haven’t had a chance to bring it up. We could listen to it now if you guys are fine with it?” 

Y/N’s head snapped up away from her plate. “No, they probably don’t want to hear it.” 

Orie snorted. “Are you kidding me? We’d love to hear it!” 

“I didn’t know you were releasing a single,” I spoke to Y/N. 

Our burning gazes locked once again. “You never asked.” 

Ouch. 

Matt hooked up his phone to the outside speaker as the opening notes of their new song began to play, Y/N’s voice dancing against my ears. 

I know it's chemicals that make me cling to you. And I need a miracle to get away from you. I know it's chemicals and I need a miracle. And I'm not spiritual but please stay cause I think you're a saint and I think you're an angel.

I nearly choked on my beer as I set down the bottle with a loud thud. 

You give me something to think about that's not the shit in my head. You're a miracle.

Miracle. 

Transparent hands were at my neck but I love the way you let me breathe instead. Take in your chemicals. You’re a miracle. 

Everyone else besides Y/N faded away to white noise as I drank in the sight of her as she stared back at me. Her lips were parted, short and shallow walls escaping from her chest. Her fingers tapped against the table along with the beat. 

Before dinner, Matt started a fire that burned towards the left of the table, the flames keeping us warm, and I slowly moved my head along to the lyrics. 

But please stay cause you're a glimpse of bliss, a little taste of heaven. 

“Angel,” I murmured under my breath. 

Now she was avoiding my gaze, keeping it directly to her fingers on the edge of the table. Her lips were moving in sync with the lyrics. 

I need a miracle to bring me back to you. I know you're gone now but I still wait for you.

No, I’m not gone. I’m right here! 

My eyes widened as I shook my head slowly, silently begging Y/N to look at me; she needed to know that I wasn’t going anywhere. I was here in front of her. Finally, as the song faded out, Y/N peered up at my through lashes and I choked on a breath, realizing that tears brimmed at the corners of her eyes. 

As everyone gave their praise for the next song, I sat stiff in my seat, not knowing exactly what to say. 

 “I loved it. It sounded amazing,” I finally said with a shy smile. 

Y/N nodded with her lips pulled in a straight line. 

Bailey twirls her pasta and then stuffed the fork in her mouth. “That song was awesome! I just love the direction your music is going lately.”

She swallowed her mouth full down with a large gulp of wine. “It’s a shame Trey didn’t work out with you guys.  I really enjoyed the flair he added.” 

My shoulders stiffened at the mention of his name and I noticed Y/N grip her fork a bit tighter. 

Why the fuck would Bailey bring up Trey- and why the hell did she think she could discuss shit she knew nothing about?

Bailey continued to ramble on. “With everything that happened I mean, it has to be hard to find time to write about things, but you do such a great job.”

Everyone at this large table is silent, not even daring to let out a breath, wondering where the direction this conversation was headed. 

Y/N brought her glass of wine, the same one she’d been nursing all dinner, to her lips to take a small sip as I stared at Bailey, perplexed. 

“Excuse me?” Y/N said. “I apologize, I must have misheard you. Did you say it’s a shame Trey didn’t work out?”

“Well yeah, I can’t imagine being challenged like that, trying to be a female in a male-dominated scene,” Bailey shrugged as if her words had no deeper meaning than they did. 

A fork dropped loudly against someone's plate while Matt scoffed loudly before almost slamming his beer bottle on the table.

“Please don’t misunderstand me!” Bailey shook her head while waving us off. “I just meant it also has to be challenging especially after Trey broke up with you and left like that. The things I found out about the break up is madness.” 

Y/N tilted her head, a low hum falling from her lips. “I don’t feel comfortable talking about this, but I must ask- how do you know all this?” 

Bailey slurped on her noodles. “Oh, well I- I read something here and there on some blogs.”

“There it fucking is.” Matt groaned while sliding his plate away from him. 

I snapped my gaze over towards him, almost recoiling in the darkness in his eyes. 

“Bailey, I think you’ve had enough wine,” I went to reach for the bottle as she began pouring another glass. 

She simply brushed me off, finishing the bottle in her glass. “It’s fine, Noah. We’re simply having a conversation. 

“I would have had our assistant  here if I had known we were doing an interview tonight,” Malcolm joked, hoping to lighten the mood. 

“I’m not trying to interview her. I just think it has to be complicated, especially if Y/N wants a relationship with someone.”

Everyone went still as Y/N and I shared a look when she stopped mid-drink, the low scowl on her lips making me slink farther into my chair, fingers scratching at my thighs in rage. 

A relationship? Why was this even a question? I wanted to get up and drag her out of here- but I was frozen solid in my spot. Almost in shock. I felt everybody’s eyes shift from Bailey to Y/N, then right on me. I caused this- I did this, and I have no one else to blame. She was pushing the limits, no pun intended.

Why Bailey was being so intrusive with Y/N was beyond me. I could feel myself ticking like a grenade.

Breathe, Noah. Breathe. 

5. 4. 3. 2. 1. 

Bailey continued to talk. “Imagine breaking up with someone you were in a band with, then changing things up, and so what if you want to? You guys have every right to but it must be lonely. I saw someone discuss it on Tumblr the other day.”

I took her glass away from her grip and set it on the side of me, near Malcolm. “I think that’s enough now.” 

“What?” Bailey scoffed. “You can’t take my drink away, Noah.” 

My eyes sliced into her. “You’re out of line, Bailey. It's enough.”

“Do you believe everything you read online?” Y/N spoke with a tensed jaw. 

Bailey shifted in her seat.  “No, I didn’t mean it like that!”

I knew Matt was gonna reach his peak soon, I could feel it. I knew it, I sensed it. He was fiddling with his beer, then his hat back to his beer again with his tongue clicking and jaw clenching. I felt like a coward, But I was a master at hiding my anger- however, it was getting there. 

Just before I went to say something, Matt snickered loudly.  

Here we go. Bracing for impact.

“Why don’t you try and say what you do mean,” Matt suggested while leaning his elbows on the table. 

“Noah.” Bailey turned to look up at me, her brown doe eyes begging for help. 

I ran a hand over my face and simply shook my head. 

I could see her face in the flames of the fire and one thought came to my mind; play with fire and you'll get burned.

MATT

I narrowed my eyes at Bailey, heart beating wildly in my chest at the audacity of this girl. She didn’t know anything about any of us, besides what she read online. She had no right to hammer Y/N with the rapid-fire questions. 

“Do you work for metal hammer or something? Why the 20 inquisitive questions based on something you read off a blog? It seems a bit out of place here, don’t you think?” 

“Matt-.” 

Jesse spoke but I held up my hand to stop him. I was on a roll before even starting and no one was going to stop me. 

“I don’t mean to be hostile but why are we all sitting here just letting this shit go on like a run-on sentence? How are you all okay with this shit? Because I know you’re not, Noah.”

He didn’t say a word, simply kept his gaze trained hard on his beer bottle in front of him as he tore away the paper around it. 

“Not trying to be rude, Bailey, but, why would you be reading gossip blogs and Reddit threads about anyone at this table? This isn’t some circus act for you to blab about.” I said. 

I didn’t want to interject, I really didn’t at first- however, it needed to be said. One of the biggest mistakes was this situation right here. The line that was drawn a long time ago and Noah needed to end it. 

When Bailey didn’t say a word, I turned my head towards Noah. “Do you have anything to add, Noah?”

“No.” He grunted under his breath. 

“Discussing anyone’s personal business while referencing blogs seems a bit immature don’t you think?” I questioned.

“Matt it’s fine, it’s okay.” Y/N’s soft voice spoke while reaching a gentle hand on my arm. 

I patted her hand with my own. “I’m just saying, it’s off-putting.”

Bailey’s lips mimicked a fish for a few seconds, stealing glances over to Noah as she silently begged him for help; he didn’t give her an ounce of attention. 

“I’m sorry, truly,” she finally apologized. “I just meant it must be hard as a female to be surrounded by men and having to handle a breakup, especially someone like Trey, and not having support.”

“I have support,” Y/N snapped, eyes slicing into Bailey. ““I have support, a lot of it and I’m offended you seem to believe I don’t. You don’t know anything about me or anything, period.”

“No, I-I know! I just mean to make it easier on you, this li-lifestyle can seem unstable,” Bailey stumbled over her words, thanks to the alcohol. 

“Damn it that’s enough!” I slammed my hand on the table, my anger finally erupting like a fucking volcano.

“Matt, come on man,” Jolly says, trying his best to break the sudden tension.

“No, fuck that. What she just said was disrespectful as hell, not just for Y/N but for all of us. It’s enough now.”

This wasn’t my battle and these weren’t my feelings. But, at least if I could do anything it would be to nip that shit in the ass. She wouldn’t disrespect my friend. She just didn’t belong here, point blank. Maybe this would awaken both of my friends' cobwebs. Go duke it out, and move forward already.

Seeing the hurt look on Y/N’s face, I let out a shaky but calm breath and pushed myself away from the table. I knew that if I stayed here a second longer, I’d say something I’d regret. 

“I apologize,” Bailey spoke quietly. 

“Yeah I know,” I took off my hat to shake out my hair, tossing it on the chair I previously sat it. “But I’m saying my peace as one who has my friends back.” 

I made it all of three steps before spinning on my heels, not quite finished with this conversation. “Also this lifestyle is our livelihood, it’s hard work and my friends out there, the dude you’re casually hanging with’ bust our asses every fucking day because it’s not a game, so when you wake up to your 9-5 tomorrow think about that.”

Dinner officially ruined, I decided to cool off on the other end of my backyard, noticing that everyone had started to either finish their cold food or disperse into other parts of the house. 

Y/N was sitting at the table with Malcolm and Chase as they rubbed her back, her shoulders shaking. While Noah and Bailey were inside the kitchen, she rambled on about fuck know’s what as he stood in front of her with his hands buried deep into his pockets. They talked for another few seconds before she walked away from him, deep into my house. 

I didn’t like the idea of her stalking around the private areas of my house. 

Quicking whipping out my phone, I texted Noah. 

Me: Dude, what the fuck are you doing? Get Bailey out of here.

I watched with astonished eyes as Noah read the text and then pocketed his phone again. 

“Stubborn mule,” I muttered while typing out another text. 

Me: I hope you don’t think that bullshit at dinner was okay. Y/N didn’t deserve any of that. This shit isn’t right. 

I smirked when I saw Noah typing away furiously on his phone. I knew mentioning Y/N would light a fire under his ass. 

Noah: I never said it was right. It’s not fucking okay with me. I have to take care of this shit.

Me: Then do it. 

Glancing back up through my house, I noticed that Noah was gone and Bailey was inside the kitchen, reaching for yet another bottle of wine. I shook my head, appalled and downright aggravated, and stomped my way past the group of my friends, hearing soft cries come from Y/N, which only angered me even more. 

I shut the door behind me just as Bailey poured herself another glass. “Another? Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

“I just-I needed a little something to take the edge off,” Bailey replied bluntly, knocking back half the glass in one go. 

I nodded while stopping in front of her so she couldn’t avoid my gaze. “Well after a conversation of prying and making the night awkward, I suppose you’d need something.”

She clicked her teeth while setting the glass on the counter. “You don’t like me, do you?”

“It’s not about liking you,” I shrugged. “I don’t care either way. And I mean no disrespect. But you disrespected my friends and their personal boundaries tonight. That’s something I can’t forgive.”

“I apologized-” she began. 

Fuck, I was so sick and tired of hearing an apology from her. To me, it meant nothing. I wasn’t the one that needed an apology. 

“Yeah yeah I know,” I waved her off. “But I’m just saying my peace as one who has my friends back.”

With one final hard stare, I dumped the rest of the wine bottle down the sink and left Bailey alone in the kitchen.

BAILEY

I stood there, frozen and aloof, as I replayed the last twenty minutes in my mind. I never meant for things to go sour the way they had, I only meant to have a simple conversation. I wasn’t used to hanging out with this large amount of people, typically keeping to my small circle of friends, and I tend to usually put my foot in my mouth more often than not; especially today. 

It had been a long time since I’d been with someone in the way I was with Noah. It wasn’t hard for me to let people in, and of course with the first big pair of brown eyes I gazed into, I was hooked; it helped that I was already a fan of who Noah was.

I knew our relationship wasn’t necessarily a relationship, he made that pretty clear from his actions, and words. We never called each other girlfriend or boyfriend, we’ve only kissed a few times, and before last night, we never were intimate. It’s been a few weeks together now and we only had sex once. I enjoyed his company, his friends seemed nice enough besides Matt.

 Y/N, though, was interesting. She was beautiful, talented as hell, and often I admired her, especially from what I’ve read of her. Perhaps, the wine got to me tonight. I spoke a lot when I drank.

After Matt’s lovely conversation, I repeatedly kept going back to last night; the night I spent with Noah. I tried with him, I had been trying to understand what the hell this was; if it was anything.

It sometimes felt like Noah needed me for comfort or something. I can't explain it, but I did everything I could to fill his needs. Last night, before we slept together, I tried to get him to agree to some plans with me.

“We should go hiking tomorrow.” I suggested. 

Noah sat at my island, aimlessly scrolling through his phone, not bothering to gaze up at me, “I already have plans.”

I frowned while setting the beer bottles on the kitchen counter. “Well, we could go to the river if you want to.”

“Next week sometime,” he mumbled. 

I sighed but wasn’t ready to give up. “Maybe we can take a drive somewhere.”

“No.”

“Well, I’m just asking.” I snapped while handing him his beer. 

Noah grunted as he drank half of his beer in one go.

I didn’t fight him when he slipped out of bed later that night. I didn’t argue. A kiss on the cheek and he was gone like the wind.

Movement in front of me brought me back to the present and I saw Noah; those big brown eyes that dragged me into him. His hands were stuffed in the pocket of his yellow hoodie as those eyes were straight in one direction.; Y/N.

Interesting. 

My heart dropped slightly as I watched a faint smile on his face, those brown eyes sparkled in a way that was never directed towards me. 

Noah’s demeanor around me changed often when Y/N was close by. I never could figure out why; I still didn’t know. I couldn’t help but feel jealous as I noticed the way he continued to watch her every movement as she playfully messed around with Malcolm. She was the center of Noah’s attention and I fucking hated it.

I wanted to feel important. I wanted Noah to look at me the way he did Y/N even if it was just for 5 minutes. 

“Fuck this,” I said through gritted teeth before storming through the patio doors. 

NOAH

“Oi, fuck you! Maláka!” 

Y/N ran from Malcolm as he chased her around the edge of the pool, trying to toss her in.

 “I told you, I hate when you talk to me in Greek! I never know what you’re saying!” Malcolm froze momentarily behind a chair; one that was in the way between him and Y/N. 

She stuck out her tongue at him. “Did you not listen to any of the lessons I gave you and Chase?” 

Malcolm shrugged. “It’s a lot to understand. Can you blame me?” 

“She called you a wanker,” Chase stopped his conversation with Bryan and Michael briefly.

Y/N’s giggles echoed into the night air and I watched with a small smile on my lips as Malcolm continued to chase her around the pool. To see her so free and happy after that awkward dinner made my heart warm, it sent heat throughout my entire body.  

Suddenly my face was grabbed and I was pulled down to someone's lips that tasted of red wine. Bailey’s hands wrapped around my neck, deepening the kiss as she forced her tongue into my mouth, and my hands limply grasped her hips so I could push her away. 

Immediately my eyes snapped over to Y/N, who was watching the entire scene with watery eyes. Her and Malcolm stopped their playful banter and Y/N shook her head, giving me her back.  

I then snapped my attention towards Bailey, taking a step away from her. “Why would you do that?”

“Just felt the need,” she shrugged.

“Well, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t do that again.” I cleared my throat while adjusting my sweater. 

Matt waved me over and I took that as an opportunity to leave Bailey. As I walked up to him, he showed me his phone; a picture. It was from earlier today, the sun blasting its strong rays across Y/N as she laid out on her elbows next to the pool. Her bright red bikini, almost blinding with the sunlight. Her boobs were perfect in that top, her entire physique was incredible. However, that damned smile was what got me. It had its hooks dug deep into me. That’s what pulled me in every time. 

Also in the picture was me, sitting on the other end of the pool, and it was clear that I was enjoying the view of Y/N; a large grin plastered to my face. 

“If this is to prove something I already know, you’re wasting your time,” I said while crossing my arms. 

Matt snorted before showing me something else. It was an array of other pictures, all from today, all posted to an Instagram profile; Bailey’s. 

“What the fuck,” I snapped. “She posted pictures?” 

“Yeah, loads of them. I know how you’ve been lately about your privacy so I wanted to show you.” 

A fire burned in my chest as I swiftly turned on my heels, teeth grinding together, as I stormed back over to Bailey. 

“You posted pictures?” 

She was taken aback by my sudden outburst, eyes dancing around us to see if others were listening. 

“I-uh. Yes. I didn’t think you would mind?” 

I narrowed my eyes. “You never fucking asked me.” 

“For fucks sake, Noah. It’s just a picture, it’s not that deep,” she rolled her eyes. 

“It is to me, I don’t want it out there. It’s an invasion of privacy and all I ask is that you fucking respect it.” 

Bailey stiffened slightly. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I never thought of it like that but I guess stuff like this is really sensitive in your industry. You don’t want the record label to see things you might be doing that you shouldn’t.” 

I gave her a dumbfounded look, appalled that she completely missed the meaning behind my words. How did me saying I want privacy in my personal life correlate to my life in the music industry? 

“It has nothing to do with that,” I said with slight annoyance. “I just don’t want my shit out there without my permission.”

“Why are you acting so weird today? I thought after last night you would be less tense?” Bailey ran a finger down my chest. “I could help ease that tension again. Do you want to come by tonight for round two? Maybe this time we could try a different position where my face isn’t buried in a pillow. I wasn’t a huge fan that way.”

As those dreaded words fell from her lips, Chase happened to be walking past us but froze. My regretful eyes locked with his fiery ones for the briefest of moments. 

“No,” I pushed her hand away from my chest. 

Chase’s jaw dropped, the metal can in his grasp crunching with his anger. 

With my fingers wrapped around Bailey’s, I began to lightly drag her away from Chase.

“I’m taking Bailey home,” I called out. “She has an early shift tomorrow.” 

Unsure if it was all the alcohol or embarrassment from tonight's events but Bailey didn’t argue, simply waved goodbye to everyone as I led her through the gate, towards the front of the house where I was parked. 

“Oh fuck, my purse!” she skidded to a stop. 

With a groan, I ran a hand over my mouth. “I’ll wait for you in the car.” 

As soon as her form disappeared into the house, Chase came storming out from the gate of the backyard, steam blowing out of his ears. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He snapped while shoving me slightly. 

I stumbled back into my car then pushed his hands off of me. “Excuse me? Don’t touch me.” 

“No! I’ve had it with this bullshit,” Chase’s voice echoed throughout the normally quiet street. “I’m done with you treating Y/N like she’s everything you want and all you need. But yet, you’re pulling some college guy crap. That’s my sister out there!” 

He pointed behind him towards Matt’s house. “Do you think she deserves that? For you to make out with her in this car then twenty minutes later you go fuck Bailey?” 

“Stop, stop! Please. Just shut up! Let me explain this!” I held up my hands, trying to get my own thoughts straight. 

The last thing I expected was to have Bailey blab about what we did last night especially in front of someone who was close to Y/N. Regret already weighed down my heavy heart because of my actions last night. Guilt ate away at me for not only using Bailey as an outlet for sex but for Y/N and the way I completely shattered her trust. 

“You better start talking, Noah or I’m going to tell Y/N myself. This is fucking ridiculous,” Chase placed his hands on his hips. 

I nodded. “I will.” 

NICK R.

We waved goodbye to Malcolm and Y/N as they met up with Chase inside, ready to head home after this disaster of an evening. While it had its high points, ever since the awkward dinner, the tension never faltered from how thick it was. So slowly, people were starting to leave. But I hung back with Folio, Jolly, and Matt.

“Are we going to talk about how fucking weird dinner was? What was up with the twenty questions bullshit?” Matt asked, anger still radiating off of him. 

He was always the one to stick up for us whether it be against fans online who thought they had the right to judge our actions or people that did us wrong in our private lives.

“It was a disaster from the moment Noah walked inside with her,” Jolly sighed. “I tried telling him how bad of an idea it was but you know how he is.” 

Folio spoke up next after typing away on his phone. “If we didn’t know Y/N and the kind of person she was, I’d say Noah’s type in women is shit.” 

“He’s growing, it’s just hard for him,” I reminded them with a shrug. 

Matt ran a hand over his face. “We know. It’s just aggravating watching him sometimes.” 

“Y/N and Noah are both so stubborn,” I said. “They’re both flawed people but they’re trying, even a blind person can see that. But despite their differences, they have one important thing in common; they love each other.” 

NOAH

My car eased to a stop in front of Bailey’s apartment, letting it idle for a few moments as I let the continued silence fill the air. The entire drive to her place was quiet. I didn’t even turn the radio on. I needed complete silence to ease my racing thoughts. 

Tired eyes fluttered shut with Y/N’s broken face staring back at me. We had deliberately shifted our relationship from what happened last night. When I woke up this morning, slightly hungover but ready for the prospect of the future, I thought for a moment of coming to Matt’s today and telling Y/N I loved her. But plans changed and my interior rules shifted, almost like brakes on my own desires. 

I knew, however, in order to tell Y/N about how I feel, I needed to get out of this tangled mess I found myself with the person next to me. 

Nevertheless, there was a vague understanding that had to be tactfully broken off before I could be free. If I knew how to do it without Bailey getting hurt, I would have. 

Y/N left the car in such a hurry last night, leaving me with yet another hole in my gut. I was fucking tired of watching her walk away from me; from us. I wanted her to stay with me. Why was that so hard for her? 

Ultimately, my heart was hers by design. The need to control everything pauses temporarily in her presence. 

I knew everything was trash, especially after what happened tonight. I knew that what I was doing with both Bailey and Y/N wasn’t right. It stood firm that the fear of Y/N leaving me in every situation kept me from lifting my foot from the breaks. Everyone suspects themselves of at least one of the cardinal virtues, and this was mine. 

As of last night, I’m one of the few honest people I’d ever know. But it was clear; I not only needed help, I needed a fucking miracle. 

You’re a miracle.

Y/N’s soft angelic voice came flooding back in my mind making my heart race. 

With a sigh, Bailey’s voice broke the quiet air. “You seemed on edge all day today, everything alright?” 

“Me?” I broke my trance away from the empty road in front of me to her. “I’m fine.” 

Her brows pulled together. “You sure?” 

“I mean, besides you giving Y/N a Rock Sound interview tonight, everything went just fine.” 

Bailey’s grip on her bag tightened. “I wasn’t trying to have an interview with her. I was just asking questions.” 

I snorted. “Well, it sounded like an interview to us. Asking her personal questions isn’t cool, Bailey.” 

Her eyes narrowed. “Okay, Noah. Whatever, I get it.” 

“No,” I shook my head while turning my body towards her in the car. “I don’t think you do. But it’s fine.” 

“Why are you being so hard headed about this? We were just having girl talk.” 

“Girl talk?” I scoffed while running a hand over my chin. “I don’t think it was appropriate of you to bring up Trey or her love life. It’s still a sore spot for her. She went through a lot of bullshit with him, some things she’s still dealing with. Something you cant find out on a fucking tumblr blog.” 

Bailey hesitated and I could tell she wanted to say more before nodding slowly. “Alright, I’m sorry.” 

I waved her off. “It’s whatever.” 

Silence fell between us again only this time, it didn’t last as long as the time before.

 “Sometimes when you talk to me, I feel like you don’t even see me,” Bailey admitted while picking at a piece of lint or dirt on her sundress. 

I didn’t answer, only because I didn’t have one for her. Instead, I kept my gaze down at my lap. 

My silence made her chuckle. “Look, a woman knows when a man looks into her eyes and sees someone else”. 

“Now you know I can't give you anything you want. Right?” I lifted my gaze to her, voice dark. “I can’t. Because they’re gone. They’re broken.”

“Who hurt you, Noah?” Bailey reached for me but I shifted myself away from her.

“I’m not discussing this with you,” I replied flatley. 

“Something is breaking your heart; I can sense that.”

“Already broken” I mumbled, not caring if she caught it or not.

“Well,” she cleared her throat. “Are you sure you don’t want to come inside?” 

Bailey’s persistence made me think back to my conversation with Chase. 

“Please Noah, I know feelings and expressing them are hard for you, but understand how selfish this is. It’s hard for Y/N to but if you can’t handle this then, please let her go.” Chase ran a hand over his buzzed head.

“No! I’m not fucking letting her go,” I firmly shook my head, standing my ground against him. 

 Chase sighed. “You tell all of us your feelings except the one who needs to hear it.”

“It’s not that easy, Chase.”

“End the mess you created tonight. It’s not doing anyone any favors,” he scoffed.

Completely ignoring her offer, I cleared my throat. “Listen, before you leave I need to talk to you about something.” 

Something changed on her face; excitement? Hope? 

“Oh? What about?”

“Here’s the thing, this-.” 

I pointed between us just as my phone began to ring. 

“Incoming call from Fish Boy. Answer?”

“Who’s fish boy?” Bailey wondered. 

“Folio,” I sighed while declining the call. “Look, I have to go. I’ll call you tomorrow.” 

To execute my point even further that I was not coming inside with her tonight, I unlocked the door, not bothering to look her way as she slowly left the car. The door was barely shut before I sped away from the curb.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian reader insert #noah sebastian smut #enemies to lovers #right person wrong time #starcrossed lovers

[weebsinstash]

Hello! I don’t know if you do this but I was wondering what your thoughts were for a Yandere Lucifer Morningstar from Hazbin Hotel? I’m having trouble writing a good representation of him and would like some advice.

Honestly I'm gonna humble myself and say that it took reading someone else's post to make me like, REALLY notice the nuances of Lucifer's character

This post right here literally made me rewatch his scenes and go "oh wow he IS like DANGEROUSLY DEPRESSED"

He doesn't remember Charlie told him where she is, or what she's doing, and he can barely follow a conversation despite clearly trying to pay attention. He also just seems kind of scattered, and um, HE LITERALLY MAKES A JOKE ABOUT DYING FROM FALLING OFF THE HOTEL BALCONY like dude is making jokes about death in front of his fucking daughter, like my dudes, I think this guy is BARELY holding himself together

He clearly loves loves LOVES Charlie but he doesn't really know how to properly articulate himself and I have a feeling there's a lot he's concealing from her, and another big question is, is his depression from being cast out of Heaven, or from something to do with his missing wife, or a combination of both? Either way this man is clearly dealing with like, really bad issues. And Charlie also mentioned he wasn't around a whole lot when she was younger, so... did he have depression back then too?

So, that all said, I feel like a yandere Lucifer would almost be, potentially invigorated by his darling? Given a new lease on life? He may not be 100% his old self again but, you get him to like, 65, maybe 70% on a good day. You give him another reason to get out of bed in the morning, or afternoon, or evening or, whenever he can drag his depressed ass out of bed

Given what we currently know, I feel like a romantic yandere Lucifer would pretend to only be platonic and do his best to poorly conceal his feelings because of his whole... "can't ask his missing wife if it's ok for you to be their third" ordeal, the man still wears his wedding ring, and a platonic yandere Lucifer basically adopts you like another kid, because uh, I mean for one he apparently canonically missed a lot of Charlie's childhood, and he's also an ancient fallen angel, so he's got that age advantage on you no matter how old you are. I mean what are a few decades when he's literally thousands upon thousands upon thousands--you get the idea

Yandere Lucifer would want to stay close to you, helping watch over you, maaaaaybe being overly paranoid about you randomly disappearing and going missing For Very Obvious Reasons, and in the process he winds up being unintentionally overbearing. I mean, he did it in irritation, but he basically showed up at Charlie's hotel immediately saying it was a dump and all of HER FRIENDS were 'a bunch of losers'. He never completely pulls his punches when there's something he's displeased with, even if it has something to do with someone he loves, so his darling would get much of the same treatment. "Ohhhhh, you uh, you wanted to move across the city? That's, um, definitely a fun idea! BuuuuuUuuut, what IF, instead of doing that--", like, he tries to playfully tug you in 'the right direction' until you make him put his foot down

Hmmm... what would him losing his cool look like... well, we've already seen that he doesn't mind throwing hands and WILL KILL, but will stop if he's asked to or there's a good reason. With you, though, you're not typically going to be there to stop him from offing any rivals or bad influences, so I imagine he'd be kinda casual about it, actually! He already thinks pretty lowly of Sinners, so say he finds out you've been ditching him and Charlie to go out drinking with strangers, making new friends, maybe having a few one night stands? Yeah, some of those people definitely aren't calling you back, and Lucifer doesn't really see a problem with it. These people are kind of the worst and really don't deserve you, anyways! If anything he's helping clean up Hell for you and his daughter and keeping you safe :)

Losing his cool with YOU... I think would involve him using his powers to finally confine you, maybe even going demon mode to intimidate you into submission in a very dad-esque "now you listen HERE" kind of way. We don't really know the scope and scale of his powers but I can picture him at least being, obviously much stronger than he looks, and transforming to fly you "back home" where he puts you in your room where no one can reach you without his explicit permission (and you also can't leave~)

One second you're just drunk and jokingly defying him, teasing him, maybe even picking him up and swinging him around because you're bigger than him, to you he's just a silly little guy! Meanwhile this Grown Ass Man Who Is Also The Actual Devil is getting more than just a little frustrated you basically view him as a wacky little cartoon more than a grown man, one who has had sex and has had two wives and sired a child. You're just teasing him and stumbling around drunk when he's trying to get you to your hotel room to get to bed to sleep, like you're clearly not taking him seriously, maybe even playfully putting your hands on him (TOTALLY not riling him up in 'fun' ways) and he finally just huffs and snaps his fingers and, you're suddenly magic'd to bed! You're laying there blinking confused and he's tucking you in and chuckling that "you're such a handful!" before leaving you to sleep and somehow INSTANTLY knowing when you're up.

You ARE in his house, after all...

Not to be gross but uh..... I'm not saying "yandere Lucifer who has the power to still get a Sinner pregnant if he wanted to and you wind up fooling around with him and you're waking up with his little apple symbol on your lower tummy as one of those like hentai womb tattoos to show you're pregnant" but uhhhhhhhhhhyeah that's what I'm saying, and whether it was accidentally or intentionally, he's keeping it, and thus, keeping YOU

I just feel like he'd be very goofy and awkward and bad at hiding his feelings and being very clearly overprotective and jealous in ways everyone else but you manages to pick up on (god Alastor would have some MATERIAL) and, in a romantic/sexual setting he eventually just loses his patience with you not seeing him as a man and just gets... progressively more forward. You pop back into the Hotel after a night out and Lucifer's already hammered at the bar with Husk, stumbling up to you, hanging off of you, slurring and embarrassing himself, "You'reeeee SO pretty... like SO pretty.... do you wanna have *BELCH* you wanna fuck? Cause I LOVE to fuck, like when I FUCKED my wife to make my DAUGHTER, my wife and daughter that I have, 'cuz im a DAD, 'cuz I'm a MAN!" and you're just giggling and ruffling his hair, "You're so weird, dude ^^" and walking away while Lucifer internally screams, wondering just how DIRECT with you he's going to have to be

meanwhile Charlie is totally cool with all of this and sees this as a weird double whammy of Curing Dad's Depression + new family member and friend hurray! and she's totally actively either shipping you with her dad or aiding and abetting him in his weird attempts to absorb you into the Morningstar family

#yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hellaverse #yandere x reader #hh #sinprompts

[thedilfoccult]

SUBJECT OF PERVERSION // DR>CRANE X READER

—————————————————————————————————————————————————

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x Reader / Dr.Crane!Teacher x Student / Teacher x Student

Summary | Private, all girls boarding school is hell. A hormone fest mixed with underage activity and substances is the equation for disaster. To make matters worse, the new psychology teacher Dr.Crane is the topic for all girls perversions. His fixations have landed on none other than the exceeding grade, misbehaved, foul mouth student who hides herself in the corner of his classroom. With Y/N’s boarding room being on the first floor, it was an open invitation for his stalking, wanting to figure out each and every behavioural pattern she inhabited. With an attachment to the liquid courage, nights turned into days in which alcohol was drank. How Dr.Crane reacts to her intoxicated behaviour and mischief in his classroom leads to nothing but confessions of lust and actions of taboo.

Warnings | Disgusting mouth watering smut, age!gap (17/18 fem!reader x 39 Dr.Crane. I’m a dog for older men and I always have been, pls don’t read if a massive age gap freaks you or you find it offensive), stalker/pervy Dr.Crane, alcohol + cigs consumption. Just dirty filthy smut tbh. COMPLETELY fictional, maybe out of character? Just sexy Cillian in glasses & suit = authoritative figure. Power dynamic, dominant, forceful? Dr.Crane. Loss of virginity. Corrupting innocence, public-ish / risky £ex.

Notes | First published writing! I love relationship dynamics which are downright gross. A teacher x student and/or older man with a younger girl (myself) is more than a guilty pleasure. Situations that should most definitely not be taking place romantically or sexually is my most specialised writing topic. No one but me and my English teacher have read shit I’ve written, big scary for me but its anon so easier. Not expecting attention from this post or any of my writing tbh, just rotting away in my bed from depression and feel like this is the best I can do to start just doing something again. Judgement all welcome if any critic is felt, the more you hate the more it turns me on! (My father was NOT present.) I wanted to write something wrong, perverted, sexual and unseen in society. I love love love reading gross smut / fics so also if any suggestions come to mind with anything disturbing you’ve read, pleeeeassseee pass it along. Please enjoy!or don’t, I don’t really care. Mwah.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

“Who do you think the new teacher will be?” Rachel asks applying her sticky lipgloss through her heart shaped pocket mirror, smacking her lips together before snapping the mirror shut.

“Can’t be certain. Only freaks live in Gotham, they couldn’t of hired anyone good.” Y/N answers, curling the bottom of her plaid skirt between her fingers.

“It’s the fresh meat that counts. Maybe it’s a male” Rachel giggles biting her French tips.

“Like that would make a difference. Have you seen who lives in this city?” Eyebrows raised and bottom lip bitten, smirk growing. “I couldn’t be one to judge though, I’d even go as low as the joker. He’s kinda cute.” Y/N admits, causing Rachel and herself to burst into a laughing fit.

“I think the only freak here is you… I can’t blame you though, being locked up in our dorms in this fucking school is enough to drive any girl to a scar-faced psycho.” Rachel sighs in agreement.

“Shall we go? See who the new bore will be?”

Rachel stands up and reaches for Y/N’s hand, Y/N reaching out and standing with her. Linking arms, they make their way giggling and whispering all the way through the darkened halls to their psychology class, commentating on every other person passing them in the halls. With Y/N’s white shirt two sizes too big, a loose black tie that hung just below the third unbuttoned clasp and a skirt crinkled and fit to the size of a 12 year old, she was the face of trouble. Besides sneaking mass bulks of cigarettes in her luggage back to the dorms after each holiday at her parents house and breaking out to buy small bottles of vodka to entertain herself and Rachel each weekend, she was shockingly the brightest student in the final year of boarding school. The face of mischief, the mind of intelligence and the personality of a wild child, she was quite the topic of interest for her teachers. Constantly in the principles office or being called on, the only thing keeping her from getting expelled is her exceptional grades. Practically growing up in Gothams Boarding School, the faculty has become her family knowing her longer and more personally than her parents ever have. Truth was her family are loaded, spoilt and detached, not wanting to deal with Y/N’s antics as she hit her teen years, sending her away from Brooklyn to Gotham to show her truly how scary the ‘real’ world is. It’s completely backfired though, it’s given her the opportunity to truly explore how far she can break the boundaries, seeing just how much trouble she can get away with without taking it too far. Y/N has taken it too far, too many times. Drinking before school starts as Rachel and her blast music through the stereo as they untwist their hair from the overnight braids they left in, stuffing cigarettes in their push up bras to smoke in the staircase in between classes. Nobody has seemingly caught the pair yet, encouraging them to consume more and push the boundaries even further. They blame it up to boredom, lack of society and more importantly lack of testosterone.

—

Rachel guides the way to the doors of the classroom, peaking her head around the door that’s open ajar wanting to see who the new psychology teacher may be. A deep gasp escapes her lips as she snaps her head back to Y/N, jaw dropped and the sides of her lips in a slight upward curve.

“Y/N! It is a male… and he’s hot!” Another giggle leaving her lips as she practically screams her whispers.

“Shhhh, get out the way- let me see”

Low and behold, there he stood, a man with a razor sharp jawline and piercing blue eyes. Even from this distance, Y/N could see how cold they were. Opening the door slightly more to get a better look, the teacher is sat on the edge of his desk facing the classroom. He slowly directs his attention to the girl peaking her head in the classroom.

“Shit!” Y/N pulls back. “He saw me!” Shaking her hands frantically in embarrassment and guilt.

The two girls share a moment staring into each others eyes before beginning to squeal, excitedly jumping up and down.

Within seconds, their interaction is interrupted as the door swings open and the slim frame is standing in the doorway, glaring down at the pair of teenagers in annoyance through the glasses sat on his nose. Clearing his throat to get their attention, Y/N and Rachel stop in an instant and their eyes widen as their gaze lands on his face.

“If you are students in my class, I suggest you immediately take a seat inside. If not, I ask you kindly to keep walking and not disrupt those who actually are”. The sternness in his voice is close to threatening, almost daring you to say the wrong thing.

“Sorry sir” Y/N and Rachel say in unison, ducking there heads down and shuffling themselves inside. As Y/N passed him in the doorway, the scent of a deep cologne hit her nose. A scent she’s never smelt so up close before, masculine. Of course, being stuck in an all-girls boarding school it isn’t everyday she could smell the scent of a full grown man so close, so real. This sends shockwaves through her body, literally feeling the chemicals burst in her brain from the hormones being released from being so close to the opposite sex. Moving swiftly and as quietly as possible, Y/N finds a seat in the corner of the class, Rachel sitting eagerly placing herself next to her.

“Uh-Uh” The man at the front of the class says. “I don’t think so girls.” Shaking his index finger, he pauses and points directly at Y/N.

“You.” His finger drops to the very seat sat directly in front of his desk, in fact, the only empty seat left. “Front of the class, now please.” His eyes strictly stay on Y/N’s, waiting for her to move herself to her new seat. Disappointment seeped into his words, causing a wave of shame to run over her.

A heat prickled up Y/N’s neck and found itself onto her cheeks. It wasn’t the fact that a teacher had spoken to her in a slight tone in front of the class, oh god no. Much worse has happened by much scarier teachers. It was because it was a man. Who smelt nice. Who had cheekbones that could slice marble and eyes that pierced your soul. As she dragged herself off the desk, taking his words seriously, her feet barely leaving the ground and she walked to the front of the class. Luckily, no other students seemingly cared for the exchange, too busy chatting amongst themselves to notice Y/N getting a speaking to yet again. His eyes grazed over her legs as she walked up to the seat, taking in the exposed skin and landing ever so slightly on the buttons undone on her chest. His eyes seemingly bored but his mouth twirling into a half smirk. Almost as if he had laser beams coming out his iris’s, the heat spread like wildfire down her body to her core, the contact of his eyes felt as if he was eating her alive. Slumping into the desk and covering herself with her backpack, she gripped the cotton attempting to squeeze some of her embarrassment out. His eyes were glued to her the whole time as he slowly slid his hands in his pockets and took strides over to her desk.

“and your name is?” His hands slid back out and placed them both at either ends of the desk, bending over in an attempt to intimidate her into feeling small. Of course, a psychological trick to assert his dominance with his body language. Easily fooled and susceptible to being manipulated by an older, educated man, Y/N’s face grew redder and redder with fear. Or was it arousal? The heat growing between her thighs as he stared down degradingly made it clear which it was. The physiological reaction to being so close to him took her aback, made her feel like a prude, wrong in her own skin. Obviously, Y/N had been around grown men before but they didn’t have those blue eyes that stared at her bare skin below her skirt, lingering on her chest with a smirk on their face.

Staring up with her eyes wide, crossing her legs over and attempting to squeeze the foreign feeling away, her small voice coating in the dryness of her mouth and ears filled with the beating of her heart.

“Y/N, sir” His facial expression dropped to a chuckle. “Hmm” A small hum fell from his lips and he stands back up and walks to the front. A sense of relief trickled down her chest and she felt like she could breath again.

“Quiet please” The class slowly calmed and turned their attention to the front.

“Right… my name is Dr.Crane. I am your new psychology teacher.” Dr.Crane pauses, his eyes scanning the room. He ensures to land on Y/N’s eyes for a brief moment before taking a deep breath and continuing turning his eyes onto the remaining students in the room. “I am a highly respected psychologist at Arkham Asylum and I accept no less of treatment from you. I am here to make you pass your finals at the end of the year and if you do not, that is not my issue. I have no faults in my teaching nor in my knowledge. I take this subject extremely seriously and do not care for your lame excuses. I know how badly behaved some of you are..” His eyes land yet again on Y/N, almost as if he was speaking directly to her. “… and I know that some of you are the exact reason a new teacher had to be hired. Your behaviour pushed the last one away.” A superficial grin plastered his face. “I will not stand for it and will immediately fail you, no questions asked. Got it?”

Y/N chuckled under her breath, amused by his narcissism. Immediately regretting her choice of reaction her eyes darted to the floor, feeling the burn of how intensely he was looking at her. Sheepishly, her eyes lifted off the ground and not to her surprise a look of annoyance and down right offence had covered his face.

“Let’s begin”.

The class passes smoothly with Y/N not bringing anymore unnecessary attention to herself, feeling embarrassed that he so clearly created a strong dislike for her from the first time he laid eyes on her. Quietly copying the notes from the paused screen, she couldn’t help but have her eyes occasionally glance over at Dr.Crane, her heart quickening as she realised he too was looking at her. As the lesson wraps up and students eagerly pack their bags to run out the door, she was interrupted by the stern voice saying “Y/N, please just stay for a minute will you”. He didn’t even look up, not even saying it as a question. The words fell so quickly from his lips it’s almost like saying her name or anything to her at all was a waste of breath. “Yes, Dr.Crane”.

The class emptied and he signalled for her to come closer with two fingers, leaning back into his chair and man-spreading in a way she could peer over the desk to see. That’s exactly what she did, even going as far as to lift her chin ever so slightly to get a better look. The only thing that snapped her away from her day dream was when Dr.Crane cleared his throat, Staring at her through raised eyebrows and an amused smile.

“Y/N. No more repeats of today in any other of my lessons, do you understand? I need you to behave for me. I’ve seen your grades but the other teachers have warned me of your attitude. I will fail you if you do not do the things I need you to.” I need you to behave for me. She felt herself squeeze the empty space between her thighs as the result of his words. Personally, she didn’t think she even behaved even slightly out of sorts at all, it seemed like he was just picking on her. To be honest, she’d prefer his negative attention over no attention from him at all.

“Will do sir.” Considering this was the closest she’d ever gotten to a man in her whole 17 years of being alive and he was considerably attractive, it didn’t take long for her touch-starved, horned up teenage mind to take control of this. In the silence she pictured him bending her over the desk, her ass bright red and burning with his fingerprints. She imagined her underwear and skirt pooled around her ankles as he pounded into her unforgivingly, tearing her apart from the inside and abusing her pussy to his liking. The thought alone could’ve made her whimper. The air turned tense and thick with the silence as her imagination filled the space between them, almost as if he was listening to her every thought as he stared into her eyes waiting for her next move.

“And one more thing. I’ll have to issue you a dress code violation” A fake half-smile plastered his face, slowly turning into a fake half-frown in an almost mockingly like manner.

“What? Why?” Confusion took over Y/N’s face.

“Your skirt is incredibly…” his eyes leave hers and shamelessly stare at her legs, even slightly lowering his head for a second to peek lower “…short”. His face scrunched up in cringe.

“Oh… no other teacher has mentioned it. Maybe you just shouldn’t look then” Y/N shrugged both shoulders, grinning innocently at him.

Her sudden attitude took him aback. “Young lady. Don’t speak to me like that. I expect it to be at least ironed by next class.” His voice liquid smooth and low, almost entertaining her attempt of arguing back. “If its not, I will have to deal with it myself. Do you understand?”

Please do.

“I understand sir.” Y/N was obviously not going to change anything about her appearance for him. The fact that he even suggested something about her skirt made her insides buzz.

“Now go.” He shooed her away. I don’t want you be late for your next class.” Dr.Crane stood up and walked her towards the door, his hand guiding her on the dip in her back. Though he touched her through her skirt, the skin in which he made contact with was on fire, vibrating around the dents in his finger tips. Before Y/N could walk both feet out, a firm grip caught her just above the elbow causing her to snap back at him. His eyes strict and focused on hers.

“Behave.”

—

“How was your quickie with Dr.Crane?” Rachel teased at lunch, grabbing her breasts as she moaned his name.

“I wish. My insides were on fire. I was dripping with every word he spoke.” Y/N played along, nudging her.

“Oh I bet. He’s incredibly sexy. No doubt the whole school will be dropping their panties for him. Practically legs spread on his desk begging for it.” Rachel winked over at her.

“I’ll be the first too. Do you think he’s staying on campus?” Y/N was suddenly filled with questions. The thought that he too may be living on campus was exciting, for her fantasies and drunk escapades with Rachel will be that much more interesting. She imagined herself ‘accidentally’ stumbling into his dorm after one too many, knocking on his door as he’d open it and take advantage of her. Her clit pulsed as her mind played with the idea that he would even want her sexually, it was exhilarating.

“We’ll find out. We should sneak out our dorms tonight and see if we can find him to, you know, stalk for educational purposes?”

“Good idea Rach, come to mine for a few drinks first? Liquid courage?” Y/N suggested.

“You know me too well” Rachel gleamed and brought Y/N into a hug.

—

5pm read on the clock in Y/N’s dorm. The room was filled with the bass of guitars from The Beatles blasting through the stereo. A half empty bottle of vodka sat cap-less on her cupboard that had all sorts of lace bras and panties spilling out each of the drawers. Empty cans of Coke Zero covered the floor, some who had fallen and some still stood upright.

“It’s already 5 Rach, we should get to his class to see if he’s still there” Y/N excitedly jumped up from the bed, placing her empty glass next to the bottle.

“Just give me a second” Rachel downed the last third left in her hand and pinched her nose and eyes at the taste of alcohol. Walking up to the dresser, she grabs a bottle of her Victoria secret perfume and gave herself and Y/N a few sprits. “We probably stink of it. Better safe than sorry”

The pair open the door slightly as move through the crack, wiggling their way of the room. Practically tip toeing, they leave the hall of their dorm undetected and onto the school field on route to their psychology class. Although 5pm isn’t late, the wardens are strict on after school hours and students being allowed out especially on school nights.

Finally arriving at the science building, the girls hide two doors down peaking their head around the corner.

“You go!” Rachel whispered.

“Why me? What happens if he sees me?” Y/N practically shouting back.

“This was your idea… also I’m nervous.” Rachel giggles. “Also, he’s spoken to you more. If he sees you he might not be as mad”

“I highly doubt that. I don’t think he likes me too much I-“ Their conversation interrupted by a door swinging open. To be more exact, the door two doors down swinging open.

Y/N’s heart drops and both girls eyes go wide.

“Who’s there?” Dr. Crane’s voice fills the empty hall. “I can hear you, you know. You shouldn’t be out of dorms at this time until dinner is prepared. Show yourself to me”

Rachel pushes Y/N out from their hiding space, signalling her to go. ‘This is your chance’ Rachel mouthed.

Dr. Crane sighs as he snaps his head at Y/N’s sudden appearance. “Hi Sir”

“And how can I help you this time?” Dr. Crane seems almost relieved to see her? Y/N wasn’t great at picking up hints, especially from a male but his voice wasn’t filled with disappointment as it was earlier in the day.

“Um… I’m sorry to disturb you I- maybe I- left something in the classroom?” Y/N wasn’t even sure what she was saying, her heart pounding thickly in her chest and causing a warm heat to burst on the skin covering her. She felt like she was going red, which in turn made her go even redder.

“Ah, I see. Well… come in” He swiftly turns around, not even bothering to hold the door for her. By the time she reaches the door, it’s slammed shut in her face.

‘Fuck’ she mouths to Rachel, who returns the favour by shooting her a double thumbs up.

As Y/N enters the classroom, Dr. Crane is already sat comfortably on his desk with his head in paperwork. She moves slowly and carefully attempting to not make any sound as the air is pressing down on her lungs making her feel unwelcome to be in his presence.

Without breaking his eyes off the paper laying on his desk he voices “You’re nervous.”

She stops in her tracks and to look up at him without raising her head, her eyes trailing up from the desk to meet his. “No I’m not.” A fake confidence overtakes her words, eyes rolling to the back of her head.

“Are you insulting my intelligence, Y/N?” His chin raising to look at her through his squinting eyes. “You’re a smart girl. You know you didn’t leave anything in my classroom.”

“I am not, Dr. Crane. I’m just here to see if I’ve left my notebook at my desk.” She gives the desk a quick scan from a distance feeling the pulse resuscitate between her legs from earlier, a dull ache filling her panties. She only just met the man, it’s as if he had a chemical attached to him that made her react so physiologically to him. How degrading he was, how blunt and intelligent yet insulting he could be.

“Hm, interesting. Considering you had your class with me after snack and it is now, what? 5:30 in the evening? You’ve only just come back now to find something you left here, in my classroom, 6 hours later? If I didn’t know any better I’d think you just came back here to see me.” His words filled with pride and a sense of accomplishment he presses down on Y/N. Enjoying to watch how flustered she becomes and the darkening red that spreads across her perked chest and soft cheeks. The sight of her now standing with her loose tie exposing her neck and white knee socks, noting how the left side is slightly more pulled up than the right, anxiously holding one of her arms in her hand rubbing to relieve some of her tension was enough for his pants to tighten around his crotch. Though he’d only just met her, he knew this would be a fun year for him. How long until the girl breaks for his cock? How long until she can’t stand the pulsating he can almost see up her skirt and makes a filthy, inappropriate move on her psychology teacher. The thought of sexually tormenting her by saying the right things and just enough skin contact to make her melt appealed to him. It got him stiff through both his underwear and suit pants to the point if he stood up now, she’d be able to see his print so perfectly. He wanted to test just how much pressure he could place her under, just to see her squirm under his dominance.

“I think you’re wrong Dr. Crane… I did lose my notebook, clearly not here” Y/N felt intrigued by his ability to read through her, how his intelligence answered him for her. She uses her attitude in a defence to try and bring authority to herself.

“My mistake… Y/N. Please forgive me for assuming such a thing.” A grin covered his face and she knew he was mocking her, almost making fun of how pathetic her excuse was to just end up in his classroom. “If I may, I will walk you back to your dorm. If I see you out of your room one more time this week I will be bringing it up to the higher up, understand?” Y/N quickly, almost too eagerly, shook her head in affirmative. “Good girl”.

The nickname ran fire through her blood, tears forming on her thighs as the praise made her feel somewhat proud, like she’d done something correct and it was her reward.

Walking towards the door this time he holds it open for her, smirking at her and giving her a look up and down on her behind as she walked in front of him. Little did she know her game had been reversed, Dr. Crane using this as a perfect opportunity to find out where his student lived. He would find out anyway, already planning on viewing it on the school system to know which room and block she stayed so that he could make accidental walk-in’s to her on weekends and after-schools.

“You are… 17?” He finally breaks the minute long silence between them.

“Yes sir, 18 in 3 weeks.” She gleams her pearly whites at him in proudness of her age.

“How exciting. Anything planned? I mean- for all you can do in a boarding school.” She notices how he’s inanimate when he speaks, almost emotionless and stone cold. It sounds like he doesn’t care but the question itself is curious.

“Obviously not” She puffs out. This was a complete lie of course, she already pre-bought the alcohol her and Rachel were to be consuming that night in her room after hours.

“I don’t believe that, Y/N. I feel you do things that the adults can’t see.” His eyes are menacing and threatening towards her but in a way, Y/N finds it seductive.

“Of course not sir, you can ask everyone- I’m exceptionally behaved.” Her sarcasm fell off her lips, playfully teasing herself as she’s well known for her bad behaviour. Dr. Crane felt the bulge growing in his pants, screaming to be stroked. He peered down and snickered at the tent pointing up at him. Sir. It drove him wild. He imagined her pretty, lying mouth around him, gagging on the base of his cock as she tearfully looked up helplessly at him. Her mascara smudged all on her eyelids and her waterline, whimpering as moans couldn’t fit out of her mouth. This did him no favours of course, only pulling on his erection and making his chest breath heavily in desire.

They finally arrive at Y/N’s dorm and he almost wanted her to see the hardness that he had become by her presence alone. Perfect, he thought. She lives on the first floor. Taking note of the window placed so perfectly around a family of bushes. She stood in her door way and turned to say thank you. Dr. Crane stood there with his bottom lip between his tongue and glancing at his crotch. Y/N too glanced down, breathless from the bulge poking out at her. Her eyes lingered for a second taking the size of him in as her mouth fell open ajar and her lips bitten in her teeth. The pulse in her panties began beating rapidly, both of their parts begging to be touched by the other. She wanted nothing more but to grab him by the collar and have him throw her onto the bed. Hungrily grabbing her clothes off and leaving the deepest of purple bruises along her tits. She had never felt the touch of a man before but in this instant she only had the image of him rolling his hips so deeply into her she could feel in him the core of her stomach. The alcohol of course didn’t help, sending her mind into a frenzy with false confidence.

“Dr. Crane.” She nodded and slowly started to close the door.

“See you tomorrow, Y/N.” Dr. Crane held her eyes in his as she wooden frame came between them. The second he was out of sight, he moved swiftly out of the dorm and out to the side of the building, perfectly ducked down behind the bush right outside her room. His eyes glued onto her window, watching her every move not knowing she was being watched by him. He prayed her curtains remained open as he had a gut feeling as to what was about to happen.

As soon as the door was closed Y/N reached for the tie on her neck, throwing it onto the bed carelessly. The smell of alcohol passing her nose as she threw it. Her small fingers couldn’t unbutton her shirt fast enough for her liking and she growled in annoyance, practically tearing the shirt of by the end. Hooking her fingers underneath the thong under her skirt she ripped it away from her heat, hissing at the cold air hitting her exposed swollen pussy. Throwing herself onto the bed, she snatches the tie and shoves it in her mouth, gagging herself from making noise as the walls were paper thin.

Mouth agape to what is occurring in front of him, Dr. Crane palms his cock through his pants, groaning at the sudden pressure on top of his erection. He hungrily rubbed faster, frustration began to pent up in his lower core as he knew his hand doesn’t feel nearly as good as hers.

Y/N reaches down and in small but increasingly fast motions draws circles on her clit to release the built up tension in her core. Arching her back and twirling her neck in pleasure, Dr. Crane fastens his pace on his own, in shock of how pretty she looked moaning for him. The tip of his cock pulsing beneath the fabric, begging to be rubbed.

“That’s it, my pretty girl.” His hands swiftly unbuttoning his trousers and his dick springing out onto his hand. Blood had filled him completely, not caring of his surroundings or how he may be caught. He begins to pump furiously at himself, attempting to match her pace through the window. “Finger yours-“ His groan interrupts him. “You can take it.” Dr. Crane imagines how she would sound beneath him, how tight she’d squeeze around his throbbing cock milking him for all he has.

As if she could hear him, her middle finger slowly pushes past her entrance. Y/N winces at the sudden contact and a tear forms in the corner of her squeezed shut eye. Her head snapping towards the window. Without flinching or a fear of her seeing, Dr. Crane stroked faster and shorter to release the knot forming within him, his balls tightening up and paining him to cum on himself.

“Oh fuck… cum for me baby.” His head falls back but instantly snaps up, not wanting to miss a second of the show in front of him. “I bet you’d feel so tight around me.” Everything around the teacher had vanished, all that was real was the teenager rubbing herself in front of his eyes and his pulsating hardness in his hand. Pre-cum began to spill painfully slow down his shaft as he continued to pump without mercy.

As the circles become messier with each rub Y/N was turning and her fingers slowing down with each pump, her moans were muffled by the tie that was soaking in a mixture of her saliva and spilled vodka. Bucking her hips up as the knot in her stomach came to a climax, undoing herself on her bed in front of her teacher without her knowing. Screaming in a mixture of pain and intensity, Y/N saw stars as her legs shook out her high.

Dr. Crane stood outside with his knees falling weak, becoming sloppier with each stroke at the sight of his student cumming in front of him. A low groan escapes from his lips as he chases his high, wishing he could cum inside her and fill her for the rest of the night. He wanted to empty himself into her hole and pull her apart to see the ruin he created of her.

“You cum so easily I- fuck.” He takes a sharp inhale of breath. “You feel so good baby- touch yourself again”

Y/N turns to her side in an attempt to regain her composure of the intense release she had brought onto herself, exposing the bottom of her asscheeks and the puddle her pussy had squirted on her blue bedsheets. “Please.” He silently cries in frustration knowing she had finished pleasuring herself.

“So wet for me” Dr. Crane was in agony, tears brimming on his waterline as ecstasy took over. He knew she had finished, all that could bring him to his finish was squeezing his eyes shit and imagining his palm was hers.

The sight of the mess she made alone was enough to send Dr. Crane off the edge, his chest puffing out quick and heavy breaths before a deep animalistic groan conjured from his lips. He stared down at his angry, red cock that shot ropes of his cum onto the bushes in front of him. He jolts at his orgasm and imagines filling her up, shoving himself deeper with each thrust as he empties himself into her.

Slowing down his rhythm and whimpering in pain as he wishes how badly it was her soft hands wrapped around him instead. His hips twitch uncontrollably at his climax and shamelessly places his softening cock back in his pants. His right hand covered in filth, he wipes it quickly on a leaf in front of him and walks off to his dorm. A smirk covered his face for the remainder of the evening, each thought he had of her touching herself sending him back to his perverted pleasure.

—

The next day, Y/N sat down in front of the class as normal after walking into the room with her arm linked with Rachels. Dr. Crane sat at his desk as his eyes followed her into the room and a grin plastered his face. The sight of her at her desk with her legs slightly spread exposing her white cotton panties with her skirt still incredibly short and crumpled sent anger down his spine as she hadn’t listened to his warning the day before, mixed with a twitch in his cock at the sight of her bare legs.

The class commenced as they shared occasional small glances, Dr. Crane taking every chance of silence he got in the class to scan her frame as she anxiously bounced her leg feeling the pressure of his presence around her. He didn’t trust himself around her after last nights occurrence so he avoided her like the plague, planning his next visit to her window that night.

The class had finished without any interaction of words between the pair, Y/N feeling defeated as she thought he could maybe, possibly, just want to speak to her after class again. With a huff of defeat, she left the room and continued her day as normal.

Little did Y/N know, for the next three weeks Dr. Crane had been making his nightly visits to her window, peeping in with his notebook in his hand writing her every mannerism, habit and character down as if she was his study subject. He noted how she mostly wore white when out of uniform. How she’d rarely, if ever, wear no bra under her thin shirts that delicately covered her erect nipples. She liked to dance half naked and preferred to keep her pussy covered when she touched herself. Her undergarments had ribbons or frills and the occasional lace bra would be completely see through. Her room was a mess, taking note of the dirty laundry that carpeted the floor or the empty food wrappers that laid around the elevated surfaces and even the unmade bed that she left every morning before class. She didn’t have much friends, nor did she do much homework. Occasionally Rachel would join her in her room where they’d be giggling and gossiping to ungodly hours of the morning. Annoyingly, the fact he didn’t do her homework got under his skin. She was incredibly smart naturally too and he felt it was as if it were a threat to himself. He also noted most importantly her downfalls, viewing them as a window of opportunity to attack again.

Alcoholism.

He watched three out of five days at least four drinks would lubricate her throat. If he was lucky, he’d catch her and Rachel twirling tongues in an attempt to release the hormonal pressure that came with going to an all girls school. He would begin to rub at his clothed dick as Y/N straddled Rachels lap in a drunken state, placing her soft lips on hers and delicately flicking her tongue across Rachels lips. The girls would break away and smile at each other as a hint that their actions were purely friendly and for experience, Dr. Crane hungrily fisting himself to his climax as he finishes on the same plant that had been covered everyday for weeks now. Her 18th birthday had been approaching fast and he had enough notes of his subject of desire to corner her in his classroom, when they were to be alone he could pounce like predator to prey, having his way with her like he knew she so desperately desired.

—

Finally, the day had come. The classroom fills with students and voices who slowly take their seat in Dr. Cranes psychology lesson. Unknowingly to those around her, Y/N and Rachel had been drinking since 6am. The excuse this time was that it was Y/N’s birthday, using the date as a justification to their intoxication. She was drunk… and she stank of it. Her difference of behaviour, slurring of speech and slowed sloppy laughs, the little trip she did as she walked into the door immediately told Dr. Crane what state she was in.

Perfect, drunk and helpless.

The class had commenced as she stared glassy eyed up at the teacher who much more now than ever made her feel a burning sensation run through her veins. Todays topic; fear and arousal. The liquid had sent her mind into a frenzy which craved, begged, to be violated by her psychology teacher. The words he spoke of the topic was music to her ears, drunk on his descriptions of how these chemicals affected the human body. She was vibrating at all nerve ends with a desire only he could satisfy. Tearing a corner of her notebook off, she messily scribbled the words ‘I can’t take it. The things I’d do to get him to bend me over the desk and break me into two’. Turning around obviously, the note was darted across the room to Rachel. As her eyes scanned what Y/N had written to her, Rachel looks up and smirks in agreement.

‘Make your move, I’m sure his balls are filled living in these headquarters’.

Y/N giggled at her best friends response, clit aching as she imagined how incredibly horny he felt living alone with a bunch of hungry, angry teenage girls.

‘All I’ve learnt from this lesson is that if fear is similar to arousal, I must be terrified.’

Before Y/N got the opportunity to continue the written conversation and throw back her response, Dr. Crane had caught her in the act.

“Y/N, what do you think you’re doing?” walking over to her desk he snatches the crumpled paper out of her hand. The slight graze his fingers passed along to hers made her whimper at the sudden contact, desperate for him to touch her more.

“Um… I-I’m sorry sir.” Y/N neck snapping back to Rachel who looked guilty as murder.

“Passing notes? Seriously? Are you ten years old?” He practically spat the words out in venom. “Don’t even bother going to your next lesson, you’re staying here and making up for the lesson you’ve lost with your childish behaviour.” Perfect, perfect, perfect.

The end of the class couldn’t come sooner, anticipation fuelling the tent in his pants to become gruelling. Only just as he sat down did he unfold the paper and have his eyes scan the words she wrote. Such a whore for me. To her dismay, she watched as he read the paper and with little to no reaction in his face, folded it back up and sighed as he darted her a stare. A heat ran up her neck and face and prickled at the sensation of her cold hands attempting to hide her embarrassment. So easy, so desperate.

As the room now emptied it was only Dr. Crane standing confidently with his arms crossed staring down at his A grade student.

“Are you that desperate that you would want me to fuck you in front of your classmates” The words practically oozed out his mouth, dripping right onto her as she laid there in the filth. The bluntness threw her off guard, her eyebrows knitted tightly together in guilt.

The alcohol had taken over her consciousness, gifting her a newfound pride in her attempt to lure him. “Yes, Dr. Crane… I would do anything.” Puppy eyes staring up at his piercing ones.

“Anything hm?” He took strides towards the left side of her, his hand grabbing her cheeks and forcefully attaching her eyes to his. “You know, I’ve been watching you Y/N. Such a silly thing to show your teacher which dorm you live in.” Y/N’s eyes widened at the confession, wanting to hear more. Her face so close to his crotch she could basically smell him, feeling the pulsations in the pants on her face.

“You-you have?” Her voice a small whisper.

“Oh yes. Your behaviour is quite horrible don’t you think.” His grasp on her face tightens as he speaks through his teeth.

“Did you like what you saw?” Silence.

A chuckle had exited his lips involuntarily, remembering how each night since they first met he had been ejaculating over the bushes that surrounded her room.

“Do you know how badly I want those pretty lips of yours to be wrapped around my cock instead of the vodka bottles you drink nightly?” He loosened his grip and pulled her chair out, now she sat directly underneath him.

“I can’t help it sir, I love the feeling it gives me.” Trying to remain innocent as if her pussy hadn’t starting to salivate against his words.

“Oh yeah? I can show you something better.” He reached down and grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling her by the scalp as she winced in pain and threw her agaisnt his now emptied desk.

“Such a whore for me. Have you been wanting this Y/N?” He threateningly stood over her and pressed his pulsating erection against her stomach, lifting her up by her neck and pushing her up to sit on his desk. As she readjusted herself on his desk, he forcefully spread her knees with his elbows and dipped his fingers down onto her cotton covered clit in agonisingly slow circles, earning a gasp from her lips.

“So badly Dr.Crane-“ Her wince interrupting her as she spoke. “Please… touch me harder”

His fingers circled around her clothed clit as he stared down in disgust at her reaction to his touch.

“So desperate, so sensitive, so wet” He snapped his fingers back from the dampened circle on her panties and she jolted at the sudden lack of pressure, moaning eagerly to have his touch back on her. Dr. Crane lowered himself onto his knees and moved her panties to the side. “Don’t be so impatient, you look pathetic” Y/N moved the side of her head onto her shoulder, wanting to hide from her embarrassment from how badly she wanted him.

“Have you ever been touched by a man before Y/N?” His breath hitching as he exposed her, so close to her that the hot air leaving his mouth caressed her slit. “So beautiful. So pure.”

“Never… only myself” The nerves of what was unfolding started to knot in her stomach, causing her to squirm uncomfortably, bucking her hips as a sign of encouragement to touch her again.

“As I’ve seen-“ His thumb beginning to circle her now exposed slit, slowly adding his index finger into her entrance with little to no resistance from the arousal fluid that coated her. A small moan fell from her mouth as she felt her walls stretch from the foreign feeling. “So sensitive” He whispered in almost disbelief. His eyes stuck on her every reaction to his touch as he was in awe of how weak she had become under his him. Pumping harder and faster as she stretched to one finger, curling his knuckles to violently tap the rough spot inside her. He swiftly added a second finger and she bucked her hips in shock of the size increase, not use to even the size of her own fingers Nevermind a grown man’s. A hiss fell from her lips as she snapped from her daze and their eyes met.

“You can take it.” He said encouragingly “How will you be able to take my cock inside of you if you can’t even fit my fingers?” A knot already started forming at the bottom of her stomach as it got harder and harder for her to breath in normal. His lips naturally found their way to her slit as he removed his thumb and replaced it with his tongue. He hungrily ate at her as if it was the last pussy he’d ever touch, his tongue flat and licking her from top to bottom. As his fingers picked up the pace his tongue became sharper and darted in circles around her clit, sucking at her and filling the room with wet slapping and suction noise. Y/N felt dirty, her inner thighs now covered in what she could only guess was her arousal and his spit.

“Oh yes Dr. Crane. Please- I- I’m so close” The knot became tighter and tighter in her stomach as he felt her walls clenching around him. Her head swung back in pleasure as she started hearing white noise and seeing stars. Her legs began to tremble around his face and the walls echoed her cries. As soon as the knot began to unravel he removed his lips and fingers. The cold air hit her exposed pussy and a cry fell from her lips at the sudden loss of contact and rejection from cumming.

“Please Dr. Crane, I’m begging you- let me cum” A tear had formed in the corner of her eye from her denial of climax, her chest heavy breathing in an attempt to regulate her beating heart, head snapping to his so he could see the mess she’d fallen into.

“Calm down Y/N. I want to see those pretty tits of yours.” He could barely even contain himself, he ripped at her shirt popping buttons as his aggression had taken control. Within an instant his fingers had found the clasp of her bra, holding his body close to hers as he glared down at her. Taking in the sight below him for a second before unclasping the bra that attached to her body. The cold air hit her nipples and she stared at his reaction to her, now half naked and wanting his approval.

“Mhm… very good” He practically said under his breath. Cranes cock twitched at the sight of her so vulnerable beneath him. His firm grip from her hip had now found her left tit, pinching and slapping at her breast. Wiggling in pain she looked helpless under his disposal. “You liked to be slapped Y/N? Does the pain feel good?” All she could do was whimper in response.

“It hurts sir…” He sighed in disappointment, causing him to slap her pussy fast and hard. “Fuck sir- please- I can’t take it” her eyes stayed squeezed but open enough to see how his usual gelled hair had now strands that fell loosely around his glasses and the usual pale skin was now red with lust and swollen lips.

“But you’re wet…. You’re so easy Y/N. Do you not have any respect for yourself?” He said slapping at her slit once again, feeling a sense of accomplishment from her arousal to his abuse. His fingers dropped from her chest and hooked themselves onto the top of her underwear, using his left hand to peel her panties away and his right to lift her hips off the table. A groan fell from his lips at the sight of how swollen she had gotten from how desperate she was, his cock painfully restricted by his pants.

“Take my belt off.”

She scurried her hands to his belt, undoing his pants and zipper in the process- anything to make what was to come, come faster.

“Such a good girl for me. Do you want me to fuck you Y/N?” Dr. Crane’s pants had fallen to his ankles, the tip of his cock angry red and poking out from the top of his underwear.

“Please Dr.Crane” The agony apparent in her voice.

“Please what?” Amusement had formed onto his face, eyebrows raised from her desperation.

“Please fuck me.”

“If I must… you’ll be quiet for me now won’t you? Unless you’re so much of a whore you want to be walked in on” he sighed out in almost defeat. His hips began jolting in her direction as he too was desperate for her touch.

“Yes! Anything- I’ll be good- please fuck me.” She began groaning in impatience. Her eyes dropping to his crotch, mouth agape as the print of him exposed his size. Her eyes couldn’t even take him in. With each twitch his cock getting hungrier and hungrier at the sight of her, begging to be unraveled.

With that said he sprung his cock out in front of her onto his hand, a short gasp leaving his lips at the freeing feeling. and without warning, placed his head at her entrance. He placed his hand on her hip and squeezed tightly, holding her in place as he dragged the tip of himself along her slit to pick up her wetness. The feeling of her warmth earned a low groan from him, teasingly tapping his head on her clit.

“So wet for me baby…” his head dropping between them as he held them close. His words were barely a whisper, more of a hum.

After a few lengths against her wetness he grew impatient, growling at his desperation and in one thrust pushing himself all the way to her cervix, and beyond.

“Oh fuck Y/N… fuck” He groaned around her, not used to fucking a hole so closed. “You’re so tight” He said breathlessly.

The sudden stretch of him caused her to scream out into his shoulder, biting down over the size of him that had filled between her legs. The pain of the bite didn’t stop him, in fact made him hungrier. Pulling out slowly and shoving his hips forward once more they both winced in pain and pleasure. The repetition of pulling out so far that only his tip remained within her before rolling himself so fast and hard inside of her happened a few more times before she became accustomed to his size. Each stroke earning a low moan from him and a tear from her, eventually turning into small pathetic cries of pleading.

“Shhhh.. you can take it. Take all of me like the whore you are.” His hips rolled at a faster pace as the slap of his hips caused vibrations around the room. He began to pump in and out of her at a meaner pace.

“Mhm… Just like that.” He had no more mercy in his thrusts, fucking her hole as hard and as painfully as he could. With each pump he became more and more thirsty, hungry for his climax. She was still so tight around him, punching the breath out of his lungs as he scrapped the back of her.

Y/N couldn’t even breath, never mind speak a word to him. Her eyes were screwed shut and tearful, too in pain to focus on the world around her. Soon, the pain unraveled and ecstasy had taken over. His groans were dripping in her ear as he furiously thrusted into her, his lips attached the sweet spot on her neck, sucking at her skin and playing with it between his teeth. Y/N’s body was now being pushed with each bounce between them from his aggression and desperation from finally being able to fill her up. His lips occasionally leaving her neck to stare at her face or glare down at the view of his dick slamming in and out of her.

“That’ll teach you. So badly behaved… does my cock feel good baby?” His hands had snaked up and wrapped themselves around her throat. As she tried to answer him back she choked on her words as he took the air out of her throat. His eyes stared down into her as he continued to thrust himself into her.

“Can’t answer back now can you? So pathetic and easy.” His thrusts followed the pace of his words, taunting and mocking her submissiveness.

The same knot had started to build again in the pit of her stomach as her cries began to fill the room once again. Her walls clenched tighter around him as she felt the same build up as she did before.

“Oh fuck… squeeze me just like that” his eyes rolled at the tightening pressure she gave him.

“Please- let me cum sir.” He repositioned himself to look down at her, humming approvingly at the sight of her with the smudge of her black mascara coating her eyelids and waterline, mouth dropped open and eyebrows furrowed. With great thought he decided to be kind.

“Cum on my cock darling” The nickname itself was enough to send her over the edge.

“Look at me.” In too much of a daze her eyes had closed shut feeling as if she was too pass out.

“I said, look at me!”

The sudden anger in his voice snapped her eyes open to look into this. As her climax hit she cried in pain, squeezing and clenching around him.

“Fuck. Such a good girl for my cock” Dr. Crane fucked her through her orgasm, almost making her pass out from the overstimulation. He stared down to see himself ruining her, watching as she squirted onto his pelvis and shook uncontrollably around him. His hand still wrapped tightly around her neck, the lack of oxygen and overdose of chemicals in her brain possessing her.

The sight of her convulsing onto him and soaking herself around him caused a low growl to escape his lips, unfortunately tightening his grip around her neck as he selfishly chased his own high.

“I’m- mhm- going to cum- fuck- inside you.”

He was breathless with his words.

“You’d like that won’t you?” His thrusts now abusive, hard and fast inside her as he couldn’t wait to spill his seed and coat her walls.

“Please Dr. Crane, cum for me-please” Her begs of mercy sent him over the edge. Without warning, he shot his warm load inside of her and filled her up with his substance. He swung his head back in pleasure, releasing his grip from her throat and meeting her hips again. He became sloppy as he came, knees wobbling and thrusts now kind and gentle. Y/N felt his cock twitch uncontrollably inside of her. His knees trembled on his body weight, fighting to give in over the sweet release he had found in her, humming as he felt himself empty into her and his balls straining from the intensity he came.

Breathless and wet with sweat, he remained inside of her as he lent over into her shoulder, slowly and softly now pumping in and out of her.

He ensured every last drop of his cum plastered the back of her cervix. Once satisfied he had filled her up, his hips slowly removed themselves from the under side of her thighs, his limp cock falling out soaked in both of their fluids. He placed his lips near the lobe of her ear and whispered through his panting.

“Happy birthday”

#cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x reader #cillian x y/n #cillian smut #smut #cillian murphy smut #dr crane #jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #teacher x student #age g4p

[ultralightpoe]

Bejeweled - Jamie Tartt

Authors Note: I have been trying to find any sort of energy to post and get out of bed. Got so close to giving up on life itself and I'm barely back, please bare with me as I try to find my way out of my depression hole I have dug for myself everyone. I know it's been a minute but life has been kicking my ass. Be patient with me - Ultralight

Word Count: 4454

Warnings: i dont think any

Apart of my MIDNIGHTS EVENT. (Next Event is Sour by Olivia Rodrigo. Requests closed. Event following yet to be decided)

SOUR EVENT

MAIN MASTERLIST

Enjoy!

Baby love, I think I've been a little too kind

Didn't notice you walking all over my peace of mind

In the shoes I gave you as a present

Puttin' someone first only works when you're in their top five

And by the way, I'm going out tonight

Diamonds can dull if not taken care of properly, they can accumulate dust and grime, the shine from the gem being lost amongst the age of the years. You were raised by a grandmother that taught you the most important thing a little girl could know, never ever EVER let a man dull your shine.  

She would lecture you on this as she showed you her jewelry collection, showing you all seven of her engagement rings through the years. The first had been a diamond pear cut with a silver band, given to her by the young salesman that had promised her the world from his office on wall street.

She packed her bags and took the ring the day he slept with his receptionist.

You would wear the diamond ring 10 years later when you met Jamie Tartt, and oddly enough you would be wearing it the day you found out he was cheating. 

-

Maybe it was your fault. Maybe Jamie had strayed from your bed because of you. 

Not because you were bored in bed or because you didn’t give him enough attention, no. Maybe you gave him TOO much attention, you let him forget who you were. You were a fucking diamond.

Diamond of the season as Bridgerton would say. 

You always kept your lovers on a leash, and when they strayed you proved to them just what they would be missing, but you had trusted Jamie as stupid as that was. You had been waiting for an engagement ring, getting your nails done religiously just in case you needed to take a picture. 

You stared at your nails now, as you scrolled through the twitter feed, seeing him leave her flat with lipstick on his cheek and his shirt still unbuttoned. 

Your grandmother would be so disappointed in you. You were better than this. 

And you would be. 

But you had to play your cards right. If Jamie Tartt thinks he can get away with screwing over a gem like yourself then you would just have to show him what a fool he was, and that began with a smile. 

You smiled at him when he came home, all dolled up as he lit up at the sight of you, making it seem like you hadn’t been waiting at the stairs for the sound of his keys and just naturally caught him on your way out. 

“Y/n? Love? Where are you headin’?” He asks, moving closer to you for a kiss. You kissed him back easily, this would only work if he didn’t know that you knew. 

“Just to the club with some friends.” You smile, giving him a twirl in your short dress. 

“What friends?” He mumbles casually, far too casually as his eyes roamed over you slowly. You knew his game and you knew that his casual act was far from the truth, inside he was panicking about you going out in this.

“Oh, just Brent and Jordan.” You shrug, leaning in to kiss his cheek before disappearing from sight. 

-

“You’re new here.” The stranger smiles cheekily at you as he walks up, admiring you without a second of hesitation, not even bothering to hide his eyes drifting to your chest. “I would recognize a beauty like ya’.”

“Oh I am sure you say that to all the girls.” You smile, giving him an airy look you knew would hook him quickly. It works, he gives you a lopsided grin that tells you he is ready to play your game. 

“Who’re your bodyguards over there?”  He nods his head to the direction of your friends Brent and Jordon, both of which you had been flirting with all night. 

“Oh, just some friends.”

“They don’t look like friends.”

“What’s it to you?” And there it is, the jealous look in his eyes that tells you the sex is going to be good. Hook…..Line……

“What are ya’ drinkin, lovey?” 

“Whatever you buy me.” You giggle, moving your hand to touch his elbow expertly, keeping your touch light and your smile easy. 

He blushes a bit at it, moving to the stool across from you and holding his hand out. “Your name?”

“Y/n. Yours.”

“I’m Jamie fucking Tartt.” His voice is smug, and his eyes are gleaming. This poor fool had no idea what he just got himself into. 

“And what can you do for me, Jamie?”

“I thought the sayin’ was what can I do for you?”

“Why would I ask that when I already know I can give everything.” And sinker. 

-

Best believe I'm still bejeweled

When I walk in the room

I can still make the whole place shimmer

And when I meet the band

They ask, "Do you have a man?"

I can still say, "I don't remember"

Familiarity breeds contempt

Don't put me in the basement

When I want the penthouse of your heart

Diamonds in my eyes

I polish up real, I polish up real nice

She let you try on the second engagement ring when your fingers were still too tiny to actually keep it on, laughing when you’re young eyes widened as it sparkled in front of you, amazed by the piece even if you were too young to truly understand what it meant. 

She told you the story of the second man that proposed to her, the one that owned his own business in London which is the reason she moved there in the first place, she told you how he whisked her away and how she ended up moving in with him after a month of knowing him. The way she described his apartment was nothing but luxury and the emerald necklace she showed you that went with the ring screamed money. 

You would learn the term blood money later in life. 

But then she told you about his actual wife, the one he let live in the mansion nestled in the countryside that he never spoke of while he hid mistresses away in apartments along the city promising to marry them while he bestowed jewels to them. 

She wore the ring and the necklace the day she left him, having his valet back all her suitcases into a car and driving her to the far side of the city where her one and only friend in London lived. 

You wore the set on your third date with Jamie, and then you wore it again the day he embarrassed you. 

-

The necklace and ring paired nicely with the gala gown that Rebecca and Keeley helped you pick out, both girls fawning over you the second they saw you show up to the event. 

“You look right fucking fit!” Keeley gushes, eyeing you up and down as Rebecca smiles. “A gorgeous color, and that necklace is absolutely stunning.”

“You should see the ring.” You smile, holding up your hand and letting them gawk. “Famly heirlooms darlings.”

“I don’t know if I want you or I want to be with you.” Keeley whispers, “you made my lower parts like throb-”

“Keeley!” Rebecca gasps, a laugh tearing from all three of you before a hand nestles itself on your hip. 

“Let’s head to our seats, ye love?” Jamie asks, pulling you away before you could actually answer. You were a bit irritated with him, ever since finding out he cheated a week ago you found yourself sick to look at him. 

And he hadn’t complimented you once this evening. Fucking fool. 

But you kept your mouth shut, this was the long game here. You smiled at him, and let him know how handsome he was. It would all be worth it. 

You kept reminding yourself of this during the auction, watching dozens of women bid on Danny Rojas as Keeley motioned for you to look at your phone. You ignore her at first, until she gets Roy to do it as well and you finally give in. 

K; See that goddess in the corner? Blue dress with the massive tits?

Y; Could have just said blue dress

K; She is Jamie’s date

Y; But I’m Jamie’s date

K; So is she. 

Game. Fucking. On. 

You risk one more look to the girl as Jamie is called up, allowing him to kiss your cheek quickly before waltzing himself up and standing proudly as the bidding starts. 

You let her bid back and forth with the girl in the yellow dress towards the front, wondering if yellow dress was another date of his as he gives you an odd look from the stage, drinking your champagne easily. When he gets back you catch a whiff of his cologne, the one you bought him for christmas, while he leans in. 

“Why didn’t ye bid on me, love?”

“Figured I would give another lucky lady some time with you.” You smile, leaning to rub his shoulder. He nods happily, enjoying your answer while your mind flashes back to the photos of him coming out of her apartment. 

He couldn’t even bother wiping off her lipstick from his lips and cheek. 

So when Sam goes up you raise your hand, meeting Jamie’s eyes with that same airy smile you gave him when you met, calling out “2,000 pounds”

And the look on Jamie’s face makes the moment so fucking worth it.

-

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ-” Jamie blurts when he walks up to your door, eyes widening as a red tint covers his neck and cheeks. “Fuck- sorry- lords name in vain and all that but I think I might just die a happy bloke right here.”

“It’s not too much?” You ask, smoothing out the sides as you try to relax your racing heart. This was the first time you were nervous for a date, this was the first time you actually wanted the date to go somewhere because Jamie Tartt was one hell of a man. 

He was sweet and caring, he held doors open for you and talked to you about football with so much passion your heart burned……and he was a god in bed. 

“Never too much, you’re like a fuckin’ Aphrodite brought to life.” He mumbles, eyes never leaving yours as he holds out his arm for you to grab onto. You admire his look then, placing your hand in the crook of his elbow as your gaze travels the tux he wore.

For a brief moment you find yourself excited at the fact that his tie matched your dress perfectly without the two of you planning it in advance. Like an omen that you were meant to be, and you can’t help but thinking that your grandmother would laugh at that statement. 

She wasn’t here, and you were too busy smiling as Jamie led you to the restaurant like you were a princess. 

-

Baby boy, I think I've been too good of a girl (too good of a girl)

Did all the extra credit, then got graded on a curve

I think it's time to teach some lessons

I made you my world (huh), have you heard? (Huh)

I can reclaim the land

And I miss you (I miss you)

But I miss sparkling (ah, hey)

The oval cut Garnet ring with the silver band came next, from the artist she met in that small apartment building. He drew her millions of times, filling his sketchbook with her dancing and posing until he was able to draw her out of memory. 

He pawned his fathers pocket watch for the ring, proposing to her in the middle of lovemaking as he demanded the stars pay her what they owe her. But then he disappeared, stopped coming home and she couldn’t find him. 

Just when she had begun wondering if he was cheating the police had knocked on the door asking if she had seen him. Turned out the pocket watch he pawned wasn’t his but his bosses, as well as the 4,000 he had stolen from the safe the same night he stole the watch. 

She told the police she was house sitting for him, and the second they were out of sight she packed and bolted with the ring. 

You wore it the night you first said I love you, and again when told him your biggest lie. 

- 

“Oh you should have seen it, Y/n. Fuckin’ Nate had no words. We all gave him one hell of a show, glarin and just being downright nasty on the field.” Jamie brags, pacing back and forth in your kitchen as you wiped down the counters for something to do while he rambled on. 

Normally you would be hanging on to his every word, asking about it and actually giving a shit. But today? All you could think about was her. 

Was the women in the blue dress the women from the apartment? Or were they different? How many women were there? How long has he been doing this? A month, a week or years? Should you get tested for anything?

“-oy, you okay?” Jamie asks, concern laced across his face as he comes up to rub you back carefully, bending down to look in your eyes. 

“I’m fine,” You lie, nodding quickly. “Just a little sick.”

“Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” You let him, enjoying the caring side of him as he tucks you in and puts a glass of water beside your bed. He sits beside you for a moment, rubbing your cheek carefully as he watches you. “I’ll be in the living room. You’ll call me if ya need me, ya?”

“Yeah.” You nod, closing your eyes gently as he leans down to kiss your forehead, hating the way your heartbeat through your chest. 

“I love you.” He whispers. 

“I love you too.” You whisper back, feeling sick at how empty the words were, and how easy the lie slipped from your lips. 

- 

You hadn’t planned on saying it to him that night, the dizziness of it all just got the best of you. 

Jamie had snuck you into the richmond field in the middle of the night, both of you laughing and slipping in the wet grass as you tried to play a crappy game of soccer. 

Sure your outfit was ruined but you had been smiling so much your cheeks hurt, ribs aching from laughing too much and your heart 2 seconds from exploding every time he touched you. 

By the time you both tire out, him swinging his arm around your shoulders and snatching the ball up easily while trying to catch his breath, he leads you out to the parking lot. It’s there you say it, in the dimness of the broken light, your cheeks heated from nervousness as well as the workout. 

“I think I love you.” You blurt, watching him stop quickly, whipping to look at you with wide eyes. “No. I do. I know I love you.”

A moment of silence follows and you begin to think you’ve blown it, getting ready to rush off out of pure embarrassment, when a smile cracks out on his face and he rushes forwards to kiss you passionately. 

“I love you too.” He murmurs as he cradles your jaw, lips grazing your own. 

- 

Best believe I'm still bejeweled

When I walk in the room

I can still make the whole place shimmer

And when I meet the band

They ask, "Do you have a man?"

I can still say, "I don't remember"

The factory worker with the easy smile came next, and after 4 months of dating he popped out a black diamond ring with a black band on it, the darkest in the collection which should have shown what was too come. 

She never liked to talk about that one often, and she never let you touch it, as if the ring itself could ruin your life in an instant. 

And you truly believed it could. 

All you knew from that time in her life was that she left bloodied and battered, leaving during the day while he was at work, where she would head to a co workers flat waiting for him when he got home and trying not to cry as he cleaned the cuts. A week later she would take the pregnancy test, that was all you needed to know. 

The ring sat in the red velvet box your grandmother had put it in when she took it off, and it would stay in that box where you would not see it. Except for the two times it nearly escaped. 

- 

“Hey Y/n?” Jamie calls from the room down the hall, drawing your attention from the project you had been working on as you wait for him to keep going, when he doesn’t you sigh out and stand to go find where he was summoning you. 

“Yes?”

“Have you seen my lucky knee pad?”

“Shouldn’t they be in your bag?” You ask, moving to check the said bag where he had laid it in your shared bed. The zipper moved easily as you began searching throughout it. 

“Do you think I would be searching the room if it was in there?” He snaps, and as he swings to glare at you his hand hits the jewelry box on your dresser, sending it tumbling down and the cap of the cursed velvet box flying, the ring sliding across the floor right in front of your foot. 

You stare at it like it’s a bomb, breathing heavy as it gleams up at you. Jamie watches for a moment before he sighs out. “Just pick it up will ya? Won’t bloody hurt you.”

You roll your eyes, ignoring the comment and turning back to the bag where you pull out the lucky knee pad, making him groan. “I swear it wasn’t there when I checked.”

“Just pick up the mess you made.” You grunt out, putting the knee pad on top of the bag and rushing out of the room to go shower. 

- 

The day you move in with Jamie is spent with cheap dancing music that makes you both laugh and dozens of boxes to unpack. Instead of tag teaming your shared boxes in your new shared apartment you both decide to do one box at a time, working as a team. 

Because why be efficient when you are in love?

By the time he gets to the box holding your jewelry he spots the velvet box, reaching in and pulling it out before you notice. By the time you turn to see he already has the lid fully off and the ring pinched between his thumb and forefinger. 

“I don’t think I have ever seen a black diamond.” He murmurs, holding it up to the light as you chuck a pillow at his face. It hits him square on and he gives you an incredulous look as you begin pointing at the ring. 

“Put that thing back in the box, hide it deep in the jewelry box and go wash your hands!” You order, making him blink in shock before he does as told, coming back with wet hands and a small smile. 

“I know it sounds crazy but-”

“I have superstitions too.” He shrugs, moving closer to kiss you softly. “That ring was fucking ugly anyways.”

- 

Familiarity breeds contempt

Don't put me in the basement

When I want the penthouse of your heart

Diamonds in my eyes

I polish up real, I polish up real nice

The pink diamond came from a mistake she wasn’t willing to admit. 

Moments of panic and loneliness have a way of making humans confuse many things for love, she had shown up bruised and broken and she thought her coworker had mended her. 

He was kind, and he was gentle. They got along well and he was very supportive of her keeping the child in the pregnancy. He was safe…..but they weren’t in love. 

She tells you of the conversation she had with him, 3 months pregnant and wearing an engagement ring. They talked about how they went too fast, she told him she wanted to be a mother first and foremost. 

They said goodbye, he told her she could keep the ring. 

He would later be the baby's godfather, and he visited every christmas. 

There were two christmases that actually mattered. 

- 

Jamie missed Christmas dinner with your family that year, not that you minded since all you had been silently hoping for was a break. Just a little longer…. You reminded yourself. The long game. 

But as you marched up the path to your parents home you found yourself breathing out a sigh of relief, home. Home was right here and you would be safe to show your pain. 

Your great uncle is the first to notice said pain, nodding you over to talk to you. 

“You’re grandmother raised you right,” He tells you. “And if she were here she would not let you stand to be in pain.”

“I know.” You mumble back, nodding your head quickly. “I’m working on it.”

- 

The year you brought Jamie home for Christmas was a year full of chaos, one where you had been rushing around in a panic, nervous and anxious about your family not liking him. And it had all gone wrong so far. 

The ham was burnt and the tree managed to catch on fire. Both your bags had been lost in transit so you both were forced into the ugliest sweaters you had seen and you thought Jamie would bolt. 

But he merely grabs your hands softly to stop your pacing, kissing your knuckles and peering up at you. “We’ll be alright, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You nod, smiling back at him as your great uncle walks in, giving you a nod of approval when Jamie can’t see. You ease up then, you had nothing to worry about, Jamie would win them over no problem. 

- 

Sapphire tears on my face

Sadness became my whole sky

But some guy said my aura's moonstone

Just 'cause he was high

The 6th ring had been a simple silver band given to her by the neighbor that claimed she was aphrodite reborn. They had talked 3 times before he gave her the ring and though it never actually counted as a proposal she claimed it did since he had said “I’ll get you the diamond when I prove to you we’re meant to be.”

He lost interest after 3 weeks, she didn’t mind. 

You always used to wear the band when you wanted a good laugh, but as of recently you couldn’t find any humor in it as you left it in the box.  You were beginning to lose energy for all happiness in general. 

- 

And we're dancin' all night

And you can try to change my mind

But you might have to wait in line

What's a girl gonna do?

A diamond's gotta shine

The seventh and final engagement ring had been given to her by a nervous accountant who acted like she had torn the stars from the sky. He was a shy and nervous man, blushed everytime she looked at him, but there had been a spark like no other.  This would be the first ring she would accept with her future planned out, no way of living without him. This had been her lovematch. 

It had been sapphire, her birthstone. She had worn it for three months. 

You wore it the day you met his mistress. 

- 

The apartment was quite nice, and as you took a look around you couldn’t help the anxiety that built through you as she watched you from the couch. 

“He told me he was leaving you.”

“Of course he did.”

“He said neither of you were happy.”

“Not anymore.” You smile, everything in you easing. “But it’s almost over.”

 - 

Best believe I'm still bejeweled

When I walk in the room

I can still make the whole place shimmer (shimmer)

And when I meet the band

They ask, "Do you have a man?"

The last and final ring in the collection hadn’t been an engagement ring, rather a wedding ring. Your grandmother had worn it since the day she got it to the day she died, passing it down to you.  A simple pearl ring that stopped your breath short every time. 

She wore it the day she gave birth to your mother, claiming it gave her strength. She wore it the day of your grandfather's funeral and your mothers as well. 

You wore it the day of her funeral and had been saving it ever since. This would be the ring you wore the day you decided to leave him. 

You waited up, your biggest mistake of it all since you already knew he wouldn’t be home for awhile. 

He would claim it was the game, you would know the truth, he would not feel bad about lying to your face. 

You twisted your grandmother's ring on your finger. It was time. 

 - 

I can still say, "I don't remember"

Familiarity breeds contempt

Don't put me in the basement

When I want the penthouse of your heart

Diamonds in my eyes

I polish up real (nice), I polish up real nice

He proposed with a ruby ring, after years of waiting and it finally happened. You took the ring, kissed him softly and a week later you left a letter on the table explaining it all as you left. You took your clothes and jewelry with you, leaving the pain behind with him. 

You were a fucking jewel, this he would not forget

- . 

And we're dancin' all night

And you can try to change my mind

But you might have to wait in line

What's a girl gonna do? What's a girl gonna do?

I polish up nice

Best believe I'm still bejeweled

When I walk in the room

I can still make the whole place shimmer

You wore your grandmother's wedding pearl wedding ring on your left hand the day you gave birth, and on your right held the engagement ring Jamie had given you. 

When your daughter was old enough you would show her your collection, telling her your grandmother's history all the way up to the ruby ring, where you would tell your own story, all the while wearing the ring you bought yourself, with the dahlia diamond. 

You were a jewel, and just as your grandmother taught you…..never ever EVER let a man dull your shine.

#ted lasso #ted lasso show #ted lasso fic #ted lasso finale #ted lasso season 3 #ted lasso spoilers #ted lasso s3 #ted lasso apple tv #afc richmond #coach beard #jamie tartt #jamie tartt imagne #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tart fanfic #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt smut #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt angst #jamie tartt fluff #jamie tartt love

[kuni-is-daddy]

Hear me out- fluffy comfort sex with scara bc y/n's severe daddy issues are acting up and it gets rougher... idk ive just been fantasizing about this 🤭

"For me~"

Tw: daddy issues, Signals of depression.

Scaramouche x GN reader PUREE comfort! :)

1.3K Words

scara masterlistt wanderer comfort

Fluff+smut

MINORS DNI---

Please make sure your taking care of yourself! I might not know you but your a beautiful person inside out who deserves the best and an amazing life no matter your age. Either young or old, things will get better. Have faith in yourself ❤️ I hope scara helps you feel better here💜

Art credit!

Even though scaramouche has a interesting personality. I feel like he truly can relate to MANY people regarding their problems and that's why he's one of my, if not favorite genshin character.

He's on break from his most recent mission in inazuma and treats you out and catch up as another date. He brings you a couple of gifts and some dango he kept cold just for you. "I thought you weren't a fan of dango scara?" "I'm not but.. figured I might as well bring something sweet for you besides myself" you giggled but that soon turned into a sad expression while you played with the box of dango he handed to you. "What's wrong y/n?"

Unfortunately, hearing about what's going on with your father was the last thing he wished to hear. Your his everything and you getting treated or viewed as nothing is something that makes his skin boil.

"tsk, how about I teach that old man a lesson? Humans are all the same. Taking it out on others because they can't handle the fucking truth or their own shit life. Where is he?" Scaramouche stood up from the table and looked at his surroundings.

"S-scara baby please it's fine its fine.." he sits back down. "Being with you already makes my day a blessing." You cup his cheek and he sinks into your warm touch. Looking at your beautiful eyes. He sighs, "you don't deserve this y/n. And..I'm not going to be here all the time for you. Fuck...this is already pissing me off"

"I don't even fucking have a father, but if I did I sure as hell wouldn't let myself get pushed around like this." You frowned. "Hey. Look at me. Your not a push over okay? I-im just saying this isn't right. Your beautiful and deserve the world y/n. I'd give you all of teyvat in a heartbeat" which you assumed he could after seeing the 'Shouki no kami' he and 'the doctor' have been working on. "Is he always home and like this?" "Yeah.. it's just like this when I'm around... So I'd just find something to do to try and take my mind off if it but..it still hurts." He held your hand. "Its going to hurt my love, it hurt when my mom abandoned me as well. Leaving me alone, but you have to find hope. Be it something small or anything. The fatui was.. a revenge thing you can say but. I found hope within you to be different..even if I am still in it. For now." You blushed "wow kuni~ I never knew you could be so nice." And there went his ego, "I just tell it like it is. And like I said, you are beautiful my love. And you certainly are worth it. Every hour, every second and every breath I take by your side."

It grew silent for a couple of minutes. Scara got up and paced back and forth thinking of a way to help you, to make you understand he loves you. He knew that deep in your thoughts we're tragedy and pain, that you we're alone. And he didn't want you to feel how he felt when his life crumbled due to the stoned face of a god.

He wanted to hurt that man, make him regret it. But he knew that wasn't the right way. Sometimes violence isn't always the answer and he learned that from you. You we're the yin to his yang, the beat in his heart. He loved you more than anything and you guided him into the 'happy' man he is today more then anyone could ever hope to become.

He didn't take you home, rather to his own home. It was dark, black painted walls and only 1 or 2 pictures he took with his 'buddy, Childe' and the rest we're all pictures of you. Even in his room he had taped up letters you'd write to him during his abroad trips. "Look. Come here." He was a little stern but you can tell it was because he was angry at how you we're being treated. "You see all of this here? I read these everyday. When I wake up, to be reminded that I'll always have you y/n." He held your hands and sat on the bed while taking his hat off. "I want you too feel the same way, even with that piece of shi- 'annoying parent' around. You don't have to read my letters my love, but please. Stay strong. For me. And for the future we will have together, side by side. Always."

SMUT🤪

Scaramouche laid you onto the bed and let out a groan "god look at this beautiful body of yours. How dare you look at yourself like this.. your fucking beautiful" he rubbed his hands along your body and took licks around your neck "I'm gonna treat you well t'night baby. And tomorrow I'm going to ask that brat Childe to take the rest of my missions for a bit(months) love." "B-but scara then your going to be so busy after-" he kissed you to keep you quiet. "Mmm mmm.. don't worry about that, trust me you'd be surprised to see the things he'd do after I put on a show for him(scara means killing a buncha people. Childe loves that shit😩)

Scara moved down to your private part, licking and kissing it "Scara~ stopp..your tongue~"

"Want me to stop baby? I know you like it." "N-no" you said while rubbing through his hair "you feel so good~" he smirked. "Good you like it. How about my fingers, you want that to?" "Y-yes daddy..wanna feel your fingers." Scara licked at his fingers and put two inside. "Mmm your so tight around my fingers baby..." He took his other hand and held your leg up while biting at your thighs. "Scara~ please~ ah...hah...." biting and sucking on your thighs until you got a hicky "Yes? What does love want." "I- I want you inside." He stopped biting at you and laughed. "Mmm and here I thought you wanted me to be gentle. And cherish your body." "I-i do but... I want more of you scara" "then take what you want of me, my love"

"Oh fuck baby..L-look at you, bouncing on daddys cock so well." Scara's praises made your body heat up. You two interlocked hands as you chased your orgasm "Yes y/n..Fuck yes. i love you. I love you so fucking much, Please cum for me. Let me hear those beautiful moans." "S-SCARA~ OH sHIT~" You cum oozed onto scara as he kept praising you, "Mm..fuck baby you did so well..So fucking well.. lay down f' me." Your body grew weak as your high started to fade and he guided you to the otherside of the bed. Scara licked off some of your cum while cleaning you up. "Shit.. and you taste good too baby." You threw a pillow at him "You pervet-"

You awoke to your boyfriend soundly asleep next to you. Already in his fatui attire. "S-scara...Your still here" He ruffly opened his eyes. "Of course id be here dumass.. But i do have to leave in a bit.. Otherwise how else am i gonna get that ginger idiot to take my work for a bit." You we're shocked that he still committed to what he said earlier, You thought he was just speaking to boost you up but scara was serious about it. You gave him a hug. "Im so glad to have you in my life Kuni. I love you."

"My god, my mother, humans. They've all abandoned me. Because I was 'weak. Not good enough.' But now I understand my love, I don't need them. Or what they say... All I need and want is you. I want to wake up to your beautiful smile. I want while I'm away for you to be happy. So please keep trying, not for those that dismiss you like they've done me. But for yourself and me. I believe in and love you. Just the way you are and the person you strive to be. I love your kindness, the way you smiled even when you we're sad on our dango date and wake up everyday even if it's the bare minimum. Dont hide those emotions anymore my love, When your hurt, Fall in my arms. Please stay, don't listen to that old bastard or the pain in your heart. I love you and I will stay with you until the bitter end to pick you up. Just like you always did for me"

Ps: I will be home Early, Tomorow evening most likely. Apparently, childe sees me as his 'best friend' and is willing to help regardless. What a looser. Anyway, I have to prep up for the fatui's grand dinner. I hope you ate today my love, Farewell until then.

-Kunikuzushi.

#genshin smut #genshin headcanons #genshin x you #genshin fluff #genshin scenarios #genshin x y/n #genshin impact #scaramouche smut #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche headcanons #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x reader #scara x y/n #scara x you #scara x reader #scaramouche #kunikuzushi #kunikizushi

[beanghostprincess]

Sanji has helped me in so many ways. I will forever be grateful for the creation of this character. He quite literally means the world to me right now.

(TW: ED/Depression/Suicide attempt mention)

I've always struggled with food. Well, not always. But at the end of middle school (more or less. Give or take. Age 12/13) I became obsessed with what I ate. I still don't know exactly how it started, but I think it has always been a mix of my need to control my life when it's crumbling down and the necessity to look skinny (both things are my mother's fault, mostly. And also lots of things going on at the moment). So I started skipping meals constantly and throwing away food and throwing up. Not gonna get into details, but it ruined my life without anybody knowing until a huge depressive episode came and then I tried to off myself, yadda yadda yadda. Then I just stopped eating food and my meals every day were basically a monster and gum and maybe a piece of fruit. I couldn't even drink milk without crying. Then it got a bit better. Then a bit worse. It wasn't very consistent. And then I started doing exercise but that only made me even more obsessed with calorie intake and healthy food and I still can't drink milk or bread without at least feeling awful about it.

And then I watched One Piece.

I know it sounds extremely silly and dumb, but it has helped me in so many ways. I'm not gonna get into all the things it has done for me, because then I'd have to talk about Robin, Nami, Luffy, Pudding and Buggy which are, like, the characters that have helped me the most next to Sanji, and I would not finish this post.

But Sanji is just so, so important to me.

He speaks about food with such passion. His whole thing about not wasting food literally comes from an experience of starvation and because of the sacrifice his father made for him. He keeps saying he refuses to let people go hungry, no matter what. That we all deserve to eat. He relates food to love and cooking is his whole life. It kind of started as a joke when my brother said "nooo, now you can't waste food because Sanji would be sad" and I- That day I literally ate wayyy more than usual with that thought in mind. And I didn't feel bad afterward for once. And he's just- He just makes me feel so comfortable around food. Which is the normal amount of comfort somebody should have and sometimes it's not even that, but it helps. It helps so much.

Then his whole thing with Germa and the Vinsmokes. It killed me. My relationship with my mother is, uh, you can call it complicated but I fucking hate her so. Yeah. And Sanji's story about rejecting his blood relatives and finding better people who will love him hit so close to home. Him being different. Weak. More emotional. A good person. Sanji refusing to use the name Vinsmoke. It's my whole life. Sanji self-sabotaging himself all the time and constantly sacrificing himself, too? I just can't do it, man, he means the world to me. And then Wano happens and he turns out to have the same body as his siblings but he's still himself. He's still Sanji no matter how much in common he has with the Vinsmokes. And as somebody who's constantly dealing with people telling them that they look like their mom? I fucking love it. I know I look like her and I even act like her sometimes but that doesn't mean I am her. And it doesn't mean she deserves to be part of my family, because she isn't and I can't wait to get rid of her in my life.

It's not only food and family, though. Sanji has helped me accept myself in so many ways too. In the way I perceive others and in the way I act. He has helped me eat. He has helped me realize you don't have to consider your blood relatives family if you don't love them. He has helped me see that my kindness is a strength and not a weak spot.

Not to mention that his whole thing with gender and sexuality, how the fandom portrays him, and how I personally write him has been of so much help in understanding myself. I recently discovered I was a lesbian, and also being genderfluid I just- I just love Sanji so much I be projecting my gender issues and internalized stuff with comphet on him. And let me tell you, it helps.

This whole thing is just something short and sweet I wanted to say because media affects people. In the best of ways. One Piece in general has saved my life in many ways, but Sanji in particular is still helping me every day.

#i love you sanji i love you i love you #i started crying while i wrote this lmfao pathetic behavior sorry sorry i love my boy too much #but one piece is literally my favorite thing i swear i haven't been happier in years #and i still struggle a lot with everything but it's a lot of help #one piece #black leg sanji

[mykoreanlove]

on being real

“I don’t want to date you anymore, Jackson.”

The silver fork he was holding in his left hand fell onto the marble floor, crashing the silence caused by your announcement. Jackson was visibly irritated, big frowns on his face.

“You… what? Why?”

For days you had been practicing this moment, imagining how you would explain your reasons and set him free. And even though you went over this moment hundreds of times, you were not prepared for the gravel pit of anxiety in your stomach. You didn’t do this because you didn’t want him, no. Your feelings were as strong as ever, but Jackson never opened up, he never let you take a look behind his porcelain façade. You decided to no longer waste your time with someone that only portrayed his good sides.

“I don’t feel like knowing you, Jackson. You only show me your good sides, you never share your problems with me. I just…”, you stumbled to find the right words.

“Say it, y/n”, he urged you with a serious tone.

“I feel like I’m dating a fake.”

Ouch, the pit grew bigger.

Jackson hid his face behind his hands, shielding himself from you. You didn’t think it would affect him that much, but his silent sobs gave him away.

“I’m sorry, Jackson.”

It didn’t take long for him to change into his real self, which you finally saw for the first time after months of dating. His eyes, always sparkly but never serene, turned dead, drained from life and love. You silently gasped, surprised to see the abyss behind the veil.

Jackson broke out in laughter as he wiped away his tears.

“Dating a fake, huh?”

Tears started to form in your eyes, seeing him like that broke your heart.

“What do you want to know, y/n? How broken I really am? You think you’re going to love that?”, he spat sarcastically.

You couldn’t answer, you didn’t dare to. Jackson took another sip of his drink, grimacing in pain.

“Shall we talk about my crippling depression, then? You want to know what that’s like? To lie awake every night wondering if this is the life I want, the one that I deserve? Shall we talk about the accompanying anxiety which is clouding my mind 24/7? Am I doing enough? Am I true to myself? Is this really who I am? Shall we talk about my sweaty hands and rapid heartbeat? Me wondering if I’m about to drop dead any minute? Is that it?”

He paused and observed you, not understanding the reason behind your tears.

“Or shall we talk about my health problems? Did you notice how badly I’m griding my teeth? Should I tell you that my jaw is tense as fuck and my teeth are overly sensitive? That drinking and eating anything but warm liquor is making me wince in pain? You think I’m this skinny because I’m on a diet? No, y/n, far from it. Should I tell you how frustrated I am because I have tried literally anything, and no one can help me? You wanna know what that’s like? To be helpless in your own body? To be betrayed by your own fucking body?”

Your eyes wandered to the glass in his hands, finally understanding why he was always drinking so much. Jackson started pacing through the room while bearing his darkest secrets.

“Or shall we talk about the people I’m seeing for help? Because I’ve seen them all, y/n. I searched through whole fucking Asia, and everybody is saying the same shit. It’s all in your head, Jackson. Do you know how fucked up that is? Neither antidepressants nor the shit for my teeth is helping me and you wanna know why? Because apparently, it’s in my head. My body is hurting because my soul is hurting. Isn’t that hilarious?”

Jackson spilled some of his liquor, trying to make a point.

“Or let’s not forget about my love life, y/n. You wanna know what that’s like? You wanna know how much energy it took to portray myself as normal? I wanted you to think of me as strong and healthy and full of life but now you’re breaking up with me because that was, what, fake? I did all of this so you would never realize how broken, fragile, and weak I am. But I guess that wasn’t the right way to go about it either.”

Another layer of sadness washed over his face, tinting his brown eyes in even deeper despair. Jackson took a seat on the couch and hid behind his hands again, wondering why he told you all of this if you were already over him.

He flinched in surprise as he felt your arms around him, hugging him tightly. For once he just gave in and hugged you back, crying silently in your embrace.

“Thank you for telling me, Jacky”, you whispered sweetly into his ear. “This is exactly what I wanted.”

He looked at you surprised, so you explained yourself.

“I fell in love with you because you were a real one. Standing in your truth and being true to who you are. That’s how I have always perceived you, anyways. But then when we started dating, and I never got to know that side of yours. You were too perfect, in a way. And I don’t want perfect. I want real, Jacky.”

His thumb brushed along your cheek, tracing down to your jaw.

“How could you possibly want that?”, his hoarse voice croaked.

You chuckled in response.

“I’m not perfect, Jackson. And I don’t want to be. Don’t you think I get depressed from time to time? We can cry together then. And yes, the thing with your teeth sucks. But I will love you even if you get new ones. And besides that, my teeth don’t hurt but my head does. Often, I get insufferable migraines and have to lie in a pitch-black room, I flinch at light like Dracula himself. Do you think I like that? No, but we all have something. You make it sound like you have to be perfect to be loved. But you don’t.”

The newfound spark in his eyes was noticeable, if only for a quick moment.

“I agree with the people you’ve been seeing, though. Your soul is hurting, Jackson. And that’s okay.”

You grabbed his hand and squeezed it lightly, looking at him hopeful.

“You don’t have to heal on your own though. I’d like to help… if you let me?”

#mykoreanlove #jackson wang scenarios #jackson wang fanfic #jackson wang imagine #jackson wang x reader #jackson wang angst #jackson wang imagines #jackson wang fic #jackson wang fluff #jackson wang x y/n #jackson wang #got7 jackson #got7 angst #got7 imagines #got7 scenarios #got7 fanfic #got7 fluff #got7 hard hours #got7 x reader #got7 x you #got7 masterlist #kpop x y/n #kpop angst #angst x reader #kpop x reader

[shadale-s-safe-space]

I don't know much about you as a person, but from what I can gather you've had a long journey with art, but still have the motivation to continue even when its rough. I'm sure you didn't start out making masterpieces, so if its not too much trouble, do you have any advice for a 16 year old artist losing motivation? i feel like im stagnating right now and its awful

Idk man, all I can say is, draw watchu want without the care who's gonna see it or what they gonna say , commit to new ideas and care less about pleasing everyone, because I know that way too well, I started learning by drawing animals, flowers and nature, "you should draw something else", switches to furries " No you must do human portraits", draws humans *no one fuckin cares*, and I felt miserable drawing what I didn't want all the damn time just trying to please everyone and be liked, hell, I still do that sometimes cuz I'm a dumbass. When in reality, when you do your own thing is when you're the happiest, this internet bullshit? Yeah don't trust the likes and favs, people like what they find relatable, no one really knows how much time you've spent on your drawing or how much you love it, when a 5 min doodle you did could do more than a painting that took 2 whole days to complete just to be scrapped in a new speedy record, paint what you love for yourself and you only.

Don't be shy to learn new things, I have tons of stuff I don't post here cuz I know people wouldn't care about it, but here for this post, have this that I practiced when I felt too depressed to think of anything good and wanted to step back from the MD artstyle

You'll see, you'll thrive when you draw what you want, and get yourself a drawing buddy! That way you'll stop focusing on the internet and more on each other, and each other's improvement. Tbh I struggled with that one. Since everyone I had were not into art irl, I somehow managed to find someone after 10 years of drawing alone. I honestly wanted more people to join in and make an improvement circle, but unfortunately that never happened.

I found myself twice as productive now than ever, even though I'm not active here as much I am still drawing and making things, ofc giving you more comics! And other fun things in the future I hope.

If you're struggling to draw something just do it, man commit, i was uncomfortable drawing men and male characters for years, I've wasted so many years being "too uncomfortable" and draw a naked person like yeesh who fucking cares, it's for studying.

And ofc if you feel like you're not improving at all please, please experiment with your artstyle and try something new, please refresh your mind, I was stuck for years doing the same thing over and over, same colors, same 2px brush, drawing like a machine same shit over and over, I felt so stuck and lost, but also afraid to do something new, idk why, I guess I never felt good enough or deserving of it. I also didn't go to art school, I am NOT a professional, nor will i ever be in my opinion. Hell, me feeling like I'll never be good enough left me afraid to try and apply for art school, they were asking for sculptures, different mediums all that scary stuff and I was like, I don't.. know.. how to do those things... I can't build a portfolio in less than 3 months?!?! I don't even know how to use half of what they're asking for!!

In reality at the end of the day, art is what you make of it and no one can stop you, search for inspirations and don't be afraid to try, yes you'll fail fist 2 or 10 or hell even 100 times, but you'll come back with more knowledge than ever.

For ending I give you the most confusing drawing to ever exist [dw he's just sleeping on top of her and she's just ghasping for air but awe romance or sum lol] is it weird? Yeah but I had a fun time making it hahaha

Idk I'm bad at putting my thoughts together, but hopefully some of this helps.

#murder drones #murder drones oc #artists on tumblr #digital painting

[sailoryooons]

Mine | One Shot | myg (m)

☾ Pairing: Yoongi x Succubus F. Reader

☾ Summary: Yoongi lives a quiet life. His days are organized neatly, and every week he can expect the same results. Then he meets you. Hypnotizing. Otherworldly. Strange. And his life never goes back to the way it was before.

☾ Word Count: 14,864

☾ Genre: Smut, Horror, Thriller

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings: Buckle up bitches this list of warnings is going to exhaust even me. Overall creepiness, descriptions of liminal spaces, tons of mentions of subspace-like trances, Yoongi's mind is not always his own, unexplained happenings, Yoongi being manipulated subtly, written jump scares (like three of them?), nightmares, hallucinations, the cutest and also creepiest fucking little succubus you'll ever see, Succy (succubus reader) really likes Tokyo Ghoul that should be a hint, hints at eating raw meat (bleh), Yoongi turning against his friends, Yoongi feeling sick/depressed in a couple of scenes, Yoongi is literally addicted to eating reader out soiejijrghij, explicit sexual content including, spit play, nipple play, oral (f. and m. receiving), grinding, unprotected sex in multiple positions, cum eating, switch dynamics between the two of them often, subspace mentions, fingering, ass play (m. receiving), just.... so many bodily fluids all the time, mentions of animal death (it is a cat and it's dead body is briefly described), a lot of confusion and pace changes as a style choice, Succy is literally obsessed with Yoongi so a lot of the pet name Kitty, very cringe behavior for some rando Yoongi met at a bar, ambiguous ending. I think that covers it idk this is almost 15k of pure nightmare fuel I will send you my therapists number alright

☾ Published: October 30, 2022

☾ A/N: If I have to write this authors note one more time because 'a wild tumbeast ate my fucking post I will scream. Do better Tumblr please stop eating my content over and over lmao. ANYWAY. SURPRISE THIS IS HERE A DAY EARLY. I have zero self-control and @gimmethatagustd told me to post it now so I really said fuck it we ball. I didn't use a beta for this one because I'm insane but I did edit it myself.... so if you see errors..... no you didn't. This one was so much fun to write and I hope you all love Succy as much as I do. She deserves the world she is very... scary and cute. 

HAPPY HALIWEEN!!!

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Masterlist | Ask

Friday nights are spent blowing off steam from work with friends. Yoongi has always lived a simple life, and he likes his Fridays like this: second person to the bar after Taehyung, a quick shot of whisky to take the edge off the day, followed by a whiskey neat and some fries from the kitchen that will still be a little unthawed in the middle. 

Yoongi loves his Fridays at Serendipity. 

The name is a bit of a joke, Jimin says. He inherited the old, rundown bar under another name from his abusive father after he passed away. Mysterious circumstances, the long-term patrons mutter into darkened ale and frosted mugs. Still, they come despite Jimin flipping the name. It was the only thing Jimin could afford to flip, the floors still the same sticky concrete that collect vomit, spilled beer, whiskey, and perhaps a little piss.

It's an ugly thing, with the vinyl stool covers splitting open to reveal guts of yellow foam, and countertops that need another layer of lacquer to fight the chipping from heavy mugs being slammed down every time Seokjin gets into an argument with one of the regulars. Yoongi tries to avoid the bathroom as much as he can. Jimin spent two weeks cleaning it and stocking it with a nice care basket with sprays, cotton rounds, and other products, only to have someone puke in it on the first night.

Yoongi doesn’t care that Jimin named the bar as a bit of an inside joke. Yoongi knows in his heart of hearts when he sees you that this moment is serendipitous.

Because when Yoongi sees you for the first time, the world ends.

Not really. But it feels that way the moment he turns at the bar. Perhaps he’s meant to see you – or perhaps it was by your design. He tilts backward when the door opens, searching for any sign of Seokjin who said he would be there in a few minutes.

And there you are.

Lights dim. The world takes on a muted feeling, like the two of you exist between murky, brackish water with something lurking just beyond the clouded space that he can’t quite make out. The roaring voices of the bar fade softly into the background until it’s just a buzz of pressure between Yoongi’s ears - or maybe that’s not right. Maybe it’s the buzzing pressure of awareness pressing on his spine and eardrums. 

It isn’t pleasant but it’s not… uncomfortable. 

It’s impossible to look away from you. He tries - tries to remember where he is. A bar, perhaps? Not this weird, opaque space where the only thing he can make out is the rogue on your lips, a spark in your eye, and the way you walk forward. No. Walk isn’t the right word. Glide might be more appropriate, he thinks. 

As you near him, Yoongi breathes in sharply. Something like cedar mixed with jasmine and amber makes his head spin. The world tilts and Yoongi begins to slide on its new axis until suddenly, the mist surrounding him shatters as his foot comes into contact with the ground, knee buckling under his weight as his hand flies to the bar to hold himself up.

He fell off of his stool.

Yoongi almost doesn’t believe it, except Taehyung is laughing so hard next to him that Yoongi flushes furiously. He slides back onto the stool, brows furrowed and head ducked down to hide his rapidly glowing red ears and face from you.

But then you speak, and Yoongi cannot fight the urge to look at you once more. It’s an instinct pulling him from blushing furiously in his lap to stare at you.

“Hi,” you murmur. Yoongi is a fish out of water, mouth parted slightly, heart racing. Jasmine. Cedar. Amber. It’s all he can smell. His head swims, mind foggy as he tries to string together words. “Is this seat next to you taken? It’s the only one empty.”

Is it? Yoongi can’t tear his eyes from you, but he could swear Old Ass Han had been sitting there before you walked in.

Old Ass Han is the least annoying of Jimin’s customers and sometimes Yoongi doesn’t mind when Old Ass Han rambles about his late wife. Yoongi has no idea how old Old Ass Han is, he just knows that he was ancient even when Yoongi studied as a high school student tucked in the far corner of the bar.

“Um, yes?” Yoongi says and it comes out like a question.

You grin at him and the world ends a second time.

Pleasure-laced fear shoots down his spine. Your teeth are white and straight, but he swears for a split second they were razor sharp. He shakes his head, dispelling a little of the floating feeling as he says, “Of course. Yes. Please sit.”

Yoongi holds his breath and averts his eyes as you slide onto the stool next to him.

It’s suddenly too loud in the bar, a cacophony of voices and chairs scraping against concrete. Yoongi can still smell you, making the world rotate awkwardly as he spins on his stool to find Taehyung staring at him, brows raise and barely concealing his laughter.

“I don’t think I have ever seen you fumble like that,” Taehyung murmurs. He loses control of his laughter and tries to hide it in his cup of cider. Yoongi flushes and angrily stares into his whiskey, hyperaware of you leaning on the bar to call the bartender’s attention. “I mean – she is – holy shit I never believed in faeries or witches before but there's no way she’s human.”

Yoongi opens and closes his mouth. He tries to find a response to Taehyung, but his tongue feels heavy in his mouth and something tingles along every hair on his arm and neck, a sense of awareness as you lean on the bar, speaking to the bartender.

Again, your voice haunts Yoongi in a matter of seconds. He feels the need to turn and look at you again, but he doesn’t want to be weird. He’s already fallen off the stool once, and he doesn’t plan on further exacerbating his humiliation.

So, Yoongi remains facing Taehyung. Clutches his whiskey glass with shaking hands. Tries to take a breath – it comes out shaky – to calm himself. He has no idea what kind of delirium is threatening him every moment you’re next to him, but he wants to fight it - tries to fight it.

“Are you okay?” Taehyung’s brows twitch, mouth pouting. He ducks his head slightly, trying to find Yoongi’s gaze, but the older keeps his eyes fixed on the wood grain bar. Yoongi wants to look at you again. So bad. Wants to ask you your name. Wants to memorize the curves of your mouth. Wants to memorize every stroke of color in your eyes.

Want want want want.

A sudden throb pulses in Yoongi. He doesn’t know where it comes from, but he feels it bloom inside of him, unfurling with warm petals of want want want want.

The urge to turn and look at you gets stronger.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck –

Yoongi grits his teeth. Feels pressure at the back of his head, like there are featherlight fingers pressing into the base of his skull to urge him to turn around and look at you again. His muscles constrict and he feels himself start to turn, hips beginning to swivel in your direction, arms rigidly placed on the bar as if to fight his lower half.

When he doesn’t turn to look at you, Yoongi swears he imagines the light press of fingers turning into a steel grip. His eyes start to water and he clenches his teeth, feeling an immovable force on him pulling, dragging, tearing - and he lets out a small gasp, the grip on him so strong that he -

“Yoongi,” Taehyung says again, voice firmer. Yoongi looks up this time, eyes soft and round, face flushed. There’s a little sweat collected on his brow, and Yoongi feels a dull throb at the back of his head like a fading migraine. “What’s wrong?”

“Um-“ he cuts himself off and clears his throat. The pressure on his head is gone, but the menthol-cool, awareness of you is not. “Maybe too much to drink? It’s been a stressful week, I think I knocked these back too quickly.

“You do look sort of flushed.” Taehyung raises his brows. “Maybe water?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Water, please.”

Taehyung asks for water when the bartender returns with your drink. Yoongi doesn’t look at you, though he can see from the corner of his eye you’re looking at him. He grits his teeth and stares at the mismatched, colored bottles behind the bar. None of its top-shelf – Jimin certainly cannot afford it – but it doesn’t need to be.

A glass of water appears in front of Yoongi in time for Seokjin’s arrival. The pressure in Yoongi’s skull doesn’t return, and the tingling along his nerves like an electric current dies down a little. He still feels shaken as he sips the water, freeing up the dry feeling on his tongue.

Seokjin nestles between Yoongi and Taehyung, ordering himself a drink. Jimin appears around the bar this time, finally done with his bookkeeping in the back, and slides a beer over to Seokjin. Yoongi watches the way Jimin smiles at them before his attention falters and slides to you sitting next to Yoongi, making Jimin blink rapidly a few times.

Irrational irritation flares in Yoongi for a split second. Though his attention is on his friend and watching Jimin reacts to you sitting in Old Ass Han’s place, it occurs to Yoongi that he doesn’t want anyone else to compete with him.

Not that he stands a chance. But for once in his life, Yoongi wouldn’t mind being the one to take someone home. Why can’t it be him? He saw you first. You’re sitting next to him.

Just as Jimin’s eyes glitter, turning to half-moons as he smiles at you, Yoongi spins in the chair, giving you his full attention. Your eyes turn to meet his and Yoongi is falling into them, no end in sight.

“Hi again,” you greet, voice velvet. “You have pretty eyes.”

“All right, hyung,” Jimin murmurs. Yoongi isn’t looking at Jimin, but he can hear the smirk in his voice as Jimin retreats to their friends.

“Thanks,” Yoongi murmurs. He allows himself to drink you in. His head begins to buzz like he’s had too much whiskey, his tongue heavy and cotton-fuzzed in his mouth. “You have a pretty… everything.”

You have to know how beautiful you are. A deity beneath silk-smooth skin. But you duck your head, a shy giggle leaving your lips. You have the decency to look shy, averting your eyes, lip tucked between teeth.

Perhaps later Yoongi will be embarrassed by the honesty. But right now, it’s all he can do to keep his heart rate normal. You are incredible to look at. Taehyung was right – perhaps not human.

An unnatural glow hums under your skin. Your eyes are vivid, drinking him in with a spark that Yoongi swears echoes a deep flame in the pit of his stomach. He wrestles with himself, his hands fighting a magnetic pull to reach over and brush his fingers across the canvas of your skin.

Yoongi won’t be able to stop if he touches you. His thoughts repulse him – you’re a stranger. Someone he doesn’t know. Someone his mind is begging to violate. He fists his pants, flexing the muscles of his hands and willing the strange pull toward you to go away.

He doesn’t even know your name and Yoongi feels like Pandora, watching you with coveted desire and shaking, greedy hands. Fuck he wants to pry you open and see what treasure lurks beneath the surface.

“What’s your name?” You ask him. You stir a beverage straw in your drink – an Old Fashioned. His lips twitch in a smile at your taste in drinks as he offers you his name. “Yoongi,” you repeat back. The way his name melts in your mouth like sugar entices him. “Cute. You’re cute.”

Yoongi flashes you a shy smile, echoing yours. You share a laugh, his rough and scratchy as he chews the inside of his cheek nervously, yours light and floating. It echoes in his ears and Yoongi loses his sense of self, thoughts drug-laced with only you.

And then your lips are on him and once again, Yoongi swears the world around him has fallen to destruction.

It’s hard to remember the order of events. Yoongi doesn’t care. Your mouth is sugar-sweet and hungry, licking into Yoongi’s open-mouthed kisses as he presses you against something firm. He wants to melt into you, your skin like fire under his seeking hands, your breath delicate and soft against the empty air of what he thinks is his apartment as his lips attached to your neck.

Even your skin tastes sugared. A delicacy for him. For his mouth only.

Mine. The word echoes across his mind, but not in is own voice. 

You writhe underneath Yoongi’s hands. He squeezes the flesh of your lips, tongue snaking out to lick a broad stripe of skin up your neck. Your fingers card through his hair, tugging slightly, just enough to make him groan against your skin.

Yoongi is painfully hard. His cock throbs in his pants, the material restrictive and making the ache so much worse. He grinds his hips against yours, mouth sucking viciously at your collarbone, the top of your cleavage, anywhere he can taste you.

“Fuck,” you whisper, your head thudding against the wall behind you. Panting, you hike up one of your legs, wrapping it against his waist to pull him in tighter to you. Yoongi whines as you connect your mouths again, tongue and teeth, and spit as you grind against him. “I want you so fucking bad.”

“Have me,” he mumbles sucking your tongue into his mouth. You moan, deep in your chest. He swears for a second it’s like a growl. Thinks nothing of it. Just pushes against you hard, cock pulsing. “Whatever you want.”

“Please.”

Yoongi never wants to hear you beg again. Or maybe he doesn’t want you to stop begging. He can’t make up his mind as he pulls you toward a room – his room. Yes, you’re both in his apartment. That’s his slate grey couch that you’re stumbling past and that’s his sheets that you fall backward against.

Licking his lips, Yoongi takes a moment to look down at you. You’re splayed out for him, unfurling in his sheets. He knows tomorrow morning they’ll still smell like you – jasmine, cedar, amber. You look divine, a flower unfolding delicate petals, open for him.

Only for him. Mine. 

You wrap your legs around Yoongi, pulling him flush to the edge of the bed. You release him and press your feet to the bed, knees resting against his hips. You blink at him through fluttering lashes and starry eyes. He’s never seen anything like you. He never will again. He knows it.  

“God damn you’re beautiful,” Yoongi murmurs, the words slipping through his lips, unrelenting.

The stars in your eyes vanish. Yoongi recoils, seeing the fathomless black threatening to eat him alive. He begins to pull away, terror shooting through his chest, sharp and angry. You squeeze your knees against his hips, nearly shattering him. Your mouth is a gash of red with rows and rows of black teeth, churning and churning.

“Don’t speak his name here,” you hiss, words slithering in layers of many different voices. “Never again.”

Yoongi blinks and you’re blushing as you look up at him, knees splayed like butterfly wings, open for him. Just for him. He smiles at the way you giggle and hide behind a hand. “You’re so sweet.”

“You are beautiful. I swear it.”

“Touch me.” Your voice drips honey-sweet on his senses. “I want to feel you, Yoongi. Please.”

There is a prickling sensation like fear at the base of his spine but Yoongi can’t remember why as he smiles at you lazily, dipping down between your legs. He props himself above you, hands planted on the mattress on either side of your head to cage you in.

“Ask me again.”

“Please. Please please please-“

Yoongi swallows your begging tongue first, delving into your luscious mouth.

It’s been a long time since he’s been in his room like this with a partner, much less with someone who looks the way you do, but Yoongi’s hands are confident as they sweep up your sides, pulling the fabric of your shirt up with his hands as they go. You lean upward, letting him pull it off you before it flies from his hand somewhere in the room.

The lights are off in his room, but a silver shaft of moonlight spills through the window to paint you silver. Your eyes reflect the light as you drink him in, his hands brushing up your arms, warming your skin as he traces them to your tits, palming them generously over your bra.

A sigh escapes through your parted lips, red lipstick smeared artfully from the clash of mouths and tongues. He dips back down, tongue hungry for your sugar-warm taste and the liquid heat of your mouth.

Yoongi is dizzy. He’s a little off balance as he breathes you in. Your fingers pull through the strands of his hair, hips canting upward as he reaches around to unclasp your bra, peeling the unwanted layer from you.

Heated, shameless eyes meet his. You tilt your chest toward him, eager for his mouth. He doesn’t miss a beat, placing wet kisses over the tops of your breasts, more tongue and spit than lips, leaving a slick trail to your right nipple. Yoongi’s mouth is possessive, sucking your pert but between his lips and flicking it lightly with his tongue, looking up where your lips part in the moonlight to let out a soft moan.

It spurs him further, plucking your nipple with his teeth, pulling any sound he can from you. He gets a loud whine then and you wiggle your hips under the weight of where his waist is pressed into yours. Grinning, Yoongi repeats the motion, giving a generous suck before pulling away with his teeth, gentling scrapping your peak.

“Fuck,” you whisper. “Feels so good.”

Yoongi trails chaste kisses from one nipple to the other, giving it the same attention. He snakes a hand down your body, fingers dancing across heated skin to pull at the zipper on your jeans. His hands tremble, making it difficult to free the first button.

Reluctantly, Yoongi pulls his mouth away from your breast, a glossy strand of spit connecting his mouth to your swollen skin as he looks down, using both hands to pop the button on your pants and tug violently at them.

“These jeans are the fucking devil.”

“Yes,” you murmur, so quietly that he can barely hear you. He gets them to your ankle, yanking one more time and tossing them. He loses your hushed words in the rustle of clothes hitting the floor when you whisper, “I am.”

“Hmm?” he asks.

You silence his question by pulling his shirt over his head, leaning to capture his exposed chest with your tongue and teeth. Yoongi stands between your legs, head falling tilting toward the heavens at the worship of your mouth.

Deep groans leave his mouth. You bite more than you kiss, but Yoongi likes the way your mouth leaves a trail of little teeth marks, your mouth pinching his flesh before your tongue soothes it. You have him trembling, nearly making him double over as your hand presses over his clothed cock firmly, applying the pressure he needs.

It’s not enough.

Every part of Yoongi feels exposed. Even half dressed, the world is brushing against him raw, every touch of your hands like pleasure and torture, every fan of your breath like the coldest breeze on a hot summer day.

None of the sensations make sense but he feels high – higher than that time he and Jimin took shrooms at that one festival in college where the lights had whispered secrets of the forest to Yoongi and where he had tasted something beyond what he could describe.

But under your carnal touch, Yoongi knows that is nothing compared to this. Nothing compares to the way you work his jeans down to his midthigh, too impatient for him to kick out of them before you’re dipping a hand in his briefs and taking his cock into your hand.

“Holy fuck,” Yoongi gasps, nearly toppling backward. Your grip is firm, strokes deft and confident and oh my god he might come like this.

You lean up to teeth at the pulse point of his neck as your tongue darts out to take a firm lick. “There is nothing holy about me, Min Yoongi,” you murmur against his neck. He shivers, eyes rolling behind closed lids as you speak. He can feel the trace of your incisors, sharper than he remembers against his skin.

Stars dance behind his eyes. You pull your hand away from his cock, making him protest. You hush him with a bite against his shoulder, sharp enough that he thinks you break skin. He doesn’t open his eyes, letting his world sweep from under his feet as you turn him and knock him onto the bed.

When the feeling of spinning stops a little, he blinks his eyes open to help you peel his clothes the rest of the way off. You’re fully naked and Yoongi doesn’t know where to keep his eyes. The swells of your breasts, marked with bite marks and spit from his mouth, the curves of your stomach and waist as you climb atop him, predatory and eager, or the glistening slick of your thighs where you’re dripping for him.

“Come here,” he demands. He’s dying to have you on his tongue, knows you’ll taste saccharine. He grabs your thighs harder than necessary, zeroing in on your pussy as he pulls you toward his mouth. “Wanna fucking taste. Bet you’re fucking delicious.”

You hum in delight, a lethal smile on your face as you crawl up to where he wants you, knees firmly on either side of his head. Yoongi lets out an appreciative noise. Your cunt is sticky and glossy for him, the perfect meal.

With gentle fingers, he parts your folds gently to reveal your slick, clenching hole and needy clit. Yoongi is eager, a finger trailing up and down your warm slit as he lets out a moan.

“Fucking wet,” he whispers before leaning up for a long, slow lick.

Stars explode behind his eyes. He hums in delight, shivering at the taste of you, heady on his tongue. He repeats the motion a few times, flattening his tongue for a slow-drag, appreciative lick up your cunt. He feels the way you drip into his mouth, spill on his chin and he can’t help but curse, at how addictive this feels.

You moan when he dips his tongue into your entrance, gathering your essence on the tip of his tongue before he drags it soft-slow up to your clit, circling your bundle of nerves lazily. Yoongi pulls your clit into his mouth with gentle lips, feeling the way it pulses as he sucks gently.

The sounds you make above him spur him further. He alternates between sucking your clit delicately and butterfly-soft tongue flutters, watching your mouth go slack as you watch him. The more you drip into his eager mouth, the greedier Yoongi gets, fastening his entire mouth on you and sucking harshly.

It becomes sloppy and imprecise. Yoongi can’t decide where he wants his mouth most. He can’t remember ever feeling this lightheaded from oral, much less giving. But he’s starstruck under you, sucking and sucking and sucking – fuck he doesn’t know if he’s even taking breaths.

“Feels so fucking good,” you whisper, a hand going to knot in his hair. His scalp tingles pleasantly where you hold onto him, his eyes fluttering shut. Your hips move slowly over his face. “Fuck keep going.”

Pride swells in his chest. Your voice is airy, breaths short and stilted and overwhelmed as he eats you vigorously. His fingers dimple your skin, pressing into the meat of your ass as he rocks you on his tongue, jaw slack, tongue flat for you to let you fuck yourself on his face the way you want.

Yoongi feels you drip down his face, hears the wet-smack of his mouth against your cunt. He moans. Buries his face further, letting you grind yourself on his nose, chin, mouth lips, anything. He doesn’t care, sticky-coated to the jaw, so fucked out from pleasing you that he almost blacks out when you cum.

Something happens.

He doesn’t know how to describe it – it’s like for a moment, everything goes dark. Perhaps he does blackout. Perhaps he wasn’t breathing. He can’t remember. All he knows is that between one heartbeat and the next, there’s a moment of pure darkness accompanied by a laugh that chills his spine.

And then your mouth is on him, spit and cum making the glide of your mouths sticky-sweet.

Yoongi sucks your tongue into his mouth, pressing his fingers gently to the back of your head, pulling you closer closer closer. He just wants you closer, his stomach burning with a sudden hunger for you. He feels on fire, skin too-warm where your chest slides against his, sweaty and flushed.

Sheets stick to every part of him. He’s aware of the sweat that slides down his neck, a cool finger of relief as you press him further and further into the mattress. He feels like he’s sinking, entering a new domain where he’s no longer in his room – he's just with you. Somewhere. Anywhere.

Your fingers claw at his hair, pulling the strands to pin him to the mattress as you lift yourself, looking down at Yoongi. He blinks, stars in his eyes as he starts up at you, looming. Glowing. Beautiful. His hands are on your hips, a sparking current humming just beneath the surface of your skin.

You feel alive and vibrant.

A moan escapes Yoongi’s mouth, pleasure rolling through him as you grind your cunt on his throbbing cock, warm and wet. His eyes flutter, Yoongi squirming under you, legs kicking and twitching as you tease him. Just the glide of you on his shaft makes him shiver, the pit of his stomach clenching.

“Please,” Yoongi rasps. His fingers dig into your hips, begging. Pleading. Desperate. “Please please please please.”

“You look so pretty when you beg.” Your grinding increases and the room spins. His hands fall from your hips to the sheets, fingers fisted tightly in the fabric. “You’re so beautiful, Yoongi. My Yoongi. Mine. Mine mine mine.”

Your words are lost on him. There’s only the firm touch of your hand against his cock, gripped tight at the base as you lift yourself. He feels his cockhead catch on your swollen entrance and he lets out a strangled noise. He doesn’t know if he can stop himself from cumming. He is bursting at the seams with heat, an inferno so intense he swears that the world catches fire as you slide down his cock, warm and tight.

“Shiiit,” Yoongi hisses. He takes a deep breath and holds it, hips twitching where you straddle his waist, letting him suffer beneath you.

“Feels good.” You lean forward, hands pressed to his chest to support your weight. Yoongi’s eyes flutter open. He blinks at you through wet lashes. The room is so dark he can only make out the barest features on your face, but he sees your eyes clearly. Looking at him. Watching. Hungry. “So good,” you repeat. “So fucking deep.”

Nails bite into the skin of his chest. He feels his skin smart. The hot bead of blood that forms. He doesn’t care, watching as slowly, you lift your hips, your walls hugging every inch of Yoongi. He lets out a shaky breath, hands settling on your waist. He plants his feet in the bed, angling himself better as you reach the tip of his cock before sinking back down.

Heaven and hell. Yoongi wavers between both, gritting his teeth to keep from coming, to keep the feeling of you gripping him tight going. He doesn’t want it to end, it feels so good but it’s wonderful agony, fighting the curl in his stomach, the twitching of his abs, the threat of exploding.

Yoongi's eyes are drawn to where you fuck yourself on him, sticky arousal turning silver in the single shaft of moonlight that spills across the bed where you’re joined. He can’t look away, entranced by the wet smack of your ass on his thighs, the way you just fucking take him.

It lights a fire in him more intensely than the solar flare that threatens to send him spinning into his orgasm. Yoongi growls, digging his nails into your skin, half-moons on smooth flesh as he grits his teeth and fucks up into you. You gasp, nails raking down his chest as he jostles you. His breath comes out as stilted hisses behind clenched teeth.

“Touch yourself for me,” he grits out. “Wanna feel you come all over me – please.”

“Gonna,” you pant, head falling to his chest, claws leaving pink lines on pale flesh. You slide one hand down his body, making him groan as he fucks you with abandon. You gasp, hand working your clit between your writhing bodies. “Gonna come.”

“Please - for me.” He thrusts hard, thighs trembling with the effort, holding his breath as his muscles squeeze. He can feel you tense, pussy clenching so tight he curses and stops, letting you pulse around him as you moan and an unintelligible string of curses that sounds... like another language. “Fuck, just like that.”

Yoongi feels himself come apart. His universe shatters and he floats among the stars. Weightless. Happy. Tired. He feels nothing and everything, a soft frequency of... something dancing along his skin. A soft buzz. Pleasant and warm.

He doesn’t know how long he exists in that space. He can still smell notes of cedar, jasmine and amber. It's stronger now, with a touch of something else... something burning. He leans into the smell and it wraps around him, soft hands around his middle and petal-soft lips against his cheek.

Yoongi becomes vaguely aware that it’s you curled into his side, nose hidden in his neck, chest rising and falling against his arm. It grounds him a little. Brings him back into a dark room that is too obscure to be sure it’s his bedroom at all.

As he drifts off into sleep, he remembers the feeling of your tongue against his neck and nothing more. 

-

Cedar. Jasmine. Amber.

It wakes Yoongi up. His stomach feels empty. His hands seek your warmth, palming your ass, pulling your hips flush to his. He doesn’t open his eyes, content to feel your heat. Again, something like electricity thrums under your skin, tickling his wandering hands.

Your mouth catches his. Pulls him further from sleep. He feels his skin ache from your teeth and nails the night before. Feels the weight of something inside of him that wasn’t there before, although he cannot put into words what it is.

Even in the morning, your mouth is sweet. Gluttonous. You suck his bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling softly followed by a light giggle. He smiles into the next kiss, sloppy and filled with too much tongue but he lets you taste him.

Yoongi swears there is an echo of your taste from the night before. It’s enough to kickstart desire in him, detaching his mouth to plant kisses down your neck. Chest. Stomach. His tongue licks a trail down your velvet skin.

In a shuffle of sheets and skin, you lay back for him, pliant. He’s awake now, pressing your thighs open, teeth nipping the tender flesh. You giggle and the sound makes him pause, lips pressed to your leg, eyes looking up at you in the dim light of the morning. Or night. It’s hard to tell what time it is, here with you in this bed.

Glowing eyes look at him. Round. Soft. Curious. You watch Yoongi with rapt attention, lip pulled between your teeth. Spread. Eager. Ethereal.

Yoongi drops his gaze, groaning when he sees how fucking wet you are. He pulls you closer, sliding a hand under your ass to provide support. Curious, he brushes his thumb up and down your folds, collecting your essence as he does.

“So swollen and wet,” he mumbles, morning voice deep and scratchy. “You’re always so ready to be eaten, hmm?”

You nod. “Please, Kitty.”

The new nickname makes him pause, thumb resting on your clit. He can almost feel your cunt throb under the pad of his finger as he applies a little pressure, watching you whine and kick your legs a bit. He grins.

“Kitty?” he asks as he resumes playing with you. His thumb dips into your hole, ring of muscles clenching around him. His grin spreads as he pulls it away, watching you fight with the loss.

“You have- ughhh – cat eyes. Pretty. Soft. Smart. Kitty.”

He hums, dipping his head forward to give you a single kitten lick. He shuts his eyes and sighs heavily, your taste heavy on his tongue. You taste just as good as the night before. “Cute,” he murmurs, more to himself. “I like it, baby.”

Yoongi doesn’t wait for a response. He presses in, tongue lapping at you hungrily, refusing to let you drip without his mouth for another moment.

-

Greedy.

You’re greedy. You always are. Yoongi isn’t sure what day it is. It might be the same night as when he brought you home or it could be the weekend or it could be next week. He somewhat remembers the taste of a meal. Some cool water. But he doesn’t recall when he made it or when he showered.

He only knows he showered because he smelled the mint soap on your skin a few moments ago when you had your mouth attached to his throat.

Now, your mouth swallows his cock whole, throat pulsing around him. He curses, fingers twisting in your hair as he listens to you choke. Feels your drool dripping down his thighs. You relent, pulling back with a slick sound. He looks down at you between half-moon eyes, lashes fluttering.

You’re a vision: bruised lips smeared in spit and cum, chin covered in slick, watery, round eyes that blink up at him, innocent despite the fact that you rub the flushed tip of his cock against your abused mouth.

“Fuck,” he swears, watching your devilish tongue snake out to lap at his dark tip. “Fucking cock hungry, huh?”

You nod your head, trailing your tongue along the bottom of his shaft, taking time to suck slopping kisses to his skin. He can’t look away, even as you pump him lazily with your small hand, ravenous little mouth sucking coyly at his balls.

His fist tights in your hair. You look up, tears spilling over rounded cheeks. You look angelic at that moment, weeping before him. He nearly busts right there.

“Does Kitty like when I do that?” You ask softly, voice almost a whisper. Your voice changes, he’s noticed. Sometimes coming out dark velvet, other times tangerine-sweet. “Am I a good girl, Kitty?”

You always call him that. He wasn’t sure about it at first, but with a mouth full of his precum and neck covered in his teeth marks, Yoongi thinks you can call him whatever the fuck you want. He’s never seen a creature so drunk off fucking him before and he’s no better. All he wants to do is fucking live in you.

“Such a good girl,” Yoongi promises. He holds your head with one hand and your chin with the other, pulling your bottom lip down with one thumb. His touch is soft and reverent. You preen for him, smiling around his thumb as he slips it in your mouth and presses on your tongue. Feels the spit and god knows what else there. “Come on, baby. Suck.”

And you do. Yoongi’s eyes roll back in his head. He falls backward on his bed and it feels like he has passed through a portal to somewhere else. He floats. All he knows is your mouth, unforgiving. Your tongue, sinful.

And when Yoongi comes down your throat, and when you pull off of him and smile at him with the slow drip of it, Yoongi feels like he’s in fucking heaven.

-

Monday he calls out of work.

Crunching numbers at an accounting firm seems like hell in comparison to where he is now. You’re bent over the kitchen counter, drooling on the granite as he slowly drags his cock through your drenched heat. He ignores the spilled glass of water next to you. Instead, he watches himself disappear deep into your cunt, collecting cream on the base of his cock every time he pulls out.

Yoongi senses you looking at him. You are, eyes intense and heavy. Your gaze shifts so often he can barely keep up – thinks maybe he imagines the way you go from soft, round-eyed sweetheart to a siren-eyed vixen.

It’s the vixen look at him now. And as though you can read his mind, you slick your tongue out of your mouth, bubble gum pink and eager, eyes dragging down to where he works himself in and out.

Yoongi pulls out slowly, running a finger along your arousal smeared along his shaft, and leans forward, thrusting in hard. You pant, tongue still out and eyes focused on his as Yoongi delicately places his cum-slick finger in your mouth. Presses your cream on your tongue.

Your lips close around his finger, tongue swirling around the digit as you shut your eyes and hollow your cheek, gently sucking your arousal until there’s nothing left.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he whispers, in awe of you.

And you are. There’s nothing you won’t do for him. Nothing Yoongi won’t do for you. So he slams into you, deep deep deep, and grunts until you’re coming around him for what feels like the hundredth time since he’s met you.

-

Yoongi startles awake. He blinks away a dream that he immediately cannot remember. His skin is clammy and his sheets stick to him all over. He kicks them off, heart hammering as he jumps to his feet, trying to get away from the bed.

He doesn’t know why, but he feels danger near him with every slam of his heart.

For a few moments, he’s in total darkness. He can’t make out the shape of his dresser. Or the pile of clothes in the hamper. He can’t see any light filtering through the window. He knows there’s a streetlight out there – why isn’t the light streaming through his curtains?

Panic threatens to seize him. He takes a deep breath and presses the heels of his palms to his eyes, rubbing fiercely. He opens them, bursts of starlight blinding him until they fade finally and he can see.

There’s a shadow in front of him, all razor teeth and red eyes.

Yoongi screams, flinching backward. He topples over and feels weightless like he’s falling through time and space. The moment of fear stretches out long – too long – and for a second he thinks he will die. His heart is beating too hard in his chest, his mind is screaming too loud, and the adrenaline threatens to crack him open and spill out on the floor.

He hits the curtain behind him and fists the fabric, ripping the entire rod and holders down backward as he goes. Streetlight pours into the room. He thrashes, blind and screaming among the now ruined curtains, the curtain rod, and drywall dust.

Yoongi frees himself, grabbing the rod to defend himself against the creature in a last-ditch effort to live.

Grey light saturates the room. There’s no shadow creature with teeth and red eyes. There’s just you in the middle of his bed, the reflection of the street light turning your doe-eyes to glowing coins. You’re in a t-shirt of his, soft and crinkled, hair messy. Lip trembling.

“Kitty?” Your voice is small. Almost childlike. “Kitty are you okay?”

The panic beat of his heart slows. He swallows down nausea and realizes his shaking, the remaining waves of adrenaline taking their toll. Yoongi lets go of the curtain rod and nods, pressing his head into the wall.

“I’m sorry,” he rasps. Throat dry. You move on the bed – more of a prowl – and you flick the lamp light on. Warmth rushes into the room and with it, relief. “Thank you.”

“What happened, Kitty?”

“A nightmare. I got up and … I don’t know. I thought I saw something.”

You sit on your knees. Hands in your lap, one palm splayed on your thigh, the other lifted toward him. Beckoning. Open. Warm. Safe. He peels himself from the wreckage by the window and walks toward you, feeling as though there is a string between you and him, tethering you to him. Reeling him in.

When Yoongi’s hand touches yours, exhaustion bleeds into him. Safe. He is safe. You smile and there are no razor teeth. Just kiss-stained lips as you shuffle backward, pulling Yoongi back into the bed.

“Come sleep, Kitty.”

“Okay.”

Carefully, he turns off the lamp. The streetlight floods his room now, but it’s comforting, the grey wash of the world enough that he can see anything creeping in the shadows.

Eventually, he falls back asleep with the slow drag of your hand back and forth across his forehead, and your mouth pressing gentle sucks to the side of his throat.

-

“Where are you going?”

Yoongi almost smiles at the pout on your face. You stand in his kitchen, brows pinched, mouth furious. You’re in another one of his shirts – there is nothing else for you to wear. His grin spreads as he comes around the counter, placing his messenger bag down.

Somehow you seem so much smaller in the daylight. Yoongi swears when you’re riding him in the early hours of the morning or when he has you on all fours fucking you deep into his mattress, you’re a force to be reckoned with. A fierce creature feeds on carnal pleasure only.  

But now in the light of day, with your bottom lip jutting out and scowling brows, Yoongi thinks there is nothing more adorable. His perfect baby. You reach out, opening and closing your hands and he laughs.

“Work,” he answers gently, pulling you toward him. You don’t fight him. You never fight him. Yoongi is always your top priority – you’ve made that obvious. He smells the cedar. Jasmine. Amber. His head swims and for a moment, he forgot what you asked.

Moments like this with your skin touching, that high-frequency current that is unfamiliar but feels so good – Yoongi forgets himself. Every time he touches you, he’s somewhere else.

His phone rings and he remembers he’s supposed to leave. “I have work.”

Your scowl gets worse. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Whatever you want.”

“I want to be with you.”

He laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. When he pulls away, you’re almost snarling, gripping him like iron. He sighs and squeezes your hips for reassurance. “I’ll leave a little early, yeah? For you.”

“Do you promise?”

“Of course, I promise.” Your lip wobbles and he leans forward again, nipping you. “Get some sleep. You woke me up very early this morning, hmm?”

You don’t answer, but you loosen your grip.

When he gets in the car, he sees the curtain in his living room shift and he grins. Cute.

-

Work drags. Yoongi’s in a bad mood. His coffee is extra bitter. The water tastes off. The fluorescents in his office are too bright, prompting him to turn them off. When he begins auditing his client’s monthly spending, the numbers swim on screen.

Yoongi takes his glasses off. Puts them back on. He swears that he sees symbols and that the screen glitches, flashing between letters and numbers and… something he’s unsure of. When he rubs his eyes, the screen is just numbers in an Excel sheet.

Sighing in defeat, he glances at the clock. It’s only been an hour.

“Fuck.”

He pulls his phone out, thumb hovering over the screen. Your contact information is in his phone, right? The silence in his office is deafening. It presses in on him as he stares at his phone, unseeing. Why didn’t he have your phone number? Shouldn’t a boyfriend have their-

A knock at the door startles him. He drops his phone, mumbling an apology as he bends down to get it before righting himself and looking at his director.

“How are you feeling?”

Yoongi shrugs. “A little off.”

And… it’s true. Yoongi’s head hurts suddenly, a migraine slamming on the confines of his skull. His too-bitter coffee burns in his stomach. The back of his neck feels too hot and his hands shake as he puts his phone on his desk.

“You don’t look too well. Maybe take the day?”

Yoongi nods. Sways a little when he stands up to retrieve his things and turns his computer off. On the drive home, the headache recedes a little. He grips the wheel tight, taking deep breaths as he tries to steady the feeling in the pit of his stomach.

In the drive, Yoongi takes a deep breath. The pressure in his head is gone and his stomach doesn’t feel as rotten as it did twenty minutes ago. He makes a mental note to look up his symptoms when he gets inside – perhaps he has the flu. It won’t do to feel this way before his client’s quarterly financial reports are due.

Thankfully, when Yoongi steps into his house, he feels much better.

Feels fine as he drops to his knees in the entryway, tongue buried hungrily in your cunt as he presses you hard against the door, drinking in every drop. Above him, you tremble and cry, begging him never to leave again.

When you cum on his tongue, creamsicle sweet, he thinks he never will.

-

Pain shoots up Yoongi’s foot as he stubs his toe making his way to the bathroom. He can barely see in his room now that he has fixed the curtains – and put blackout ones at your request – and the floor is covered with his shoes and chargers and boxes of snacks you keep in his bedroom like a nest.

He has never in his life seen someone with an appetite for junk food like you – especially sweets.

Yoongi opens the bathroom, the gentle, white glow of the night light casting a dull halo against the whitewash walls. He glances in the mirror and his heart launches into his throat. His hand slams against the door for balance and a moment of terror bleeds him dry when he sees the shadow behind him, white teeth flashing and red eyes.

Whirling around, Yoongi’s hand shoots for the light, painfully jamming fingers against stucco. He manages to flip the switch while his heart pulses in his throat, terror working its way through him like an injection straight into his cardiovascular system.

Light spills into the room, so bright that he flinches, closing his eyes for a second. When he opens them, there’s nothing. It’s just his messy room, covered in clothes, empty and half-full bottles of lube, a generous amount of junk food, and you.

Asleep. Soft against his pillows, lips parted slightly.

Breathing a huge sigh of relief, Yoongi chastises himself and shuts the bathroom door. A few splashes of cold water from the tap do the trick, calming him down and cooling the red splotches of anxiety blooming on his neck.

When he returns to bed, your hands seek his warmth, making grabbing motions even in sleep. He indulges you, sliding closer. Tucking you into his chest. You hum in your sleep, that vibrating feeling that lives just under your skin ever-present.

Gently you lean forward, mouth seeking as you press your lips against the soft spot under his ear. He shivers as the innocent kiss turns into a soft suckle, pulling skin between teeth your tongue pressed against his flesh. But you don’t wake up. You seem content to lay in his arms with the gentle pull of your mouth against his skin, smelling like cedar. Jasmine. Amber.

And he falls asleep, moment of terror forgotten.

-

Yoongi has a problem.

Time management was always one of his strong suits. As someone who lived an organized little life in an organized little home, he thrived on order, repetition of days, and knowing what to expect each day.

Except now Yoongi never remembers what day it is. He hardly remembers how he spends his day. But what he does remember are moments with you. Bodies against bodies. The press of his fingers in your sticky cunt. Your curious fingers, pressing into the tight rim of his ass, pulling out orgasms so deep that it takes him hours to move.

Now, you’re pressed against him on the couch, eyes fixed on the TV. He watches you and you watch the screen, completely focused on the world of Spirited Away. His lips twitch in a smile and he yawns. You snuggle closer to him, nearly attached. It’s second nature to you, to fasten yourself to him. He doesn’t mind, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

When Yoongi’s phone rings, it interrupts everything. You immediately hiss, looking toward the ringing device on the counter. He can’t remember the last time his phone rang but he begins to lift himself off of the couch.

Your fingers dig in. “Finish the movie.”

It’s a demand. He laughs as your brow pinches. “I’ll be right back, let me just see who it is.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why don’t you want to watch the movie with me?”

Your voice has grown small again. Not the sultry purr he is used to in the middle of the night when you mouth at his cock, hard before he’s even awake. Not the demanding crack of a whip when you order him to come.

This voice is tiny, a soft thing that immediately draws him to look at you. He cradles your face, your big eyes looking at him with tears rimming them. His stomach drops and he hushes you, thumbs brushing back and forth.

“Fuck – baby why are you crying?”

“Why don’t you want to watch the movie, Kitty?”

“Hey, Kitty wants to watch the movie.” He croons and you pull yourself into his lap, arms going around his neck and winding in his hair. He keeps a soft grip on your face, eyes searching. That thrum is just beneath the surface, like a beating heart. “I just have to answer the phone, baby. I still want to watch the movie.”

You shake your head. “You don’t.”

“Of course I do.”

It isn’t often that Yoongi upsets you. He vaguely recalls one time when he left for work, you had been a bit sad. But ever since he’d started working from home – wait, he works from home? He shakes the question from his thoughts, saving it for later.

It isn’t often that Yoongi upsets you. He vaguely recalls one time when he left for work, you had been a bit sad. And now you sit on his lap and he hates himself for the way a tear slips down your face, turned into a diamond from the reflection of the TV.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, heart aching in his chest. He leans back. He pulls you flush against his chest. You tuck your face in his neck, your favorite spot to nuzzle and he feels the gentle tuck of your mouth, the tiny suckle of your teeth against his neck. Your comfort.

It isn’t often that Yoongi upsets you. He vaguely -

He doesn’t remember. What was he thinking about? He doesn’t know.

Yoongi loops his arms around you and squeezes you tight. And his eyes flutter shut, suddenly tired and lulled to sleep by the gentle pull of your mouth on his skin.

-

“Come look at this cat,” Yoongi laughs, crouching down on the back porch. The tabby rubs itself between his legs, purring as it twists figure eights. “It’s so friendly, baby. Come say hi.”

Night sky stretches over the city. It’s colder outside – almost Halloween, maybe. Yoongi lost the calendar in his house and he only turns the computer on if he has to sign on for work, which he rarely does these days.

You peek from the door, looking at the cat rubbing its face on Yoongi’s hand. He looks up at you and smiles. You’re swimming in a sweater of his, though your legs are bare. His mouth waters at the thought of tasting you again – he can’t ever get enough, licking the sweetness from between your thighs only to finish by fucking himself into you until he blacks out.

The blackouts happen more after sex now.

“He’s sweet,” Yoongi promises, holding out another hand to you. “Like you.”

Tentatively, you step outside of the door. The floorboard creaks under your step, drawing the cat’s attention. It happens so fast that Yoongi falls from his crouched position, sitting abruptly on the floor. The cat lets out a terrible sound, somewhere between a horrible yowl and a hair-raising hiss.

A blur of claws and teeth, Yoongi yells as the sharp talons catch him, letting the cat go. It becomes a streak of fur and screeching, vanishing from the yard.

You rush to him, dropping down to hold his scratched hands, blood surfacing.

“No!” You look up at him, holding his hand gently to your chest. He feels the strange hum, the heartbeat that… isn’t a beating heart as much as a constant buzz. “Are you okay, Kitty? You’re hurt.”

“It’s okay.” He smiles. The fear in your eyes is heartwarming. You love him – he knows this. He feels it. “Sorry it startled you.”

-

Autumn sun beats down on Yoongi as he goes to peel logs from the stack of firewood in the backyard. As he jogs down the steps, he slows, frowning. There’s a dead tabby at the foot of the stairs, broken body and dark blood smeared underneath.

“Weird,” he mutters, rushing to get some firewood. “I’ve never seen cats here before. Poor thing.”

When he goes back inside the house, he sees you sitting on the counter. Spread. Finger tracing up and down glistening folds, swollen cunt begging for his mouth. Yoongi drops the wood. He zeros in, licking his lips as you spread your legs a little wider.

“What a perfect fucking pussy,” Yoongi grins. “That for me?”

You nod. “Please, Kitty.”

Yoongi forgets about the dead cat.

-

“I want candy.” Yoongi looks up at you, brows raised. You’re standing in the middle of the aisle at the grocery store, chewing your bottom lip as you look at him with hopeful eyes. Yoongi immediately softens. Feels his heart flutter. “Is that okay?”

“Sure.” He looks up at the aisle names. “It’s three aisles over. Can you get what you want while I go back and get milk? I forgot.”

You hesitate for a moment, a moment of fear on your face. Before he can brush away your fears with a simple kiss, you take a deep breath and give him your bravest smile. He preens, proud as you give a confident nod and dart off in the direction of candy.

Yoongi is impressed by you. Leaving the house is hard for you – always has been. The two of you mostly stay inside, locked in your little world. Yoongi likes it that way. Loves knowing after dinner you’ll be nested on the couch, watching him with inquisitive eyes and asking him to put on a new show or to continue the anime you’ve been binging.

Every new experience for you brings stars to your eyes. He loves that about you – loves the way you go awestruck while watching old anime that Yoongi adores, or the way you hum and spin in circles to music he shows you.

Yoongi remembers hearing once that people live many lives. He thinks that if that’s true, you must be in your first life, curious about everything. Surprised by the world. And he gets to watch it over and over, the way you grin when something startles you or when you furiously pout because you don’t like something.

Grocery store trips are new for you. The first time, you’d been stitched to his side, refusing to separate from him. Cagey and flashing mean eyes at everyone. Now, though, Yoongi doesn’t worry as he pulls open one of the glass doors in the cold section, looking for milk.

“Yoongi?” He turns mid-reach for a carton of milk, the cold air hitting him in the face and turning his cheeks pink, glass frosting with the humidity rushing into the fridge. Taehyung is standing behind him, hands shoved into pockets. “Holy shit it is you.”

Yoongi gives Taehyung a funny smile, pulling the milk from the fridge and adding it to his cart. “Why wouldn’t it be? How are you?”

“Dude, how are you? You don’t answer anyone’s calls, I heard you started working at home from some sort of illness, and you refuse to answer your door when we come by.” Taehyung’s face is picture-perfect concern, brown eyes fixed on Yoongi, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. “Why can’t you tell us what’s going on? It’s been weeks.”

“What are you talking about? I talked to you two weeks ago.”

Taehyung cocks his head. His brows furrow and an unsettling feeling flips Yoongi’s stomach. He remembers the call exactly. Recites their conversation back to Taehyung, but before Yoongi can finish, his friend is shaking his head.

“We never had that conversation, Yoongi.”

Taehyung takes a step closer. Yoongi’s heart starts pounding. He remembers talking to Taehyung. He had been standing in the kitchen when his phone rang, and you had handed him his phone. Yoongi remembers because he had been half-paying attention to the conversation, transfixed by the way your eyes caught the light and the way you watched him catch up with Taehyung.

But… another thought swirls in Yoongi’s mind. A vision of you slamming the phone down on the counter, shattering it. Yoongi begging you to stop – stop something ­– and then your soft lips on him.

He shakes his head, setting the thoughts free.

“What’s going on?” Taehyung asks, moving past his cart to get closer. Yoongi backs up. He doesn’t know why, but it’s automatic. He feels panic surge as Taehyung pauses. “Are you sick or-“

Maybe he is. Yoongi knows he talked to Taehyung and yet… doubt wiggles into his mind. Eats at it like a worm. There feels like there is a box somewhere tucked in the recesses of his memory, shielded and without a key. If he applies pressure on it, he gets a headache.

Licking his lips, Yoongi places his trembling hands on the cart. Looks at Taehyung. Sees the pleading in his friend’s eyes. Yoongi opens his mouth to ask when Taehyung thinks they last spoke and -

“Kitty?”

Your soft voice cuts the anxiety in half. Yoongi’s thoughts ease as you appear a few feet away from them, bags of candy in hand. Your doll face morphs into unease when you look at Taehyung. Yoongi wonders why that is – you’ve talked to Taehyung plenty of times. You encourage Yoongi to call him.

“You?” Taehyung asks. The vehemence in his voice startles Yoongi. “You’re still around? Jesus Yoongi, have you been shacked up with some girl you met at a bar this entire time?”

Words have consequences. Taehyung’s immediately has an effect, your expression going from soft and sweet to something that makes Yoongi’s hands grip the push-bar on the cart tightly.

“He has nothing to do with it.” Your voice is a layered hiss. A tingle slides down Yoongi’s neck – familiar and dangerous. He has the sudden urge to bolt, but his feet are rooted to the ground as you advance, putting yourself between the two men. “Yoongi hasn’t been feeling well. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

“I’m one of his best friends!”

Taehyung is one of his best friends. And Jimin. And Seokjin. Yoongi remembers sitting on a stool at Serendipity, listening to Old Ass Han tell him some superstition about female demons who snatched one of his sons in the middle of the night. Jimin had laughed so hard and made Old Ass Han so mad that Jimin covered his tab for the night.

It was such a funny memory that the next Halloween, Jimin had dressed up as a sultry, female demon. Yoongi vaguely recalls laughing with them into the night, especially when Jimin picked up a guy to go home with that night.

Yoongi is full of those memories – at least he was. He thinks he is.

The little place in his mind that feels inaccessible cracks a little and Yoongi winces, a headache splitting him open. He clutches his temple as a bolt of pain lances through his skull. Then your hands are on him, gentle and cradling his face. You’re saying something but he can’t hear you over the high-pitched ringing in his ears.

Colors dance across his vision as Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut, trying to pant through the pain. The pain doesn’t come from that tiny little box in his mind – it comes from somewhere else. Pulling him away from whatever is hidden there, in that dark little forgotten corner.

Suddenly, it becomes too much and darkness swallows him whole.

The last thing Yoongi remembers is the gentle kiss of your mouth on his neck.

-

Yoongi has a problem.

He’s getting headaches all the time. Sometimes he wakes up in the middle of the night with them, sharp pain digging behind his eyes. It always worsens when he tries to recall the dreams he has before he wakes up – he knows he has dreams. They’re on the tip of his tongue. But the more he thinks about them, the more he tries to draw up what he imagined, the more the pain grows.

The bed sinks as you crawl in next to him. It’s too hot in bed. Sheets cling to Yoongi’s skin. He feels like there’s a furnace under the mattress, burning through and making everything sweaty and sticky. He shifts a little away from you – your body is always warm, skin heated with the thrum of energy beneath the surface.

Cedar. Jasmine. Amber. Your scent swells as you tuck yourself close to him. Not touching, but Yoongi can sense you there, an awareness tingling along his skin. It’s happened a few times, where a second awareness blinks an eye open and Yoongi feels on edge. Like there is suddenly an instinct inside of him that has awakened, one he is unfamiliar with.

That awareness yawns. Blooms at the back of his mind, where that same throbbing ache has settled. Yoongi tries to steady his breathing, but he can feel his pulse against his pillow, thumping faster and faster as your cloying scent muddles his thoughts.

You don’t say anything. You don’t reach out and touch him. You just lay there, silent and omnipresent. Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut, and for the first time in a very long time, he wishes that you would go to the other room and watch TV. You love watching TV. Sometimes he finds you sitting in front of it on the floor, knees tucked to your chest, chin on top of your knees while you watch a variety of shows.

Though it seems you have settled on Tokyo Ghoul as your favorite.

“Kitty?” you whisper. He holds his breath. Perhaps if he pretends he is asleep, you’ll go to sleep too. Long beats of silence stretch between you, filled only with the sound of Yoongi’s measured breathing. “I’m sorry.”

He pauses. “Hmm?”

“I’m sorry.”

Yoongi swallows past a knot in his throat. Every muscle in his body is clenching. His fingers are fisted in his blankets, and he’s curled into a ball. He doesn’t remember feeling so braced. He tries to relax, letting himself melt in the bed a little.

“For what?”

“You… need space.”

He doesn’t need to turn around to hear the tremble in your voice. You sniffle a little. The lamp on his bed flickers, catching his attention. He watches the flicker of the bulb as you cry softly behind him. He wants to turn around – wants to gather you in his arms and tuck you into his chest and yet… he doesn’t.

“A little,” Yoongi admits softly.

“Okay.”

Licking his lips, Yoongi steels himself. He rolls over in bed to look at you. You’re buried in one of his hoodies and the blanket he likes to sleep with on the couch. He can barely make out your cherubic face. Your round eyes blink at him, pools of light in the darkness of the hoodie and blanket.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“Okay.”

He softens. It’s not so warm in the bed anymore, so he reaches across the space, finding your hand clutched in the blanket. You let him pry your fingers open and he traces your palm. “Just a little space, okay? I can sleep on the couch tonight.”

You shake your head. “No.”

“Baby-“

“I’m not tired.”

Your voice is firm. He knows that voice – it’s the one that precedes a tantrum if he’s not careful. He nods, pulling a hand away and sighing, closing his eyes. He is tired. He realizes just how tired he is.

“Good night, Kitty.”

-

Most days it’s easier to placate you.

Yoongi feels like he is worn at the edges. Hot water runs down his neck, his back. Relieves a deep ache that has begun to grow on his bones, pained turned lichen. He feels like a watercolor painting with too much liquid medium, running at the edges and blurring across a once-beautiful canvas.

Sleep comes every night, but Yoongi still wakes up tired. He misses meetings even though he has been working from home for… however long. He doesn’t know where his cell phone is. He lost it somewhere in the house – doesn’t need it much.

Water drips onto the floor as he steps out of the shower. He watches it run down milky legs, soaking into the towel. Steam permeates the air and slicks across the mirror, Yoongi’s reflection as opaque and bleary as he feels.

Yoongi heaves a heavy yawn, wiping a hand across the steam in preparation to shave. When his eyes look up at the three-paneled mirror, a shadowed creature with rows of gnashing teeth and red eyes is behind him.

A scream rips its way out of his throat, the terror is so awful that Yoongi’s knees buckles. He hits the tile hard, head smacking the cabinet. His world explodes into color as he blinks the stars from his eyes, scrambling with damp legs, slipping uselessly on the steamed tile as he backs himself into the corner of the wall and sink.

There’s nothing there. Just an open doorway.

For a few seconds, it’s just Yoongi’s heart pounding so hard that his stomach roils. He fumbles for the toilet, flipping the lid and rolling to his knees to heave the contents of dinner into the bowl. He gasps for air, stinging his vomit-burned throat as he throws up again. Stomach-churning. Lungs screaming.

When he flushes and settles against the bathtub, he hears the TV in the living room. Cool air drifts in from his bedroom. He closes his eyes and takes in deep breaths, counting in for seven and out for seven. There’s the soft patter of your feet on the carpet, and he can sense you in the doorway.

His spine always tingles when you’re around.

“Kitty? Are you okay?”

“Don’t feel good.”

“Oh kitty,” you whisper. He keeps his eyes closed. You slide closer to him and your hands are warm. When they touch his face, he feels a little energy pour back into him and he opens his eyes. You’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, still. “I’m sorry.”

“Why sorry?”

You chew on your lip. “I’m sorry.”

It feels like you say that a lot these days. Yoongi nods his head and closes his eyes again as you lean forward and press yourself to his side, giving him a gentle kiss.

-

The headache is bad. But he has to know. Lays in his bed writhing in the sheets.

Ithurtsithurtsithurtsithurts.

Memories crack across his mind, each one hurting more than the last.

A creature of shadow. Blacking out after sex. A dead cat that hadn’t always been dead. Your innocent eyes. Your angry eyes. You smashing his phone to pieces. A doctor forging him a medical note. Blood on your hands and face as you came out of the doctor’s office.

-

For the first time in a long time, Yoongi has energy. He feels more himself. Clearer. He gets up early in the morning and makes himself coffee. He sees you lurking near the fridge, throwing him wary glances. You’re a little more worn than usual: sallow cheeks, bags under your eyes. Your eyes are as starry.

When he asks you what’s wrong, you don’t answer. You duck into the bedroom and shut the door firmly behind you. He stares, a little confused and hurt before sighing. You’re touchy sometimes, and on the days like this where you’re more like a feral cat than a preening girlfriend, he knows to keep his distance.

Yoongi shrugs and tosses the sugar packet in the trash, frowning. There are empty bottoms of foam that are stained red - meat packages, he realizes. He doesn’t recall having steak at all this week, but perhaps you’re thawing it in the fridge for dinner.

He shrugs and goes to his office, leaving you to your devices.

A morning meeting kickstarts his day, and Yoongi forgets about it.

-

Yoongi has a problem.

You’re worse. You don’t want to come out of his room and you won’t go near the light. There are harsh lines around your eyes and he swears your teeth are sharper. More lethal. You won’t sleep in the same bed as he is.

Worst of all? Yoongi feels great. Feels like perhaps it was just a depressive episode he was in. He no longer feels like he is melted together at the edges, barely hanging on. But it does mean that he’s getting frustrated with you.

“Feral,” he mutters as he walks into his office after you snarled at him and then proceeded to cry because you wanted him to take the day off. “Sometimes I swear she is feral.”

-

Soft lips wake Yoongi up in the middle of the night. He stirs, feeling a tingle run down his spine. He can smell cedar, jasmine and amber and smiles. You’re pressed against him, mouth seeking his delicately, though there is some urgency behind your kisses.

Yoongi opens his mouth to you, an invitation. You suck his tongue into your mouth greedily and arousal shoots to his cock, your mouth doing wonders on his tongue. Fuck he knows you like to suck him off like that too, all greedy and sloppy and spit-slicked.

Your hands pull at his shirt and you kiss him with more fervor, lips becoming teeth, moans becoming hisses. When Yoongi rolls onto his back, pulling your hips on top of him, the dynamic changes.

A gasp escapes his kiss-bruised lips, eyes flying open as you mark his throat. Harsh stings of teeth followed quickly by lavish licks of your tongue. It’s messy and you leave a trail of spit dripping down his neck, making him squirm underneath you, cock tight against his pajama shorts.

“Fuck,” he moans when you suck that spot under his ear he loves. “Greedy devil.”

“Yes,” you shoot back, voice firm. Your hands seek his, pulling them from where they massage your ass to pin them above his head, your grip iron. “Please.”

There’s no way she’s human.

Taehyung’s words flash through Yoongi’s mind when he looks up at you. Your pupils are dilated, two black disks that absorb the barest hint of light in the room. He shivers, afraid of falling into your dark eyes and never finding his way back home.

Have your eyes always been that soulless? No, he thinks.

“Please,” you say again. “Please let me have you.”

He frowns. “You can always have me.”

You shake your head. “Not always. Too much. I take… I take too much. But now not enough. I just…” Your lip trembles and where you hold his wrist begins to ache. He whimpers and you hush him, your fingers loosening a little. “I just need some. Not a lot.”

It’s hard to understand what you’re asking for. Yoongi is lost in the sensation of fluttering in his stomach and the way blood rushes through his body. He feels high when you dip one of your hands below the waistband of his pajamas, taking a hold of his cock in your hand, thumb brushing precum from the tip.

You always take care of Yoongi. His eyes flutter shut as he feels a steady static build in his brain. Your touch is careful but deliberate, each stroke of your hand and squeeze of his shaft sending him spinning. His hips twitch under you.

When you shift down his body, he lifts his lower half off the bed, kicking at the sheets and letting you tug his bottoms down. He’s shaking and eager, unable to look down at you when you take him fully in your hand, tongue tasting the stickiness at his tip.

“Fuck,” he whispers. His hands are still above him, twisted in the pillowcase. He leaves them there, helpless as you tongue the head of his dick before sucking it into your mouth. Your tongue is gentle and your mouth is warm, the barest of sucks making him whine. “Don’t tease me.”

You hum and the vibrations make him speechless. His head rolls to the side, mouth parted, panting as he sees stars. You suck him eagerly, messily. He hears the wet pull of your mouth, the choked cough of your throat when you take him in deep and swallow.

Gentle nails scratch down his legs. He feels like he’s disconnected from the rest of the world, a single strand tethering him as he floats. He babbles as you take him in deep, a hand reaching down below his balls, a single, shy finger pressing against his tight rim.

Everything inside of Yoongi goes taught. He comes immediately and without warning. Spills in your mouth and the world fades away. There is nothing where he goes. No memories, no thoughts, no anxiety. It’s just Yoongi and he feels good – the kind of warm from a bubble bath laden with creams and salts.

Eventually, he comes back down. Opening his eyes, Yoongi sees you blink down at him. You smile, brushing light finger strokes over flushed cheeks. He grins up at you, elated. Hypnotized. You’re so… he doesn’t know the word.

There’s no way she’s human.

That phrase makes Yoongi’s smile falter. You are exquisite. Shrouded in darkness. Yoongi feels the press of unfamiliar air. When he looks beyond you, there’s just darkness. There is nothing. No light streams in from the window again. There is no soft hum of the nightlight in the bathroom where he usually leaves the door open now.

It’s just you.

Yoongi’s heart begins to speed up, panic rising.

You kiss him softly. It’s sweet and his anxiety melts away. Feels the weight of you on your hips, wet pussy dripping on his thigh. You’re being patient, which surprises him. Usually by now you’re needy, grinding your cunt on his thigh to seek friction.

“I want more,” you whisper against his mouth, fingers pressed into his cheeks. “Will you give me more?”

He nods. You lick his mouth, sighing contentedly as you roll your hips on his thigh. He moans, feeling the glide of your bare folds against his leg. You are always so ready for him, eager to take him. Easy to please. Excited to take what you want.

Shaking above him, you bury your face in his neck. Yoongi slides his hands from their position above his head, resting one hand on your thigh and sliding the other between your legs. Sticky arousal greets him, his fingers brushing up and down your cunt as you stop grinding, letting him take control.

“Kitty,” you beg, words muffle in his neck. He grins, eyes half-lidded as he plays with you. “Please, Kitty.”

Yoongi sinks two fingers in your greedy hole, feeling the way your walls flutter around him. It doesn’t matter how many times he buries his fingers, cock or tongue in you – every time is divine. Feels like something holy, taking him somewhere else.

“Fuck yourself on my fingers,” he murmurs, pressing a thumb to your clit. “Come on, baby. Wanna see you make a mess on my hands first.”

“Want your cock.”

“Fingers first, baby. Come on, you can do it.”

A growl rips through your frame. Yoongi stills under you for a moment, heart skipping. But then you move your hips and he hears your soft breath. Feels the drip down his hand. He grins, feeling you swallow his fingers as you work yourself on him, his thumb circling your clit lazily.

Nails dig into his thighs as you lean backward, spreading yourself for him. He can barely make out your figure in the darkness, but he can see the swell of your chest, the line of your neck as you toss your head back, his name falling from flushed lips and floating up to the ceiling.

When you come, it’s wet and loud. He hums, pulling drenched fingers from your legs. He surges forward, surprising you and moving you backward, letting your head bounce near the foot of the bed as he cages you in, stealing a kiss.

You wrap your arms and legs around him, clinging and whining and rubbing against his thigh again, begging sweetly. No one has ever wanted Yoongi the way you do. Ever. He cannot recall a single time someone has been as vigorous in their pursuit.

It makes him hard again, the rush in his veins igniting once more as he slides into you. He pushes in to the hilt, settling there for a moment. You clench around him, clawing at the back of his neck and thrashing under him. Begging for more. Always wanting more. Swearing you just need a little more.

Yoongi sets a slow pace, stroking deep with a purpose. You gasp every time he fucks all the way into you. He grins against your sweaty neck, tongue licking a stripe up your salty skin. You turn your face and catch his mouth with yours, swapping more spit than kissing, moaning into one another’s mouths.

An orgasm winds tightly in Yoongi’s stomach. He feels it at the base of his spine this time, a second sense tingling as he picks up speed, slamming into you until you’re crying under him, babbling again in something that sounds like a language but isn’t quite.

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck –“ He grits his teeth and the moment he comes, you squeeze him like a vice, shouting and pulling him into an orgasm so hard that he feels himself fall on top of you, the energy leaving him as quickly as his orgasm had gathered.

At some point, he falls asleep.

-

Hell on earth is waking up battered and torn at the seams. You’re out in the living room, enjoying an early morning episode of Tokyo Ghoul again. He hears you giggle at the TV and he lifts his head in the shower. The rush of the hot water is loud, but the sound of you laughing is in his head.

It always feels like you’re in his head.

Yoongi stumbles when he gets out of the shower. His feet are heavy and there is pain behind his eyes. The throbbing kind that makes him turn the lights out and shoot a text to work telling them he needs a sick day. How many sick days has he had this year? He has no idea.

Yoongi stumbles to the mattress and collapses into the sheets. Everything feels heavy like he is made of glass bones with the weight of the world threatening to break him.

Sleep comes and goes. It doesn’t make him less tired. Yoongi places a hand on his forehead.  He is not over-warm, but he wants to cry, the ache in every muscle so real that it takes him several tries to say your name.

You appear immediately, hovering at the edge of the bed in his hoodie, wrapped in a blanket.

“Are you feeling sick, Kitty?” He nods and you sniff. “I’m so sorry, Kitty… do you want some water?”

Yoongi nods again and you vanish. He rolls onto his back, groaning. He reaches for his phone. The screen is cracked from some incident or another, but it’s mildly legible as he searches his symptoms online.

When you come back with water, he thanks you with a sweet kiss and smiles when you lick his nose affectionately before darting out of the room again. He hears the show start again.

Carefully, Yoongi tries to sit up a bit. The water is cooled with two cubes – just the way he likes it – and it helps staunch the thirst. He drains the entire glass, but still, he aches with exhaustion that has no name.

Every combination he can think of brings Yoongi undesirable results. He has the fatigue of many different illnesses, but not any of the others. Mono seems the most likely, but still, it doesn’t feel right.

Yoongi considers and then types a new search: constant exhaustion after sex.

The results make him roll his eyes. He knows he’s going to get several ads for erectile dysfunction medication, but he scrolls anyways. Maybe he’s just fucking you that hard. But he does remember blacking out after sex and… well he never feels great the next day.

Slowly tapping through pages, Yoongi sighs. There’s nothing that provides much thought beyond Yoongi knowing he’s had too much sex. You’re a starving little thing, constantly wanting –

A word catches his attention: succubus.

Yoongi snorts when he opens the article. It’s a weird string of evangelical stories and musings, and overly sexualized depictions of female demons with generous breasts, shapely figures, and cute little bat wings.

The succubus needs sexual desire and energy to survive. He scoffs and wonders what heterosexual male wrote that dream.

Repeated sexual activity with a succubus will result in a bond being formed between the succubus and the host.

“Romantic,” Yoongi deadpans, scrolling up to close out the article. But a drawing catches Yoongi’s eye - a shadowy figure with rows and rows of teeth and red eyes. “Huh.”

Clicking on it, the page loads to a Reddit thread. Yoongi curses when he has to download the app, but his fingers move of their own volition, tapping across the screen as he creates a login and reopens the thread.

There are streams and streams of comments and links on the thread, a little overwhelming. As expected, it sounds like most heterosexual men overly-sexualizing women or asking about roleplaying – and yet, there’s a thread with a lot of upvotes that he clicks on.

Loss of time. Constantly exhausted. Nightmares of shadow creatures following me. Yoongi licks his lips, feeling his mouth go dry as he continues. Blackouts after sex. Not able to remember life before meeting entity. Dead animals –

“Kitty?” Yoongi flinches, dropping the phone on his stomach, hand covering his chest as his heart pounds in his ribcage. You blink in surprise, cocking your head where you stand in the doorway. A sense of dread draws a slow finger down Yoongi’s spine as he stares at you. “Do you want to come watch with me? We can put on Spirited Away.”

Loss of time. Constantly exhausted. Nightmares of shadow creatures-

“Kitty?” Yoongi has waited too long to reply. He nods his head and clears his throat. He wants to laugh at how ridiculous he’s being, shoving the phone away from him as he slowly peels himself out of bed. You grin and hold out a hand. “Thanks.”

-

Like a cat, you’re curled on the couch. Yoongi gives you a wide berth as he walks to his office. Night has passed into morning, and the flash of the screen lights the way as he opens the door, slipping through a tiny crack before he closes it softly and firmly behind him.

While watching movies, Yoongi could not help but think about the thread he had seen. He doesn’t turn the light on, too afraid of it showing under the door and tipping you off where he is.

Fear settles in the pit of his stomach. His hands are shaky as he wakes up the mouse, the computer light nearly blinding in the dark room. He jams the settings on the keyboard, turning it down a bit as he settles into the chair, taking a few breaths.

It feels ridiculous. You’re his girlfriend, not a sex-craving demon. But Yoongi finds the thread again anyways, clicking through and going back to that original subthread of people claiming to have survived an encounter with a succubus.

Time doesn’t seem to pass as Yoongi reads. He leans on his hand, eyes burning as he clicks through story after story.

Met at a bar – she was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I never remember going home with her, but my life was suddenly consumed by her. I lost my job and my friends. Felt good at first, but started getting headaches any time I would try to remember something. And she was always around, always lurking around every corner.

Yoongi clicks on to the next one, stomach flipping nervously.

- I ran into a friend and she swore we hadn’t spoken in months. I remember talking to her but it felt like… they were false memories. Like I didn’t really do those things. It was strange, but I forgot again after a while.

Taehyung’s face flashes in Yoongi’s mind. His palms get sweaty as he navigates the mouse, leaning closer toward the screen. A nervous beat starts to drum up in his heart as he pours over the words and the accounts of others.

The evidence is damning, but it can’t be possible, right?

Yoongi thinks of Old Ass Han telling the story of his son being swept up by a she-demon. Yoongi doesn’t think the story is very funny anymore, and the thought of Jimin dressing up as one makes him nauseous.

Carefully, he navigates to another thread.

I was lucky. She didn’t want to kill me, but she was constantly hungry for more energy that I didn’t have. She would get cagey and feral, hissing at me and hiding in the dark, like she was weaker in the sun when she wasn’t fed. I would find packs and packs of meat rotting in the garbage like she was trying to get her fix elsewhere.

I hope that you take this thread seriously. They are real. And while they look and talk like people, they aren’t. They might grow attached to you, but they don’t love you. You are a meal – and if your succubus is only feeding off of sex, it’s only a matter of time before they need more.

Think Jennifer’s Body, people.

Yoongi has never seen that movie before. He clicks away from the thread and pulls up the trailer. It seems a little ridiculous, but he gets the idea. Sex, eat the guy, move on to the next. But you certainly have never tried to eat him.

So Yoongi clicks back to the thread and searches for something new. How to get rid of a succubus.

He leans back while the page loads, switching to a white screen. This bright, the monitor reflects what’s in front of it, Yoongi’s round and tired face, pale from lack of sleep, and a looming shadow behind him. His stomach plummets and he goes rigid in the chair, frozen with fear.

Yoongi smells cedar. Jasmine. Amber.

"Kitty is looking at bad things,” you sniffle. Your shadow grows in the computer monitor and Yoongi swears he sees the white flash of teeth before his world turns red. "I loved you, Kitty."

#yoongi smut #suga smut #min yoongi smut #suga bts #min yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #yoongi x demon reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #min yoongi #happy haliween #haliiimede writes #minors dni #minors do not interact #tw manipulation #tw supernatural #tw dead animal

[runningpsychic]

Why Goodbye Volcano High resonates with me as...

...a musician

As a musician, it's hard not to immediately identify with Fang. What musician doesn't want their music to be heard, to play at music festivals, and have music as their career. I can wax poetic about how music is about self expression and it doesn't matter if I have an audience, but in the end, I still want my music to be heard, and enjoyed. And Fang is on track to making this their entire career.

Making music has been a minor hobby for me. Even as a kid, I knew there's almost no chance I can make it as a musician, so I went down the route of being a software engineer instead. It's such a minor part of my life that I don't even bother identifying as a musician, I just fool around with instruments. But something about GVH ignited that passion in me, and during my first playthrough, I wrote six songs inspired by themes in the game. Even if I'll stay an amateur, I want to make the most from life, and not let the fire die. (See last section)

All that said, I felt very bad for Fang throughout the game. I know how tough the life of a full time musician is. The industry is just completely screwed. And unlike me, Fang doesn't have another option other than music. The game also drives it in that Fang's friends all have viable career paths, while Fang doesn't. But then, the meteor throws an interesting wrench into this, as now Fang is the only one who achieved their dreams. I'm not sure what the point of this paragraph is besides fuck capitalism, give musicians a living wage.

...an enby

Fang really made me more comfortable about being non-binary. It's amazing seeing enby representation that doesn't feel shoehorned in, or merely an afterthought. It's actually integral to the story. Both Fang and Sage struggle having their parents take their identities seriously, and that mirrors my own fears of not being taken seriously as an enby myself, which leads me to only come out as non-binary to my closest friends, and just remain a binary trans woman to everyone else.

It's honestly amazing to see everyone in Caldera Bay being accepting of the queer cast, like being queer isn't a big deal at all. And that's how it should be. Everyone just calls Fang by their name and pronouns (except their parents of course), and no one seems to mind that Reed brought Alvin to prom. This really makes me feel more comfortable about my identity, and I feel proud to be queer. We don't owe them normal.

...an immigrant

It's so rare to see stories about the intersection of being trans and being an immigrant, so when I read Rosa's story, I felt it must've been written by someone who also has first hand experience. There's a distinct feel from my family that me being trans is a "western" thing, not something they could ever understand. Or worse, that I'm being corrupted by "the west" in some way by moving there. There's so much extended family I can never see again because I'm now an abomination of the family tree.

I find it really difficult to talk about this as I fear I'd be misread as being racist for suggesting that my home country is more queerphobic or something, but that isn't my point. I just want to tell my story, and my experience of being alienated for both culture and gender, in both my origin and destination countries, is one that most folks can't emphasize with. (Venba also does do a good job with the culture part, so you should check that out too)

There's a separate rant about how this brand of queerphobia was actually planted by Christian missionaries and not at all "traditional culture", but that's for another time.

...someone struggling with mental health

I've been obsessed with the game for months since I played it. I went through what everyone calls "Dino depression", but I think it really helped me, and it was the game I needed to play at this moment in my life. I struggle with depression and burnout. At times it can be hard to know what the point is, or feel that any of this is worth it. The first few weeks after the game, I actually felt more depressed, as I thought about what the point of life is if it all is temporary anyway, and what I would do if a meteor were to hit in 8 months. And I was scared, because I felt like my life wasn't under my control. Over time, I've learned to think about it more positively. If life is temporary, then it's up to me to make the most of it. If life has no meaning, it's up to me to make my own meaning. I have amazing friends around me, and I still have tons of music to make.

#goodbye volcano high #gvh #transgender #nonbinary #musician #mental health #ko_op

[castlescrows]

save me

summary: ghost has noticed you slacking off recently, you’ve fallen into a depressive state and need someone to help you. It’s a good thing he’s there for you. pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x gn!reader, platonic!price x gn!reader

hurt comfort

warnings: mentions of not eating, depression, cursing, mentions of death

-It started off with you all coming back from a very hard mission

-The mission had failed, partly with a mistake you made

-you had felt so guilty, and couldn’t look at anyone on the helicopter

-soap could see you tearing up from his peripheral vision, but didn’t bring it up

-he didn’t want to make you feel worse than you already were feeling

-he didn’t judge you, everyone made mistakes, nobody is perfect

-but ghost, ghost was livid

-His anger was radiating off of his body

-he was mostly mad at himself for letting such a thing happen

-after all, he was the lieutenant and was responsible for his sergeants

-he was also worried, he almost saw you die in front of his very own eyes

-the second the helicopter landed you made a beeline for the shower, but before you could you got pulled back into a strong wall

-only that strong wall was a chest, your lieutenants chest

“Sergeant, my office now.” -you had followed ghost to his office, where he had slammed the door and ordered you to sit

-he had screamed at you for being so careless, and you couldn’t even hide your tears

-you had already felt horrible about the entire situation

-in addition to that imagine your superior, the person you look up to, scream at you for an honest mistake

-you broke down sobbing in front of him, not being able to contain your regret

-you couldn’t even get a word out, before you heard a knock on the door

-both of you turned your head to the door, and then saw Captain Price peek his head in.

“Lieutenant I need a word with you.” “alright. Sergeant you are dismissed, but don’t think that I’m letting you off the hook. I will find you later.”

-you nodded before wiping your tears and opening the door and leaving

-price looked at you with concern as you left

“Ghost, you need to go easy on her, the poor kid already feels bad enough. She’s been crying since we got evac to her location.”

“She could have costed us our cover, she almost fucked our entire operation” Ghost exclaimed. He was so scared to lose you, he had no other way to express his fear except in the form of anger.

-price calmed ghost down and they moved onto paperwork

-even though you were gone, your sad form never leaving simon’s mind

——————————-

-two weeks go by and nobody has seen you out of your room except for meetings and trainings

-you had bags under your eyes, and you didn’t show up to any meals

-soap tried to leave you food by your room, but it would stay there all night, untouched

-Simon almost felt a little guilty for the way he yelled at you, noticing the true effect of his words on you

-after a night at the pub, simon, soap, gaz and price all tried to come up with ways to help you get back to your normal ways

-nobody except Simon and price knew what happened in his office

-Simon felt like he was the reason to blame for your depressive state

-he decided that he would try to talk to you after training the next day

-as you were moping around your dorm, you heard a knock on the door

-you had been in bed since training, and the night sky had already started to peak from your curtains

-you didn’t bother to get up and open the door

“open the door, now sergeant, or I’m gonna break it down myself.”

-you got up to open the door, and had a peak of your state in the mirror

-you looked horrible, eyes red, hair messed up, and noticeably skinnier

-you opened the door to see your lieutenant

-his eyes widened seeing your form

“I want to talk, can I come in?”

“sure”

-you both sat down on your bed, the awkward silence in the room evident

“We all make mistakes. You were careless, and things went wrong. Now that you know what not to do next time, I assume this won’t ever happen again.”

“I am so sorry sir, I never wanted to hurt anyone.” “I understand. You need to eat. Here.” -he handed you tonight’s dinner. You took it slowly and started eating

-After you finished eating, he took you outside to get fresh air

“I didn’t mean to be so harsh with you. I just care about you, you're under my watch. I wasn’t supposed to let this happen.”

“it’s okay.”

-you both sat on the roof of the base, and just silently watched the stars

-ghost pulled out a cigarette and offered it to you

-your hand accidentally brushed against his, and before you moved your hand away, he grabbed it and held it. -he moved you closer to him, and blew the smoke out of his mouth

-you didn’t want to admit it, but being next to Simon and just his presence made you feel way better than anything has in the past 2 weeks

-maybe ghost would be the one to save you.

a/n: I hope you guys enjoyed! I have been busy with school so sorry for not posting a lot. This one was hard to write #writersblock! 😛 let me know what you guys wanna see next!

#captain john price #cod x reader #cod #cod mw2 #ghost call of duty #ghost #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #angst with a happy ending #comfort #price #john price #captain price #simon ghost riley #ghost bc #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap mw2 #mw2 #call of duty ghost

[thoughtswordsandnonsense]

Not so Festive Xaden x Violet

Prompt: Winter Solstice at Basgiath means a week-long break for students and teachers, most are out celebrating but Violet has a hard time getting out of bed or caring about anything. Once Xaden catches on with the help of Violet's friends, they come together to comfort her.  

Trigger warning for seasonal depression and loss of family members. Sorry if this sucks, I'm in a bit of a funk right now.

Violet’s Pov: 

School had let out this week and while we aren’t allowed contact with family, most found a way to celebrate. Some we’re getting drunk, others we’re exchanging small gifts of baked goods and little trinkets they managed to sneak into Basgiath. 

Me, I was curled in bed feeling colder than ever, my body and mind feeling disconnected as I stared blankly at my wall. Liam had tried to come see me the first day off but I told him I wasn’t feeling well and didn’t want to get him sick. That was a few days ago and only Rhiannon had bothered to try, though I quickly fed her the same story. Adding in a few coughs while she was here, she quickly bid me goodbye so she wouldn’t catch what I had. Lying felt bad, but at this moment I didn't care. 

Tairn has been grumbling at me for a few days and Andarna has made it her mission to try and get me to eat, but the energy it takes to leave this room is too much. Everything felt like it was too much. Brennan used to say the weather change made me like this though it wasn’t always this bad, he’d do his best to spend this week with me and Mira curled up in blankets with hot chocolate listening to Dad tell stories or all of us reading together. 

Mom hated that he let us take it easy once Solstice hit, she said it made us all soft and we were being useless. That we should be training or learning and not being so lazy. None of us cared though, the time together felt warm, cozy and loving, but now it only added to the hurt, not having Brennan or Dad made my heart ache. Warm tears lined my vision as it blurred, thinking of them only made the hurt intensify. 

“This isn’t healthy” Tairn butts in and I groan. “I’m well aware.” “Then come see us,” Andarna adds and I shove my face into my pillow, drawing my blanket above my head. “I love you both but please, just let me be.” Tairn huffs as Andarna makes a high-pitched whine that sounds similar to a dog’s. “Fine, we’ll do this the hard way.” Tairn huffs “The fuck does that mean?”

 I grumble back but receive no response from either of them and I curl in on myself. 

To anyone else, this may seem pathetic, but it’s easier than having to fake being happy in front of everyone. 

Closing my eyes I let the coldness embrace me again, my window slightly propped open so I’d at least get some semblance of fresh air without having to go outside. There’s no noise besides the wind howling outside and it lets me slip further into numbness, tears that were going to fall earlier drying. 

Some time passes as I focus on only my breathing, the slight light that is making its way past my curtain has long gone as the cold night breeze makes its way into my room and seeps into my bones.

My door creaks and I bury myself further into my blanket. “I’m still not feeling good, you shouldn’t be in here.” I croak as my door shuts, loud footsteps make their way over to my bed and something is set heavily on my nightstand I peek my head out to see Xaden looking down at me with sympathy, my neck cranes just to see his face. A mage light shines on my desk illuminating the room. “You can fool others all you want Violet, but Tairn and Andarna tattled on you.” I groan “I hate you both right now.” Andarna whimpers and Tairn snarls “Watch it SIlver One, we’re just looking out for you.” Xaden sighs and it brings my attention back to him. “I’m not going to make you explain, I’m sure Tairn shared more than you’d like, but I won’t be leaving you like this.” “Since when do you care about more than keeping me alive?” His shoulders sag as he takes a deep breath his large warm hand coming to cup my cheek tenderly as he speaks. “Contrary to what you may think, I do care for you.” The warmth from his skin and tone shocks me as I glance up at his concerned gaze, his tall frame leaning over me as he takes in my ghostly complexion. Mira always said that a lack of sun made me look like a ghost. His hair looks devilish like he had just come from flying on Sgaeyl, the dark circles under his eyes tell me he also hasn’t slept much this break.

Another creek of the door I find Rhiannon and Liam standing in my doorway, Xaden turns and nods to Liam as they enter and make their way over. Both of them have grey fuzzy blankets draped around their shoulders and pillows under each arm. “Why didn’t you ask for help?” Xaden asks as they set up their stuff near my bed. “I just didn’t want to,” I whisper, feeling my cheeks heat up in embarrassment that they’re seeing me like this. Rhiannon meets my eyes and levels a glare that would make Mira proud, it’s similar to the look of a disapproving mother. “We’re friends, so like it or not we’re all staying here with you, including Riorson. You don’t have to suffer alone.” Liam tosses a pillow at Xaden's head that he manages to grab at the last second. 

He tosses it to the other side of my bed and then leans down and picks me up, I thrash as he whispers in my ear. “I’m here whether you like it or not. So how about you don’t fight me for just this once Violence?” He arranges us so I’m sitting in his lap and I cease thrashing, he leans his back up against my headboard and settles me in between his legs. I lean back against him as he reaches one arm out to the window and promptly shuts and latches it while the other keeps a firm grip on me. 

“How were you managing to be in here without getting hypothermia? Fuck, it feels like a morgue in here.” Liam comments as he pulls his blanket closer to him. “Sorry,” I shoot back quietly as Xaden pulls me even closer to him. His body feels painfully hot against mine as I try to squirm out of his hold. Xaden jumps as our bare skin connects. “Fuck, stay still.” He hisses as he pulls off his jacket and lays that on top of the blanket already on top of us.

 “Do you want help with your hair?” Xaden asks and I shrug “That bad?” The loose braid I put it in when the break started was likely a mess and I hadn’t cared to try and fix it. “Not to be a bitch  but, yeah dude it looks rough,” Rhiannon answers and I sigh knowing it’ll suck to fix later. “You don’t have to. I’ll get to it later.” Rhiannon tosses my hair brush that was sitting on my desk next to Xaden. “If you need help just ask.” She says as she settles into a conversation with Liam. Talking about the gossip of drunken first years at Solstice. Xaden’s hands slide into my hair, working the tie loose and starting from the bottom of my messy French braid. Lowly laughing as Rhiannon tells of Barlow throwing up on Dain, Liam's laugh is contagious to the point even I find myself cracking a smile. For the first time in days, I relax as Xaden’s fingers work through my hair, gently pulling apart tangles and rubbing my neck as he gets closer to my scalp. “Thank you.” I send down the bond to Tairn and Andarna. “Next time it gets this bad come find me, please,” Xaden says lowly into my ear as he finishes untangling my hair. “Okay.” 

Xaden passes me a mug as the smell of hot chocolate hits my nose and my eyes water all over again as my heart constrictions, I swallow past the lump in my throat and look up into his onyx gold-flecked eyes. ”Thank you.” 

#writing #booktok #fanfic #violet sorrengail #xaden riorson #booklr #fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing imagine #rebecca yarros #xaden x violet #rhiannon matthias #liam x xaden x violet #violet and xaden #violence sorrengail #empyrean series #the empyrean #violet x xaden imagine #imagines #liam mairi #seasonal depressive disorder

[aliceinclockland]

Cardcaptor Magicians and their Ceremonial Clothings

Welcome to Episode one of my random Cardcaptor Blabberings (or blabblecaptor— it's a working tag title), a "series" where I talk about random Cardcaptor things without doing that much deep diving because I hate too much research.

Since I'm notorious for starting things and not being consistent to the point of not even continuing what I started, let's see how this one goes. 😆 I'm also bad at words so wish me luck.

I'd like to start this off by saying 2 things:

this all started because I saw Sakura's pointy hat and got reminded by Kaito's ceremonial robe... then got reminded of Eriol's robe right after.

this isn't a serious analyzation of their outfits, given the reason i wanted to blabber about this is their pointy hats. also I'm more of a Nadeshiko when it comes to fashion: so far from the word 💀

Lastly, take this as a silly post while I try to learn how Tumblr works. I don't want people to use this as a source (or anything similar) because at the end of the day, this is all just silly typings of someone who excels in associating the most random stuff with each other without being able to explain why.

With all of that out of the way, Let's get started!

lold what i said earlier, the moment i saw Sakura's color page in Chapter 74 my mind went straight into Kaito's robe, and when my brain went to remind me of Kaito's ceremonial robe colored page, it immediately went to Eriol, and then started to compare the three, asking myself about their similarities aside from the initial idea of this entire post, the pointy hats.

starting off with the robes, all 3 of them have their attires in the color black. idk why it's like that, but it makes the gold in their clothing shine more i guess 😆

the patterns the clothings have also are (mostly. just in case if there's a part where it's not) symmetrical, visibly seen within the designs on the torso parts (in this case, Eriol & Sakura's chest (?) part, and Yuna D. Kaito's back). I could say it's the magicians' insignia but just in case it's not I'll just say symmetrical symbols 😅

but, surely that's not the only similarities, right?

well, aside from the pointy hats™ and the color scheme & patterns their robes have, I also realized that they're also all powerful magicians~

Eriol is Clow's reincarnation, and according to various Cardcaptor characters, he (Clow) was the most powerful magician to ever exist (but also the most fucked up one as well, i guess.)

Given that Clow's reincarnation were 2 people (he thought he could divide his magical abilities between them), Eriol still (unfortunately) got all of the magic, and most of Clow's memories, literally passing down his title of being the most powerful magician onto Eriol.

This manchild can do lots of things, and his memory of his past life helps him excel in some of everyday skills a "normal child" would struggle with (ie. baking, drawing, sewing, speaking a language, etc). But, no one knows that— not even Sakura until he told her that himself.

also I'd like to point out the fact that despite a lot of his robe's designs were in gold (color, who knows if it's really gold? I don't.), the lining of his outfit is in red.

not sure if Clow's robe is similar (if not the same) or anything but if it is, has his robe been passed down from generations before him? and if so, which side of Clow's family was the robe from?

Yuna D. Kaito is also a powerful magician— in fact, one of (if not the) highest ranks in the Magical Association. (that's the D. in his name— it wasn't his middle name and in fact, Yuna D. Kaito probably isn't his real name) He can do lots of things, but he specializes in Time Magic... which is considered a taboo since you'll get a fucked up alternative world when YOU fucked up using that kind of magic... and also a shorter life-span but let's not delve much into that so this post won't go to the depressing direction 😁

And in regards of his robe, one can argue that the robe isn't really exclusively HIS, since you can see in the picture I've used that there are other people with him wearing the same clothing (assuming it's his clan's) so i suggest burning their headquarters down to ashes to make it YDK's own robe 😆😆

note: a kind friend in the comments pointed out my mistake of associating Yuna D. Kaito and Lilie Shinomoto's clans as one: their clans differ from each other. Yuna D. Kaito's in particular are a congregation of magicians that aren't blood-related and are officially referred to as "Magic Association".

i have no idea what to call his or Lilie's clans yet, but for now I'll refer to those as their respective clans 😅

Now onto the main Protagonist of the series: Sakura Kinomoto. In Tomoyo's words, "The only Cardcaptor in the world"

Started as a girl that had little magic that managed to grew stronger and stronger, then now having one of the abilities Clow had— creating cards (or new magic) on her own.

Though one can argue that she won't be able to do that if Yuna D. Kaito wasn't pulling the strings in the background, keep in mind that Momo said she saw right past Eriol's magic protection [to contain Sakura's magic]. Plus, in the Sakura Arc (where she technically created new cards but under a "template"), Eriol was pulling the strings as well and yet her powers still managed to grow, probably beyond people's expectations.

Her ever-growing power might be hard to control for her, but she's doing her best to utilize it in protecting the ones she cherishes the most.

Now the upcoming argument about Sakura's"ceremonial attire"... well, technically Sakura doesn't have one, and you can't really call that outfit a robe, but most of the details in a ceremonial robe (at least CLAMP's robes) present: the neutral color, the symmetrical design, and the gold lining/design.

I like to consider it her own ceremonial robe— made in a very fitting and unique image of Sakura, that only she will wear.

speaking of different, there are other powerful magicians that doesn't follow the same "ceremonial outfit" pattern so I thought I'd show them too!

here we have the Shinomoto Ceremonial Outfit, worn by the beautiful Akiho Shinomoto in this color page!

sorry about the picture if it's not clean... i tried so hard to find a textless one (same as yuna d. kaito) but unfortunately I couldn't.

now about the details aside from the pointy hat: the neutral color + gold lining & symmetrical detail scheme is there, but the difference with the 1st three and their robe is that the neutral color used with the Shinomotos' were white, as opposed to the first three who used black.

i know you've seen this already but since I'm talking about Lilie here in specifics I'd like to put this here are well: a kind friend in the comments pointed out my mistake of associating Yuna D. Kaito and Lilie Shinomoto's clans as one: their clans differ from each other, and that Lilie's (though only officially referred to as "most ancient magician clan in Europe") clan is blood-related, as opposed to Yuna D. Kaito's.

again, no idea what I'll call their respective clans separately yet, so I'll probably refer to them as their respective clans for now— though i have a few ideas xd

another difference is that the hat may be a bit pointy, but it's not as pointy as the three, and that the hat has three pointy things instead of just one.... okay, maybe not that pointy, but, still pointy 😅

okay that's too many pointy, let's get back on track 😁

the difference is blatantly obvious about this one, and I really can't cross Lilie Shinomoto out from one of the most powerful magicians CCS has ever introduced, since she had strong premonition powers and she was also considered a very powerful magician that's feared within Yuna D. Kaito's Clan. I mean it would take lots of powerful magic to be even able to cross time and dreams for that long just to tell Sakura about the truth in their (now fabricated) timeline?

but i wonder why is their robe different than the others?

we'll get back to that later, if i remember it. 😆

speaking of pointy hats™, you know a magician who doesn't have a pointy hat?

He's none other than Li Clan's next leader and Sakura's most important person, Syaoran Li!

one can never talk about ceremonial outfits without remembering Syaoran's iconic ceremonial outfits! with S because he has two— 1st one (in the pictures) being the original clothing he has, and the 2nd one Tomoyo made for him that was inspired by the one he used to have.

our little wolf is special~ from being Sakura's rival in the Clow Card Arc to being Sakura's most important person? He has learned so much and grew stronger along the way.

now about the details: his clothing doesn't really follow the usual attire pattern: the dominant color of his robe is green, the designs are indeed symmetrical, but the linings are both orange and yellow instead of the usual neutral pallete... his hat also doesn't have a pointy thing on it and instead has a hanging detail on the back.

"what about the attire Tomoyo made for him? it has 2 pointy things!" yeah well you're right, and as much as I gave the effort to add his Clear Card arc ceremonial outfit, I'm realizing now that it's not really an official robe now, is it...

about the clear card ceremonial attire, one can argue the same thing as they thought about Sakura while reading this blabber (if anyone has gotten though this far), "That isn't even a ceremonial ROBE". and you're right, it isn't... since it was Tomoyo's work, inspired from the original one. 😅

so think of it the same way as Sakura— made in the fitting and unique image of Syaoran, that only he could wear.

I guess the main couple of the series have that one as a similarity in regards to this random topic I've thought about. 💚

sooooooo what does this mean? why is his so different than the others?

is he not as powerful as the ones listed?

well. probably.

but he's not entirely powerless— his entire bloodline is directly related to Clow, and in addition, his mother Yelan Li is also a powerful sorceress. So they're powerful.

I mean would the Li Clan even let someone not as powerful as Yelan to be the next in line to lead? Of course not, since being able to have magic and to be able to properly control it are probably some basic requirements to be even considered as a candidate.

But in CCS at the moment, his magic wasn't enough to turn all of the Sakura Cards into those little orbs he kept on his compass. He's even having a hard time converting just one. And if I remember this correctly, he was aided by her mother (by casting the magic he needed in the bears) when he snatched the Sakura Cards from their master.

I'd say he's not as powerful NOW probably because everything happened too fast, and that he didn't have much time to make his magic stronger to get at least within Sakura's power level. Besides, he has lots of potential, and we all know he's a strong one so it's about just a matter of time until he reach his full power.

Now this entire post got me thinking about things as I was typing it.

Mostly they're questions I had to ask, like "okay, now what?" "Why did I do this?" especially because the original plan i had was to only have Eriol, Yuna D. Kaito & Sakura here but I thought I'd be unfair to the Lilie & Akiho, and Syaoran since they both have their own as well...

I really didn't think that one through when I started typing, but the more I think of things to type, the more I asked myself, is the ceremonial clothing an indicator of how powerful you are?

and it's probably a "duh." moment, since the ones who have robes are part of clans AND are also powerful.

(note that Clow was from a union of a European Magician AND an Asian Magician so imo- technically he's still part of BOTH clans, if each of his parents were part of one)

it's probably more of "if you're in an association with lots of other magicians", considering the fact that some of the ceremonial clothings were passed down to the living blood-relative of the family— hence why Sakura doesn't have one and the rest has.

though eriol with that ceremonial outfit can be a bit questionable since he's a reincarnation n stuff, and so far I don't remember ERIOL (capitalized bc I've been linking him to Clow, but I'm talking abt him as JUST him) being part of a clan since he worked independently (as far as I can remember), from what I can recall it was mentioned in the anime that the ceremonial clothing resembled Clow's... correct me if I'm wrong, though.

with the additional input i got from Cinzia (the friend who also pointed out the difference between Akiho's & Yuna D. Kaito's clans),

I also now wonder if the colors used in their robes reflect their intentions? or, since Lilie & Akiho's clan has been around for ages, how long their bloodline has existed?

because if it's the former, then it really won't make sense for Sakura & Eriol (though Eriol is once again, questionable... since his previous body as Clow isn't particularly... good nor he is also evil— at least from my perspective), and the latter makes more sense in general.

another one question i have is the explanation for Meiling's ceremonial clothing? like do they give different styles of ceremonial clothes in the Li Clan based on your gender? your magical abilities? or how closely-related you are to whoever leads the clan? i mean, i know she's an anime-exclusive character but I still want to know because I'm curious...

lastly, i wonder if Nadeshiko has one... since she is also a powerful person (she really doesn't do much sorcery stuff as far as i can remember), though the extent of her magic is unclear like Lilie, it's clear that she's also powerful because she can still do lots of things even after life.

IF you're one of the few people who finished reading this i just want to say thank you, and i hope everything made sense since i am very bad at explaining my thoughts 😭.

I think that's it, my brain is tired now and i want to go back to sleep again so good day to everyone and until next time, if there will ever be a next time 😆

and, cut! 🎬

#blabblecaptor #cardcaptor sakura #cardcaptor sakura clear card arc #card captor sakura #cardcaptor sakura clear card #clear card #clear card arc #yuna d. kaito #akiho shinomoto #sakura kinomoto #syaoran li #eriol hiiragizawa #lilie shinomoto #blabbcaptor

[p0rchc0ll4ps3]

random harry / jean pre-martinaise thoughts. headcanons mostly since the game doesn't give Much to go off. wrote this to gather my thoughts for how to write the jean/harry dynamic.

warning for suicide mentions and also dora is underage (17) when harry meets her. also abusive toxic relationships and domestic violence. also brief nsfw mention (just "they fuck" and that's it, nothing in-depth). also these people r homophobic

so jean:

Partnered with Harry from '46 to '49

officially met harry after dora left harry in '45. Never met dora. was aware of / had talked to harry b4 then, but they didn't work together

Partnered w Harry after a previous partner left Harry.

Only guy left (along with trant but jean forced trant to stay)

then Harry timeline maybe:

Met Dora when he was 23 and she was 17 in ’30. They lived together for 3 years. The first 2 years are perfect, happy, out of a dream.

Cracks start to form in the facade about year 3, but they try to work through it. But she’s young and naive. She convinces him to join the rcm bc he cares so much for revachol it hurts. Stop wasting your potential being a gym teacher, be a cop. Save the world

And he does he goes and joins. But then they start to run out of money. And he starts to lose it

Joined rcm in ’33 when he was 26

Did so many cases probably coz of stimulants + alcohol

Has had amnesiac blackouts in the past

In the beginning Harry's GOOD. Hes SMART. He manages. And then they load case after case on him. And hes already manic depressive as fuck (bc i hc him with bipolar i). So hes already working up a healthy alcohol addiction. Bc he and dora argue a lot.

After the first year or two, the arguments start to get more and more frequent. They’re not good for each other, but you don’t just Leave someone. You have to stick with them. And maybe dora also had hope he’d get better

But towards the end it’s toxic as fuck, she hits him, he hits her, they yell at each other. Toxic environment breeds toxic out of both of them.

She basically matured around him, under his influence, so it’s VERY abusive, and she starts to come into her own person and demand independence, and fight back, and he doesnt like that. And she also doesnt like it when hes sad and she TELLS HIM that. And he doesnt like that. Bc shes SHIT with his mental illness and not patient or understanding at all. Plus he's drunk and high so much, so as far as she’s concerned that’s why he’s like that (his manic and depressive; she blames it on the drugs and the drink) (ignoring the fact that he’s been this way since the beginning bc the first two perfect years remain without issue in her mind, even tho there are plenty of issues there)

Dora left him in ’45, 12 years after he joined the rcm.

She’s 38 in ’51, he’s 44. 6 year age gap. Were together for 15 years

Had a previous partner in the rcm from 33 to 46. 13 years working together!!!!!!! (Harry was 26 to 39; old guy (born in ’85) was 54 to 67)

Maybe an older guy who mentored harry. Like a real noir type of guy. Gets partnered with this new young guy bc hes really good at his job and harry can keep up. Was like. Yeah no I dont want to work with anyone anymore, but then theres harry and he needs a partner and the older guy is like fuck. I like this one lemme grab him. Bc he sees harry’s potential. They work REALLY well together. Old guy teaches harry a lot of shit. hes super bitter on the outside and hardened by life, and harry gets a lot of his vices from him. The guy’s a drunk old cranky bastard and no one wanted to work with him and they all thought oh this guy won’t lighten up. But he picks harry. And harry opens him up.

He’s really good with harry’s manic episodes. But it’s like. They bounce off each other, balance each other out. But also maximize the shit. Encourage the bad habits in each other

Old guy is shit with the depressive episodes. Harry says I feel like killing myself, old guy says go ahead and do it nothing in life matters

Harry got manic sometime in that time frame in the year and a half after dora left him and said FUCK this old guy. Fuck your cranky bitter awful ass youre dragging me down. Youre too old. You cant keep up with me. I want that one other guy (jean) bc he’s smart he’s young hes capable he can fix me. Fuck off, im working with jean now (maybe he and jean have had a case or 2 in the past that helped harry realize jean's potential)

So the old guy quit. He just ditches he’s like ok suffer whatever see if I fucking care. Imagine your partner of 11 years starts getting super pissed at you and now getting emotionally dependent on you and clingy as fuck the old guy just COULDNT handle that

harry was manageable in the beginning. it started to seriously go to shit when dora left him bc before he would go home and take it out on dora. so his work didnt see his bad side until he lost her. She was his anchor, his life, his rock, and when he lost her he had no fucking idea what to do. started to take out his issues on his coworkers instead

Jean again:

Jean has been in the rcm for a while, maybe since he was 20 in ’37? He’s a sensitive sort of guy in there, he feels how the world hurts, so he wants to help. But also he joins bc it makes him feel tough. He can push people around. Gives him an excuse to be a bully. See dad? IM TOUGH. Fuck you (he has major mommy/daddy child abuse issues. bc i hc him as having been a very sensitive kid who cried a lot. and got bullied by everyone for it, family especially. now he has a major superiority / not-man-enough complex)

Hes also Really good at his job. Hes happy doing housework!!! He likes patrolling and giving people tickets and doesnt want to do much else. plus he's very bonded to his horse. therapy horse

Jean is diagnosed by the lazareth for depression when he’s 27 bc he slips a little on his copwork I think.

Harry grabs him in ’46 when jean is 29, so jean does horse for 9 years, then 5 years of homicide with harry where he goes thru the absolute stress of his life getting thrown into lieutenant position completely unprepared for it

Jean is ok with harry at first bc he has hope, jeans a guy who hopes, and hes like ok harry will get thru this hes smart, but slowly jeans like ah fuck nope. This ones a lost cause. They work together for 4 and a half years!

Harry helps jean thru a breakup and is genuinely nice. I think harry slips into a manic episode when first working with jean and jean knows that side of him first, then he stabilizes, then sinks into depression again

In the 4 years they work together:

In the beginning of working with harry, jean breaks up with his girlfriend of like. 6 years. Who he’s known since ’40 when he was 23 (it’s '46 now and he’s 29). Harry helps him through it and jean gets really attached to harry coz of that

About 3 years in (in '49) they have homosexual relations. Ie they fuck. Bc harry gets really awful. Really starts slipping

And the case load is a LOT for jean. And he’s been thru 5 girlfriends in three years since that other one and it’s been shit. They’ve all left him bc he has to choose work over them (and also coz he's a crybaby but also coz he's super pushy and controlling)

And jean’s lonely as fuck. And he’s starting to drink too bc of harry. And bc of his influence. And they fuck and jean gets obsessed with him and he’s like fuck this is gonna’ wreck everything (there's a lot of internal homophobia here too). He really tries to be professional but it’s HARD when harry’s got so many ups and downs

Bc jean genuinely is there for and DOES help harry. Harry just. Keeps relapsing. Constantly. But jean keeps coming back bc Harrys so clingy and genuinely nice to him etc

Jean’s dealt with harry suicide attempts like so many times in this time period. Countless

But in ’49 b4 they fuck, harry tried to make a move on jean bc he really was getting obsessed with him, and jean denied him bc jean’s homophobic as fuck

A week later harry kills himself. Or. he’s supposed to be dead, but he doesn’t die somehow

That’s when he goes missing for a few days and jean finds harry in his apartment half dead. Tried to hang himself

They get SUPER codependent after that. And it gets toxic. Bc jean hates being emotionally vulnerable with another man and bc harry can get violent when rejected or just violent unexpectedly

There may be a jean suicide attempt in there too, but something like passively suicidal: doesn’t have a regard for himself or a sense of self-preservation. Harry’s had to save his life before, help him out of danger (and vice versa tbh)

Jean is more trigger happy than harry, so part of the reason harry has so few kills is bc jean took them. But also jean is really good at stopping harry. And ALSO harry just. Really doesn’t want to kill people. He talks first, shoots later (unlike Kim who shoots first, talks later). Hes a really competent cop, its just that his unmedicated bipolar ass and his work stress and his breakup issues and the jean codependency really drown him

i know there's definitely more going on here, and i could go earlier about harry (he's a child of divorce and learned a lot from his parents about how to treat a partner (ie yell and shout at her), he has a lot of trauma from working child labor and also from watching his friends die in his teens) but these r my basic vague thoughts rn

#anyhow #c4rg0f1l3s #disco elysium #disco elysium spoilers #ig? yeah maybe for dora? it's mostly headcanons #my writing #kinda' #harry du bois #jean vicquemare #dora ingerlund #do i need to put this under a cut?? #disco elysium headcanons #i might get slack for this. ITS FINE. im trying to keep all my hcs very revacholcore im ngl #theres a specific way the game sets up its characters n i wanna try and capture that #scary still. lets see how it goes #marfă din elysium