#Oh to be wanted past someone's inhibitions

[baku-usagi]

If blackwall has 100 fans I'm one of them, if he has one fan it's me, if he has no fans it's cause I'm dead.

Blackwall 4life

[ryukatters]

drunk in love — s. gojo ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

⟡ summary: you walk gojo back to his dorm after a night of drinking

⟡ pairing: satoru gojo x gn!reader

⟡ content/warnings: major fluff, underage alcohol consumption, boyfailure gojo, gojo calls reader pretty, mutual pining, drunken confessions, kiss kiss fall in love

⟡ wc: 1.4k

Satoru’s never been great at holding his alcohol.

The first time he got drunk was in secret inside of Suguru’s dorm room, late at night to ensure that there weren’t any teachers (read: Yaga) lingering in the hallway past curfew. His teacher did always seem to have some sort of divine intuition whenever it came to Satoru’s antics.

He had taken one shot and subsequently spat it all out onto the floor.

Satoru’s gotten better at handling his liquor, but he’s still very much a lightweight. That isn’t enough to deter him from refusing any shots Shoko or Suguru throw his way though, which probably isn't a great idea seeing how wasted your friends were. Which is surprising, because they tend to be a little better at handling their alcohol than Satoru. Chalk it up to wanting to celebrate for making it to the end of the school year.

It’s you who’s left to play damage control, considering how you were the only one still standing as the rest of your friends were all passed out on the cold hardwood floor of Shoko’s dorm, aside from one other person who’s currently gripping your leg, staring up at you, pleading like a kicked puppy.

Satoru was just as annoying if not more so when intoxicated. He couldn’t possibly sleep on the cold, hard, wooden floors…

…which is how you end up walking Gojo back to his dorm room. Though walking would be a very generous term, seeing how he’s using you as a human crutch, leaning most of his weight onto you as you struggle to keep the two of you balanced.

You try to usher Gojo onto his bed gently, but the boy seems to be too out of his wits to even do that properly. He unceremoniously flops onto his bed with a thud, banging his head against the wall in the process.

“Owww,” he clutches his head, pouting.

“That’s what you get,” you laugh.

“You’re mean.”

“Mean? I brought you all the way back here when I could have just let you sleep on the floor. That sounds pretty nice to me.”

His bottom lip juts out even further, much to your amusement. His sunglasses are hanging off the bridge of his nose, lopsided. You reach out to place them on his nightstand. His warm hand envelops your wrist before you can draw back, and brings your hand to cup his cheek. Maybe it’s alcohol and your decreased inhibition, or maybe its your own volition, but you can’t find it in you to pull away. You stroke your thumb against his pale, plush cheek, admiring the dimple that likes to make itself known when he smiles, just like he is right now.

Satoru runs warm. You’d think for someone with such an icy appearance and a reputation for being a cold-blooded sorcerer, his body temperature would follow suit. Maybe it’s because that frigidness is Gojo, the strongest, the honored one, and all the epithets that have burdened his shoulders from the minute he was born. But here, with you, he’s just Satoru— a boy with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, who can’t shoot whiskey, and loves his friends endlessly.

“My head hurts,” he whines.

“Oh, you poor baby,” you faux coo, rubbing your hand against the sore spot that will definitely have a lump tomorrow. Satoru eats it up though, melting into your touch. He’s even clingier when he’s drunk, you realize. Cute, you might even add. But the thought leaves just as soon as it comes. You’re a lot less sober than you thought you were.

Gojo’s voice pulls you out of your drunken daze. “Can you kiss it better f’me?”

“What?”

“Can you kiss…kiss me instead? So it doesn’t hurt anymore?” He slurs.

“Satoru, you’re too drunk.”

“‘m not!” Whatever defense he has for himself fails as a hiccup escapes past his lips. For a second, you think he might fall asleep like this, leaning into you. But then his eyes snap back open with a determined glint.

“Wan’…wanna kiss youuu,” he closes his eyes and puckers his lips, waiting for you to close the gap.

“Satoru…”

Where do you even start? You thought you’d be okay ignoring the budding feeling in your chest that consumes you most days you’re with the white-haired sorcerer. Deflection is the only way you know how to avoid acknowledging whatever this was. And it’s been working, sort of. “You can’t kiss someone you don’t like.”

He pouts even harder at that. “I like someone! I like you,” he says adamantly. “Like, like-like you.”

“Like-like? What are we, in kindergarten?”

You try your best to redirect the conversation, you don’t think you’re ready to face the implications of the fact that one of your best friends has feelings for you. Mutual feelings, you might add— the same feelings that have been eating away at you for months now, and the same feelings you’ve elected to ignore.

He pouts for the umpteenth time tonight before he lets out a huff, falling back onto the mattress. He props himself up on a pillow, peering at you curiously. It’s almost like you can see the gears turn in his head when he smiles deviously, both of his freakishly long arms reaching out to wrap around your waist and bring you flush against him.

You can feel the hot puffs of his breath, and you will yourself to look at him. Satoru’s eyes have always been so easy to get lost in.

He breathes out your name, sickeningly sweet. “I really do like you. You’re so pretty and strong and smart— it drives me a little crazy.” Your head is spinning, and the innate urge to run like you’ve been doing all this time sparks through you, but the grip that Satoru has on you is too strong. “Want you to like me back, I’ll do anything,” he says honestly.

Gojo’s good at the chase, and you’re something he’s in for the long run. You can run and run until there’s nowhere else to go, until your legs refuse to carry you a step further. He’ll always be there to catch you.

His hand traces delicate patterns along the side of your neck, still a bit too far gone to notice how your breath hitches. “I’ll buy you whatever you want, I’ll get you a big house and we can live together forever. I’ll take care of you, do whatever you want. I’ll be so good to you. For you.”

You’re stunned into silence. Your heart is threatening to leap out of your chest. It melts when you look at Satoru, who’s looking at you with all the hope in the world. The moonlight seeping through the blinds of his window casts the most intricate waves of light, illuminating Satoru’s features perfectly.

Satoru thinks he’s holding the world in his arms right now. He’s preparing himself for rejection, but it’s alright, he thinks— because he’s good at everything he tries and he’s willing to try and try again and again for you, just for the chance to be yours.

“Tell me that again in the morning when you’re sober,” you whisper, as if you’re afraid someone else could hear you within the confines of Satoru’s room. Like the weight of your words were a secret you couldn’t bear to let anyone else in on, except for one person— your one and only.

You take a leap of faith. You plant your hands on his chest to steady yourself, placing a chaste kiss on Satoru’s forehead— a symbol of assurance of your love for him— something that’s been a part of you from the very moment you met him.

Satoru’s heart squeezes in anticipation. He hugs you even tighter, laughing at the yelp of surprise you let out. He has never felt as more of a winner than he does right now. “I’ll tell you everything sober or drunk,” he promises, unable to contain his giddiness as you (finally!) let him pepper kisses all over your face.

“Everything, as long as it’s with you.”

a/n: gojo can not handle hard liquor so he’s drunk off of some (shots of) smirnoff ice 😎

[reminiscingtonight]

Gay 4 Me

Alessia Russo x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: A little spiciness, talks about solo-action if you get my drift. Based on the G Flip and Lauren Sanderson song

[WOSO Masterlist]

You find out by accident. 

Katie, shit-stirrer she is, is in the midst of ribbing the fuck out of Alessia. The striker had missed one too many goals, one too many passes, one too many everythings at practice and the Irish woman’s taking too much joy in rubbing it in her face. 

“Mate, you’re too stressed. Gotta find yourself a lovely lad or someone to work out the tension.”

“There’s no tension, Katie!”

“Tell that to your shoulders,” the brunette snorts, fingers flicking at Alessia’s shoulder. 

The blonde bats her hands away, a frown on her face. “There’s no tension,” Alessia repeats, annoyance leaking into her voice.

“There’s no shame in getting a bit of help, Lessi.” Katie shrugs. “I might judge your taste in… partners, but that’s exactly what they’re for. To help us relax a bit.”

“I don’t need help relaxing,” Alessia huffs.

It takes a second, but Katie eventually gets what the blonde’s telling her. Katie’s mouth splits into a devilish grin. The Irish woman’s always more than happy to get too close and personal, invading everyone’s private lives. 

“What, your fantasies that good?”

Alessia rolls her eyes. “I never said they’re fantasies, McCabe.”

“Oh come on, you can’t say straight sex is that good to be reminiscing about.”

“Well I never said it was straight sex now did I?”

Katie’s mouth drops open and Alessia uses the moment of reprieve to push past the Irish woman. 

You tuned into the conversation the second the two of them made it into the locker room. You’re not sure what it is but something about Alessia is just so magnetic, always drawing you in no matter what you’re doing.

So yeah, you’re already listening to Alessia and Katie’s bickering when you find out that Alessia apparently has no qualms getting some solo action. But those words paired with blue eyes flashing towards you has you struggling to swallow.

Good lord. 

Alessia Russo touches herself to the memories of the two of you having sex. And she just admitted it to the whole locker room. 

(Not that the girls know which memories she’s getting off to, of course)

A bolt of arousal shoots right through you as you drop your head, face flaming red. 

You can still remember the night it happened. The taste of tequila sharp on your tongue after a night out with the team. You’ll argue that the alcohol lowered your inhibitions but truthfully nothing but pure lust made you trail after your blonde teammate out of the bar. Alessia felt soft under you, the noises she made sounding like music to your ears. What she lacked in experience she clearly made up for in skill, easily bringing you to the precipice multiple times just as you did her.

Just the thought of sweet little innocent Lessi, hand shoved between her legs, nothing on her mind but your hot night together as she brings herself to release makes you want to take her apart right here right now. 

The feel of a hand trailing down your back has you hurtling back into the present, breath caught in your throat in surprise. Alessia seems amused when you start hacking away. Her hand stays in place as she hands you your water bottle.

“All good?” Her face is the picture perfect example of innocence but you can see right through her.

“All good?” you mock, shoving at her lightly. Alessia laughs, discreetly running her hand down your arm, pausing to give your bicep an appreciative squeeze before taking it back.

“Of course.” Her words are paired with teeth biting her bottom lip and you have to fight the urge to sink your own teeth into the rosy skin.

“You’re killing me, Less,” you groan under your breath.

“You can’t seriously be blaming me, can you? Was quite rude how you left me with an ache if I’m being honest.”

Eyes bulging at Alessia’s confession, you find yourself choking on yet another breath.

It’s the way she says it without any embarrassment, eyes glimmering with a slight challenge, that takes you off guard.

Deep in your head you can still hear your cousin’s warning when Alessia first signed for Arsenal. Ella had backed you into a corner at a family gathering, finger digging into your sternum the second you walked through the doors.

“Alessia’s my best mate and she’s the sweetest and most innocent girl ever. You better take care of her when she joins your stupid little club or so help me I will make your life a living hell the next time we see each other.”

You couldn’t find it in yourself to tell Ella that she seemed as threatening as a scraggly chihuahua. But you promised her that you would watch out for the blonde.

If only Ella could see her best friend now. Not so innocent and pure as she thought.

Though you really have no one to blame for that but yourself.

You know your cheeks are burning right now and you pray that none of your teammates are paying close attention to you and Alessia. If anyone was, they’d instantly know you guys are talking about things less than PG friendly.

Nervously chuckling, you keep your eyes trained to your bag, trying to ignore the way you can feel Alessia staring at the side of your face. “That great, huh?”

Alessia clicks her tongue, an action that has your head instantly going to the gutter, remembering exactly what she could do with the muscle. “If I’d have known how good you were in bed I would have asked Ella to hook us up eons ago.”

She’s grinning when you look up at her with an incredulous expression. “Alessia!”

“What?” she laughs, easily intertwining your fingers and leading you towards the door when she realizes you’re done packing. She leads you past a still dumbfounded Katie by the door, pausing long enough to wink at the Irish defender before you’re slipping away to the parking lot.

You have a feeling you’re going to have to endure an interrogation from the brunette in the days to follow, but right here right now, hand still caught in Alessia’s as you walk her to her car, you can’t find it in yourself to care all that much. 

Especially when Alessia suddenly hooks her fingers into your belt loops and yanks, sending you crashing into her body. You tilt your head back and laugh, arms resting around her shoulder so you don’t completely barrel her over.

“Well hello there,” she winks, as if she’s not the reason you’re currently pressing her against her own car.

“Alessia,” you return evenly, raising an eyebrow in question.

“I have a bottle of tequila and microwaveable chicken nuggets at my place. Wanna recreate some memories?”

You narrow your eyes at the striker. Her smile turns a little more teasing.

“Would you rather I straight up ask for you to put your fingers--”

“Shut up and get in the car, Less.”

[powerfultenderness]

A Good Boy

Summary: A very drunk König ends up at your door. Paring: König/F!Reader Rated: Mature Word count: 988 A/N: [Neighbor!König.] A little free write fluff before I get back to requests.

For @crisped-jello I know this isn't quite what you asked, so consider this a companion piece (bc I do like the request you sent! but König got drunk first!)

You heard the voices first, two men, before someone started to rattle your doorknob. It wasn’t an alarming situation for one reason only, you’d recognized one of the voices. 

You quickly turned off the TV so you could hear the muffled voices better.

“Are you sure this is the right key?” Of course this was followed by someone trying to jam a key in the door. 

The response, from the man that you were familiar with, was unintelligible. You chuckled under your breath and got up to answer the door. It was quite late, just past 2 a.m., and you were about to go to sleep (after one more episode!) so it was a surprise to hear your neighbor returning home at this hour. Well, him drinking with his friends made sense on why he didn’t show up around dinner like he usually did.

You opened the door and the young man in front of you nearly stumbled inside. The little surprised squeak you let out as he accidentally invaded your personal space was cut short as he was quickly shoved aside by the much bigger man.

“König!” 

Heat rushed to your face as he held you tight to his chest. Really tight. The side of your face was squished into his chest as he wrapped his arms around the back of your head and your shoulders. König’s scent enveloped you, a mixture of his soap and what you’ve come to know as the smell of gun oil and a touch of sulfur, all under an almost overwhelming smell of alcohol. Geez. How much did it take to get him this drunk? 

“I missed you, darling.” His words were slurred and he swayed on his feet as he hugged you.

“You saw me this morning.” You pried his hands off of you and put some breathing space between you, “why don’t you sit down.” 

He stumbled a bit, thankfully the young man that had been helping him caught one of his arms and kept a hold on him until he plopped down on your couch.

“Thanks,” you sighed and looked at the man. He was dressed similarly to König, with a black tee and green cargo pants, so you assumed he worked with him.

“Sorry it’s so late, ma’am. I didn’t know he lived with his girlfriend.”

Your face went hot again, “oh! We’re not. I mean, uhh. He lives across the hall.” 

A look of panic crossed his face, “ aw shit! Sorry! He said this was his flat! I can get him across-”

“No, no! It’s ok! He can sleep it off here.” 

“It was my job to-” 

That was apparently as long as König could go without your attention, as he reached for your hips and attempted to pull you to him. Perhaps only because of how drunk he was, you were fast enough to avoid falling by turning around to face him and snatching up his hands. “Hey, you know the rule. Only good boys get to touch.” 

You were mostly joking, but that line had worked wonders on reminding him to keep his hands to himself before. Judging by the way he always found a way to touch you, whether it was as overt as a hug or as subtle as his knee bumping yours, you figured he was a bit touch starved. With his inhibitions lowered, you can only imagine how handsy he’d be. You honestly didn’t mind his touches, but you wanted to at least let his friend (co-worker?) leave first.

König whined and reached for you again, though he stopped himself from actually touching you and let his hands hang in the air. Grabby hands. This giant, grown man was making grabby hands at you. 

The young man next to you glanced at you, mindful to keep his movements subtle, both confused and amused at the situation. 

“Recruit!” König suddenly yelled, voice booming in a way that made you jump and the man next to you stand at attention. “Tell her!” 

“Sir?”

Ah, so this guy was some kind of subordi-

“Tell her I have been a good boy!” 

You slapped a hand over your mouth to stop from laughing. The young man next to you, hands still at his sides, didn’t, but from the way he was biting his lip, it was hard for him to stop himself from laughing too.

Still seated, but no less imposing, König glared at the younger man and growled out his command again. “Tell her.” 

The recruit cleared his throat and looked at you. “Uh, yes. The colonel has been, uh, a, a good boy.” 

It was at that point that you could no longer contain your laughter and you chuckled into the hand you had covering your mouth. 

If the recruit finally broke and laughed too, you didn’t hear it, neither you nor König paying any more attention to him. 

“See! Now come here!” He reached for your hands and tried to pull you onto his lap. 

You managed to resist, still giggling, but ended up standing between his knees. “Alright. What do you want?”

He sat up straight, leaning up towards you, with wide eyes. “To eat your pussy.” 

“König!” You gasped, now acutely aware of the awkward cough you heard behind you, and pulled one hand out of his grasp and lightly pushed him back. 

He chuckled as he dropped back against the couch, though he never looked away from you.

You sighed and turned back to the still nameless younger man next to you and shook your head. “I’ve got it from here, you can go home now.” 

“Good night, sir. Ma’am.” 

After locking up, you looked at König. “How about we cuddle instead?” 

He nodded, “yes. Cuddle is good.” 

You made sure to set some painkillers and a glass of water on the coffee table before laying down with König on the couch, his arms tight around you. 

[Neighbor König Masterlist]

Neighbor König taglist (blurbs): Please let me know if you wish to be added or removed.

@warrior-of-justice  @cumikering @ihateuguys @rand0m--fangirl @keiva1000 @dtftheavengers @takeyour-pants-off @aeeliy @milenko115 @sodonuthideout @onegami @nadiauddincrafts @nadiauddincrafts @grizzersmamma @flooftoof

[stayinhellevator]

Intersection

"And now you're just a page torn from the story I'm living"

Synopsis: A twisted turn of events lead you to question everything you've ever known of Mingyu.

Pairing: Mingyu x fem!Reader

Genre: Soulmate AU/Angst/Betrayal

Word Count: 2723

Warnings: Cuss words, non-graphic description of s3x, probably bad writing, cheating

Playlist: Dynasty ~Miia

<Prev> <Masterlist> <Next>

All your life, the concept of soulmates was romanticised and worshipped. You had friends who were happily bonded, co-workers who found peace in their mates, hell even your parents were truly a match made in heaven; their relationship was such an inspiration for you that it made you crave that kind of intimacy and understanding with yours. The way they understood each other with just a knowing look made you respect their bond. You wanted what they had.

And you got it and more when you found Mingyu through some mutual friends and discovered that you two were soulmates. You were over the moon to have found a man so gorgeous inside out. You were scared that he was only a glittery sham but he swept you right off your feet.

There was not a day that passed by that Mingyu failed to make your life seem like a fairy tale. Sure you had your share of arguments and disagreements but in the end, you two ended up right back in each other's arms, where you two truly belonged. He made your heart race every single moment and there was no place that you'd rather be if not beside Mingyu.

There's nothing else you could possibly want.

Or maybe there is.

You watched the way Seokmin and his soulmate naturally gravitated towards each other, practically glowing with a giddy aura around them and you couldn't wait for the day when Mingyu and you were standing on the altar, exchanging vows of your own, just like them.

And you knew it would be equally, if not more, magical the day that you do, for your life with Mingyu was like a fruitful reward for all the sufferings of your past lives. It had to be because there's no way you'd be blessed with a partner like Mingyu, who seemed to love you more than life itself.

Your wandering eyes fell on another pair that you recognised and your heart filled with sympathy for them. Mingyu once shared Seungcheol's dilemma with you and you remember quickly sending a quick prayer to whatever God blessed you because you couldn't imagine being bondless and then finding love in someone who's meant for someone else, alone your own sibling. Thank God you had Mingyu who loved and accepted you without any inhibitions.

As if feeling your gaze on them, his lover met your eyes and you two exchanged a perceptive smile, completely aware of each other's expressions and feelings. You truly wished for them to find happiness, they were good people or at least from what Mingyu told you and you trusted him. He had known Seungcheol through work  before you two had even met, so obviously he knew better than you when it came to his friends and you completely trusted his judgement.

Speaking of which, it had been nearly half an hour since Mingyu disappeared with some colleagues for a few drinks. God you hope he didn't get drunk, he was already tipsy before he left. You turned down towards the hallway, aware that you need to find Mingyu soon for he becomes a real piece of work when drunk, refusing to part even an inch from you, sulking if you don't give into his bizarre wishes.

All of a sudden, a strenuous sensation gripped your chest, as if someone was squeezing your heart and then mangled it. It made you lean against the wall and rub your chest, hoping to soothe the discomfort. A drop of blood fell on your knuckle, making you realise that you had a nosebleed too.

What the hell was this? You had never felt something like this before. Was it something that you ate? Or drink? But you didn't drink too much. Oh God! What if something happened to Mingyu? Was he okay? You had several stories of a soulbond being affected if a bonded mate is injured or sick.

Gosh! You needed to find him without any delay.

You spotted a guest room right across you, the door ajar and seemingly vacant so you decided to use the washroom to clean off the blood of your face and clothes only to halt at the threshold, unable to process the sight that you witnessed.

A man that had a striking resemblance to Mingyu was all over a woman; their lips locked in a frenzy, their hands wandering to forbidden places and their hips conjoined and moving in short, quick thrusts.

The man moved his kisses down the woman's neck; the woman you knew all too well as Mingyu's ex-girlfriend and colleague, who though mutually broke up, was always having eyes for your soulmate, often throwing a few flirty remarks here and there, uncaring about your presence and soon enough you had learnt to ignore her because Mingyu hadn't given you any reason to not trust him, had he? He loved you and only you so why should you even bother?

It couldn't be your Mingyu, no, you were probably hallucinating. Mingyu would never cheat on you, he cannot even think of hurting you like that even in his wildest dreams.

The trickling tears down your cheeks angered you. Why were you even crying over a misunderstanding? You harshly wiped your cheeks, almost walking out when she moaned out his name, loud and clear, sealing the fated doom of your soul bond and the remainder of your life with it.

"Gyu!"

You helplessly watch as he groaned in what you know for sure, ecstasy as his vigour only fueled further. You wanted to look away but you couldn't, hoping this nightmare would end and you'd wake up back in the safety of your bedroom in Mingyu's arms. You had hoped that her voice calling out a name that only you did would snap him out of whatever trance he seemed to be in and he'd realise that this wasn't you but some other woman. But it didn't.

You could feel it creeping up in you, the anger, an intense, uncontrollable hateful rage the longer you watched them and before your brain could even process, your hands had already picked up the vase on the hallway table and hurled it towards those cheating bastards, apathetic of the force inflicting any serious injury. In fact, you wanted it to hurt, you wanted them to bleed just as much as your heart was.

No, you wouldn't be the only one to end up hurting tonight.

You watched as the two flinched at the sudden attack as the vase bumped onto Mingyu's head with a thud, that was sure to bruise, before bouncing off to his cheating accomplice, hitting her right in the face, making her cry out in agony.

Good! Die in pain and burn in hell.

"I hope you had a good fuck Kim Mingyu because this is the last time you feel anything."

You watched how Mingyu's face contacted in rage as he turned to face the intruder only to turn pale in horror as he realised you saw him being unfaithful to you. He jumped off the bed, fumbling over his clothes and putting them on haphazardly, increasing your disgust and fury. You swear you wanted to kill him and then yourself, such was your temper that was building up and consuming you. You dug your nails in your knuckles, wishing it'd distract you for a moment.

"Baby, I swear it's not like that. I ..I don't even know how I ended up here... It just happened...."

You wanted to believe him and you would have disillusioned yourself into thinking he made a drunken mistake, such was your love for him, if he wasn't sober. And that alone shattered your heart into further tiny irreplaceable bits. What excuse would you make up in your head to put your brain into a delusion that this never happened and that your Mingyu was in love with you. Only you.

"I can't believe you Mingyu. Why?"

You watched Mingyu visibly shrink as your exhausted question echoed in the silence of the room.

"I ..I don't know baby..I ..I have no excuses for this.... I'm so sorry baby.... Love...I will make it up to you I swear...."

The more he spoke, the more you wanted to hurt him. How dare he even have the audacity? How would he make it up to you? What would he make up when nothing is left to be repaired?

You watched as he tried to hold your shaking hands in his only for you to violently jerk his hold off you.

"Don't you dare fucking touch me with your disgusting hands."

You appalled scream froze him to his place as tears cascaded down his face as the horrifying effect of his infidelity finally settled inside him. His touch, his face, his whole fucking existence nauseated you so much you couldn't stand to even look at him any longer than you already have.

You ran past the guests outside the venue, quickly texting your brother to come and pick you up because you knew your body was slowly giving up and in no time, you'd shut down.

A hand pulled you back around through the elbow as you realised Mingyu had chased you and pulled you to his chest, holding you by the cheeks.

"It wasn't meant to go this far, I swear baby, we were just catching up by the bar and the next thing I knew we were in bed together. It doesn't mean anything to me. She doesn't mean anything to me. It's you love I swear. Please don't go. I don't want to lose you."

"For someone who doesn't want to lose me, you don't act like you want to keep me."

His face portrayed his helplessness as he sobbed in disbelief which made you scoff in disdain. Did he really think his pathetic excuse of a reason was enough for you to stay and torment yourself for the rest of your life?

"This was a huge mistake love and it'll never happen again. I promise you."

You pushed him off you, making him tumble a few steps back.

"Damn right it won't because I won't stay around to find out if it does."

You only managed to take a few steps ahead when he ran around you to block your way. AGAIN!

"Baby please don't leave me. You don't understand. I'll die without you."

The wrath that was bubbling up within you every single second finally erupted at his audacious words. How dare he play the victim? You landed an impactful punch on his chest, sending him a few steps away from yourself, wanting to have an outlet was the ever increasing rage inside you.

"I don't understand? YOU don't understand Mingyu how heartbroken it is to have your trust broken by the one person you blindly put your faith in. YOU don't understand how humiliated I feel as I'm unable to face my own thoughts because I still can't process you could ever cheat on me in your friend's wedding venue. YOU don't understand how angry I feel at myself for still hoping you'd have a valid enough excuse for me to take your unfaithful ass back. YOU don't understand that all I see when I look at you now is not the countless good memories of us but you kissing and touching another woman the way you should've only done to me."

You could hear your voice dampening with every sentence as the weight of those vulnerable words settled between you two in the hollow night as sobs wrecked your fatigued body. Where did it all go wrong?

"Where did I lack Mingyu? What was it that I couldn't give to you? Why couldn't you tell me if I didn't satisfy you enough? What could I have done differently for you to not disgrace our bond like this?"

All your rage boiled down to cries as hopelessness washed all over your senses. You had endlessly and limitlessly given yourself to him and you still weren't enough? All those cherished moments between you two didn't mean anything to him? Your sacred bond reduced and succumbed to a one night stand. Was this your worth?

"It wasn't you baby. You are everything to me. There's nothing wrong with you. It's me...I'm stupid and selfish and undeserving of a goddess like you. Please, please forgive me love. I'd do anything to gain your forgiveness. Please!"

You watched as he fell down to his knees in front of you but even the pitiful sight of him tearfully begging you couldn't erase the sight of him buried inside her; the one that made you feel like an outsider in your own relationship.

"There's nothing you could do to mend us back Mingyu. We're done."

Even as you cried, you could slowly feel the emotions inside you hollowing into nothingness, an apathy was starting to wrap around your brain, numbing your thoughts.

"No no no this can't be the end of us. Not like this baby....we...we are soulmates.. We're meant to be... We can't be without one another.... Please...I love you...I love you so much....."

His confession should've thawed your heart, broken the barriers of numbness that your brain was building, reminded you of the kisses you shared when you first confessed your love for each other and warmed your heart, instead it made you want to throw up in your mouth for these words didn't mean anything to you anymore.

"But not enough to refrain from jumping into bed with every other woman that you see."

His shoulders slumped with defeat as he realised he was fighting a losing battle because your mind was slowly pushing itself into nothingness. There really was no turning back.

You willed yourself to walk away from him and turned round the next corner, right in time to empty out the contents in your guts, till you were left dry heaving and sobbing. You wanted to control yourself till you were safely home, where no one can find you and embarrass you but it was too much. Everything was too much. Your head was throbbing, your chest was constructing, your muscles ached, your brain had stopped working and your thoughts were a jumbled mess. Too much! Someone needed to stop all this.

Someone held your hair up simultaneously rubbing your back, trying to provide you some comfort. Gosh you didn't want anyone to see like this, all vulnerable and pathetic, only to find it was your sibling.

"Johnny!"

Your brother brought you to his chest, making your head slump in weariness and you felt his arms tighten around you securely.

"Ssh! I'm here.

You closed your eyes, hoping to muster as much strength as your brother could provide.

"It's all over John. I'm done."

You were entranced in the shimmering gold sparkle that was Kim Mingyu that you forgot that in the end, all glitter turned into nothing but dust. You had foolishly wanted to bask in the shimmer but your ignorance only left you in the midst of the dusty pile of the dazzle that was once your life.

In honour of all the good times that you had with Mingyu, you couldn't say you wished to turn back time to change everything because selfishly, you wanted to turn back time and pause it when you were contentedly lying in Mingyu's arms, listening to him ranting passionately about his favourite football team on a rainy night.

You had been loved but more importantly, you had been in love and that was something you cherished. You only prayed to whatever God that heard you, that if Mingyu is who you're meant to find in every life, then you wanted to be with him on happier terms; and not to love him for a while and then live on without him. And if all you two are is soulmates in betrayal, then you could only hope, you didn't love him so deep that he takes everything from you and you're left with nothing but emptiness.

You wanted to meet him on a path which allowed you both to walk together, watching all sunsets for the rest of your lives.

That's all you want; till then you're content to be just a page of his story.

©stayinhellevator2024: Please don't repost, copy or translate my work on any platform.

Read On Wattpad

[needlereads]

Makes You Unsteady

Bucky Barnes x agent!Reader

Warnings: fem!reader; anxious Bucky; soft Bucky; not canon compliant at all

A/N: oh boy, first time posting a Bucky Barnes ff. I've been scribbling these little interactions of Bucky loving a SHIELD agent, and finally decided dammit I'm going to post them.

He paused at the end of the hall. This was stupid. You were asleep by this time. What had he planned on doing, knocking on your door and disturbing you? You probably wouldn’t appreciate that.

Before James could turn back towards the elevator, he heard a click and the motion sensing hall light around the corner came on. Peering past the corner, he was surprised to see the very woman who had been occupying his mind, very much not asleep as he had presumed. You leaned against your doorframe, loitering for a bit.

What were you doing up?

You finally turned, your steps would take you further from him. He knew Darren’s room was a couple of doors down from you.

Your name escaped his lips before he could think properly about the consequences. You turned, squinted at him with tired eyes.

“James?”

“Where you headed?” He strode towards you, as if it was normal to be making rounds in these private quarters.

You rubbed your eyes. As he drew closer he could tell you were growing more alert, though still adorably dazed from a lack of sleep.

“Oh, just over to Darren’s.” Your best friend was always the default destination when you didn’t want to be alone.

“Is something the matter?” He didn’t usually try to pry. But he couldn’t just stand still and let you walk away, couldn’t bear to watch you seek comfort in someone else when he was physically in your reach and ready to give comfort himself. Maybe he was tired out of his mind too, to disregard his usual inhibitions, let alone the chance of you asking him why he was wandering the building barely an hour after getting back from a mission.

“You just got back. You’re early.” Your eyes climbed down his body and up again. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m not.” Was it selfish that his heart glowed warmly to see you so concerned over his well-being? “Is something the matter? How come you’re up?” he asked gently again. Locks of bed-swept hair framed you face. His fingers twitched with the instinct to sweep them back and trace down you braid.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“I could sit with you.” God what was he saying? “If you want, that is.”

“Yeah.”

James held his breath as you replied.

“I’d like that,” you said.

In your room, you both settled on your two seater sofa.

“Has it been like this for a while? Not being able to fall asleep?”

You shrugged. “It’s not so bad. I had a nightmare,” said, almost amused. “I don’t usually dream vividly, but tonight…”

He waited, hoping he wasn’t invading your privacy.

“It was the plane crash. The one my parents were in.” You had not been there for it, but your mind conjured images for you anyway. “As if I had been there too, like I had made my mom give up the window seat and then snuggled up to her side. I…was such a baby with her.” A breathy laugh left you. “Can’t even have the decency to be traumatized by something I actually went through. Like the burning building, or the explosion at the compound.” You didn’t catch his frown.

James swung his legs up, sitting criss-cross to face you. “Can I share something?”

You nodded.

“Sometimes in my sleep I feel like I’m falling and I can’t stop. It creeps me out and I can’t wait to wake up and stop falling.”

“The train,” you whispered.

He nodded. “But worse than that, worse than the nightmares about shooting on command, or the war battles that I don’t remember…I dream about my mom and sisters being killed. My mind convincing me that Hydra found them and shot each of them in the street, or that they drowned, or that they just…stopped breathing in their sleep.” He shook his head. “None of those things happened but I wake up and I want to throw up. I want to go back in time and hunt every Hydra piece of shit and kill them a hundred times over. I want…”

You stopped him with a hand over his metal one. “Don’t. Please.”

He was about to say he wanted to not wake up from his sleep either, and he could tell you had somehow heard those thoughts. He was pathetic, to break in front of you. He had no right to manifest such darkness in front of you. But your pleading eyes left him more breathless than the shame.

“Please?”

Anything, he would do anything you asked.

-*-*-*-*

He woke alone in your bed. Lifting his head towards the door separating your bedroom from the living room, covered with a navy blue patterned cloth. He made out your voice and footsteps on the other side. He really couldn’t be blamed for being able to hear you talking on your cellphone, especially when his name was brought up.

“- totally forgot to text you and then James and I both fell asleep. I’m sorry. Don’t be mad?”

A tinny laugh reached his ears. If he strained a bit he could hear the person on the other end of the phone. Probably Darren.

“I’m not. Just glad you didn’t try to ride it out alone. I was wondering when Barnes would finally make his move.”

You sighed, glancing at the door to your bedroom and stepping away, lowering your voice just short of a whisper. “He wasn’t – there was no move.”

Your friend uttered your name, exasperated. This wasn’t the first time he teased you about being in denial of love knocking on your doorstep.

“Hon, you deserve to love and be loved.”

“It’s not that.” You hesitated.

“Then what?”

You tugged at your hair. “Just…for someone who’s had so much taken from him, and who’s given up so much. I can’t…can’t ask that of him. I can’t be another burden for him.”

Darren was not happy with you. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. First of all, that’s not what you are. Second of all, it’s his choice to want you. Just like it’s yours to want him. Don’t even try to deny it.”

“I’m not denying it,” you said firmly. “But that’s all. Just a want. I…I can’t.”

You heard your name and whipped around to find James standing in the middle of the living room. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your breaths measured.

“Darren, I’ll see you later.” You ended the call.

James felt each pulse of his blood in his veins as he tried processing what he’d heard. He knew his hearing couldn’t be mistaken. The way you looked at him, with a quiet honesty, urged hope to bloom inside his chest.

“James.” You paused, and he swore the world slowed on its axis. “I…”

“You want me?”

You felt helpless under his full attention. His eyes searched you, so vulnerable and earnest. You refused to lie to him.

“Yes.”

Despite what you said to Darren, now, oh, your single word of confirmation sounded so clear and sweet to him.

“You think you’re a burden to me?”

He had quietly closed the distance between you.

You lowered you gaze. “I’m trying not to become that to you.”

He dared to touch his finger to you chin, encouraging you to look at him.

“Let’s agree right now, that you won’t refer to yourself like that again.” His palm curved around your cheek. He wanted to touch every inch of you.

He held you through the night. Not sleeping, and not tired; just relishing in the contact of your skin on his, your warmth bleeding into his.

-*-*-*

[eldritch-spouse]

What if Vesper's queen was into Lacai as well? I'm maybe a bit too prideful or bashful to admit it if asked directly, but Lacai is just (chef's kiss). I might even get into trouble just to make Lacai correct me. Of course, this doesn't lessen the love or lust I'd have for Vesper, but I would certainly be sparing glances at the impcubus and be too embarrassed to admit it- that'd only make it worse, I'm into humiliation too- god. If Lacai wasn't into topping I'd even be entertained by walking him around on a leash while out with Vesper despite my preferences to be the one receiving. Lacai and Vesper together just do something to me. Idk.

[Idk if you meant romantically as well, but I'm assuming you did.]

The thing with Vesper is that, out of every Icon, he's the one more likely to accept polyamory. This only works, however, if he maintains a position of power in the dynamic. It certainly helps that you have your eyes set on someone so close to Vesper, his very own confidant and an imp he's been sexual with plenty of times in the past. This is easily accepted by Vesper.

Lacai swings with the flow, so to say. While some concubi will already have the intent to top or bottom, Lacai reads your first couple of reactions and decides what'll work best. So, if you turn away or stutter some sad excuse when mildly prodded about your unsubtle oogling, he'll definitely be more insistent and domineering. It definitely riles him up to have the Queen of Lust crawling for him, debased before a mere imp servant. Is it just that you already can't control yourself around your subjects or is little old Lacai your newest cunt-throb?

Vesper has little idea as to why you'd be timid about wanting to sleep with others. This is now your Kingdom, human inhibitions are worthless, because everyone wants you here. The King clearly understands that there is much tension between you and Lacai, but you don't act on it- And so it clicks, you have a little crush. Isn't that adorable? And kind of hot to him, frankly. Vesper thinks Lacai is worthy of sharing with, so he'll just start messing with you two now.

Vesper finds you eye-fucking the impcubus while he's tidying something in the room? Alright Lacai, undress now. No other orders, Vesper just has Lacai work naked for the rest of the day, watching you simmer with arousal quietly.

Lacai, help me bathe the Queen.

Lacai, prepare the Queen for tonight's games.

Lacai, entertain the Queen while I handle the visitors.

It just won't end.

If it takes you too long to squeal, he'll arrange things differently, targeting the impcubus rather than you. Because if you're still too shy -Oh, how cute- To admit your own desires, then he knows someone who isn't. The imp.

The King is a master at setting up the perfect scene, making things look "accidental", such as when you stumble on him torturously edging his head servant, as if Vesper's goal wasn't for you to witness it. Even if you're not brave enough to walk in and decide to loom by the edge of the doorframes like a true voyeur, the other two can feel you. Vesper's teasing taunts to his servant all revolve around you, debauched fantasies of you servicing Lacai, servicing them both. The toys he knows Lacai would enjoy using on you. Loudly exposing how much of a creep the imp is, that he watches you change, that he jerks off to the scent of your panties, that he wants to wake you up every morning with a cock stuffed in you to the hilt.

Finally, Vesper will rip a confession out of the imp and pretend that the already very evident information shocks him. Most importantly, he reacts positively. And that should give you more confidence, in the Icon's mind.

If not, and by then they're both quite frustrated with this game, both Vesper and Lacai will "bully" the truth out of you. There's no hiding any lust from the residents of the royal mansion, so they'll rejoice in flustering you half to death as they share all the moments they have caught you staring, all the times your fingers rubbed soothingly over your pussy from how soaked you were getting around the imp.

Say you love them, say you want them both, and the two will use you together, make your dirty little daydreams a reality.

[vampire-matcha]

Blood in the Wine-2

Chapter Two: Reflections

A/N: thanks so much for being patient with me getting this chapter written. Happy Valentine's Day! xoxo

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: blood mention, bruises, mild self harm (hot water), nudity mention, victim blaming (kinda), mild dubcon (compulsion) nothing too major in this chapter

Songs to listen to: Absinthe by iDKHOW and Social Climb by iDKHOW

MASTERLIST, CH1, CH3, CH4, CH5, CH6, CH7

---

You were drowning. Gaz's hands were simultaneously your only lifeline and the things dragging you down deeper. Price's eyes bore into you. You shivered, whether from his cold gaze, the loss of blood, or just the plain waves terror you felt ebbing deep below, you weren't sure. 

"Come on love," Gaz muttered in your ear. He began shuffling you forward, and you felt your feet stepping closer and closer to the couch, as if they were obeying Gaz rather than you. Maybe they were. 

Gaz placed you into Price's lap and you fell limply against his chest as he cradled you. You distantly thought of La Pietá. The savior of the world lying dead in his mother's arms. How small he was in comparison. What an unholy twist of Michelangelo's vision you were in. 

Price held you against him, pulling your legs closer, his hand behind your back sliding up to the base of your skull. His eyes, those pale, icy eyes drank you in, much like how you anticipated his teeth would be doing shortly. 

"Pretty little thing, isn't she?" He asked, mostly to himself. "You taste half as good as you look, I'm sure we can come to some sort of agreement, yeah?" He smiled at you, crow's feet crinkling in a comforting sort of way. You felt at ease here in his arms. You shouldn't have. "Just relax, sweetheart, this won't hurt a bit, promise."

He pulled you ever closer, resting your head on his shoulder as his mouth approached the soft curve of your neck. You felt his breath puff out against your skin, beard scratching the sensitive flesh, before you felt that all-too familiar double pinprick. He let out a soft grunt when the flavor of you hit his tongue, followed by a sharp intake of breath through his nose. His hand nestled at your skull snaked itself into your hair to pull you impossibly closer. 

Your eyes rolled back in your head, the dizziness taking over again. Muffled sounds. Your heart pounding away in your head like the bass drums at the club. The club felt half a world away now: a lifetime ago when you still believed in the goodness of man. You heard someone whimpering. Christ, was that you? You couldn't tell anymore, so focused on that same pleasure-pain in your neck as Price sucked away your inhibitions. 

He finally pried himself away, licking a hot, wide stripe up from your clavicle to your ear. "Like fucking candy," he breathed into you. You shivered again for the umpteenth time that night. He looked past you at the other two men who had fed off of you. "You weren't lying." The other two men chuckled. Then he turned to the dark corner behind you. You didn't have the strength to turn around to see what he was looking at. You weren't sure you wanted to know. 

"Your turn." Oh God please, no more. You didn't think you could take another one. You were so tired. Then you felt the couch dip behind you. You felt like you were in a dream, barely registering the broad chest that pressed up against your back. Price unwound himself from you, and another hand replaced his in your hair, much rougher than the last. It grabbed a fistful of your locks and jerked your head back. A startled sound jumped from your throat. Not quite a scream- almost a moan. 

"Shut up," growled the dark voice behind you. The disembodied voice from before, the one that had chastised Soap. Calloused hands gripped the neck of your shirt, tearing it wider. Your eyes found Gaz, silently pleading for help. He looked sympathetic, but made no move to help. He just watched. They all just watched. 

Then there were fangs in you again, digging into the meat of your shoulder opposite the side Price had drank from only moments ago. These teeth lacked any sort of gentleness or care the others had. He bit down hard and sucked harshly. You felt yourself sinking deeper and deeper underwater, the lights above you dimming as the fist in your hair dragged you under. You're dying. 

"Ghost, enough!" Someone shouted. The mouth was pulled off of you and you fell forward again into strong arms. You felt warmth trickling down your arm. The body holding you leant down to seal the wound with his tongue. Price, you remembered. You couldn't see him, and you barely registered that your eyes were closed. You couldn't seem to open them. 

You heard more shouting. The sharp edges of the cold voice raking down your spine. An argument you couldn't make out rumbled out from the chest beneath you. You felt yourself settle on the seafloor, sand and silt puffing up around you. It was so dark and so muddy, tendrils of seaweed tangling around your limbs, tying you down like a whalefall; a corpse to be fed on, giving life to creatures undeserving. Bottom feeders with monstrous appearances feeding on your past life. 

Hands shook you, a voice pleading to you to open your eyes. You struggled, but finally met those rich brown eyes you'd met a week prior. Kind eyes you had trusted so easily. Eyes so deep brown they looked red in the right lighting. Maybe they were red all along. Maybe you ignored that. Maybe you felt him bite a little too hard at the club, and maybe you still chose to follow him home. Maybe you could've fought harder. Maybe you knew these men were sharks, and maybe you didn't swim away. Maybe you knew they smelled your blood in the water, and maybe you didn't care. Maybe you liked it. 

But none of that mattered when you closed your eyes again and let the waves pass over you. 

—

Your whole body ached as you washed ashore. Your head was pounding. How much had you drank? It couldn't have been that much… You heard paper rustling behind you. You weren't alone. Who…? You weren't in your bed. At least you didn't think so. You don't remember buying silk sheets. The mattress was too soft. 

The world came back to you in throbbing beats hammering straight into your skull. Pounding the bone over and over. Pages flipping. Your arm was sore. A musty smell. An old house settling. Your neck was sore. Pages flipping. Your shoulder burned. Pages flipping. You weren't alone. 

You sat bolt upright. Everything from last night came back to you like a punch in the gut. Another page flipped and you looked over to your right to find Kyle lounging in an armchair across the room. He looked up from the book in his hands and met your eyes with an easy smile. 

"Good morning sunshine."

"Fuck you" you spat at him, pure venom dripping from your mouth. He quirked an eyebrow, amused. 

"How are you feeling?"

"Violated."

"Fair enough. Did you sleep well?"

"Go fuck yourself, Kyle." He was no longer amused. 

"You know, you should be grateful, I saved your fucking life." You seethed. 

"From who? Your fucking friends? The friends you let feed on me?"

"Don't be stupid, love," he condescended. "You think we're the only 'creatures of the night' in all of London? A city this big, this old? Use that pretty little head for something, please." Your head was spinning with a mix of rage and confusion. 

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I'm saying you're lucky it was me who found you. Others of my kind aren't so compassionate toward a pretty face. We've got a sense for vulnerability, and sweetheart, you had a target on your back the minute you stepped off the plane. Sooner or later you would've ended up dead in a gutter bled like a fucking pig. The least you could do is say thank you." 

His words had turned venomous toward you. So far was he now from the warm man you had met a week ago. Yet even through the caustic words he spat, you could see something more in his eyes. A facsimile of heartbreak. Like he had any right to be upset. 

"Right. Thank you so fucking much for kidnapping me and drinking my fucking blood!" You were downright incredulous. How dare he? 

The two of you stared seething at one another for what felt like an eternity, neither willing to yield. His red-brown eyes burned into yours, and yours burned right back. Finally, he broke the tense silence with a humorless huff. 

"You can sit here and pretend like you didn't want this, but we both know deep down you did. I know you-"

"You don't know shit about me."

"I know you well enough to know you aren't fucking stupid. You saw the signs, yeah? And you still followed me home. I mean come on! You were reading fucking Dracula when we met. You expect me to believe you didn't know what I am? That you didn't even suspect it?" You shook your head desperately. 

"I didn't ask for this!"

"Maybe not, but you got it anyway. You can lie to yourself all you want, but you can't lie to me, love."

"Don't call me that."

"Fine."

Once again the two of you sat in uncomfortable, charged silence. Neither of you was willing to break, to look away. Kyle studied you with furrowed brows trying to figure out his next move. He seemed to reach a conclusion and closed his eyes with a deep sigh. He reached down beside him and stood with a duffel bag. 

"Clean yourself up," he commanded, throwing the duffel at the foot of the bed you layed in. "Price wants to talk." And with that he turned and walked out of the room, closing the door a little too roughly. 

Finally alone, you fought off the tears pricking your eyes, choosing to take in your surroundings instead. This was definitely not the apartment you had been in before. You had slept in a four poster bed, which would've been cozy under different circumstances. The walls were plastered with a garish wallpaper, repeating paisley patterns assaulting your eyes and worsening your headache the more you looked at it; so instead you averted your eyes to the window. Yellow-orange light shone in through the curtains. The sun was setting. How long had you been unconscious? Finally your eyes came to another door left ajar: the restroom. Clean yourself up. 

You reached for the duffel, tearing the zipper open to see your own clothing and toiletries thrown haphazardly inside. They'd broken into your apartment? You never even told Gaz… Kyle where you lived. You sat in awe as realization struck that Kyle had been watching you, stalking you. Staking you out like prey; which,evidently, you were. 

You looked down at yourself. You were still dressed in the outfit from the night before, although the collar of your shirt had been torn to immodest shreds. Other than the quickly-fading bruises left from the bites, you could find no evidence that those cruel men had done any further harm to you. 

You looked closer at the bite on your wrist, fingers delicately brushing over it to find the skin slightly numbed and the holes closed, now more closely resembling bug bites than an open wound. The bites on your neck felt much the same; however the bite on your shoulder- the one left by Ghost, as the others had called him- must have gone much deeper. The pain went all the way into your muscle, and it hurt to move your arm. You could see through your shirt's tattered neckline that the bruise was much darker than the rest. A shiver ran down your spine. He would've killed you. 

You shook off the dread that was beginning to overtake you and hurried to the bathroom with the duffel before you could start hyperventilating. You locked the door behind you, convincing yourself that it would somehow stop the unnaturally strong creatures from breaking in. You rested your forehead against the door for a moment to catch your breath before turning around. 

There was a clawfoot tub in the middle of the room and towels lain out on the countertop next to the sink. You began drawing a bath, glancing at the door behind you every so often. The rational side of you knew that they'd already had every opportunity to hurt you any way they wanted, and they hadn't. You knew in your mind you were safe there in the bathroom, that they wouldn't touch you, at least not like that. But you couldn't shake the deep unease that had settled in your gut. You couldn't help hesitating before you undressed, silently expecting the door to burst open and a monster to spring forth fangs-first. 

But it didn't. As you stood naked before the full tub, the only sound that echoed in the tiled room was the steady drip-drip-drip of the leaky faucet. You were safe- for now. 

You sank into the burning hot water. You'd turned the temperature as high as it could go. You needed it hot to ground you. You felt like your whole world was collapsing around you and the only safe place you had was this tub. You needed to feel your skin burn to cleanse it of the mouths of those men. The heat would sanitize your wounds. You scrubbed at the bites, scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed until your skin was raw. And then you scrubbed more. 

You stayed in the tub until the water was freezing. You shivered with chattering teeth, not wanting to leave the security of the tub. You stayed until you could no longer bear the cold. Finally, you pulled the plug in the drain and stepped out, wrapping yourself in one of the dark towels and dug through the duffel for your clothes. You pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, a fair amount of holes in each. You could tell they hadn't put any thought into what they'd grabbed, everything was shoved in unfolded, a pile of your underwear stuffed in at the very bottom. 

Now dressed, you took your appearance in as you gazed into the mirror. Your eyes were bloodshot, your shoulders hunched, one of them blotched with shades of purple and green. You could barely recognize yourself. Sure, you had the same dyed hair, the piercings, and of course those were your clothes hanging off your frame. But there was something in your eyes that was different. There was an understanding of some new forbidden knowledge. You had seen the underbelly of this world, and it had looked right back at you, grinning with sharp teeth. 

Part of you was still holding out hope that maybe this was all a dream. Maybe you would wake up in a cold sweat, but ultimately unharmed. The bruises would be gone, you'd still have that light in your eyes. You couldn't stand to look at yourself anymore. You turned away from the mirror. 

You stood at the door for five whole minutes, hand hovering on the lock but reluctant to turn it. Once you did, you'd have to step back out into this fantastical nightmare of hellishly handsome men who wished to feed on you. 

You opened the door. 

The room was empty. You could see through the curtains that night had fallen in the duration of your bath. The only light in the room came from a small bedside lamp. You didn't remember turning it on. You looked to the bed next, seeing that the sheets had been made. They were in your room and you hadn't even heard them. Your stomach tightened at the revelation, but before you could dwell on it any further, a knock sounded at the bedroom door. 

You debated not answering it. Didn't vampires need to be welcomed in? Another knock, this one more insistent. Then another beat of silence. 

"If you don't open the door, I'm coming in," came Kyle's voice from the other side. And so you found yourself turning the handle. As long as you were the one opening the door, maybe you could keep up the illusion of having some sort of control on this situation. 

Kyle was waiting, leaning against the opposite wall. He gave you a once-over as you peeked through the crack. You suddenly felt self-conscious. All wet hair and sunken eyes, wearing that old baggy ska band tee you'd thrifted years back; you were a far cry from the woman he'd seen before, all done up pretty just for him. You shook the thought from your mind. Why should you care what Kyle thinks of you? He's a monster. 

"Took you long enough," he muttered under his breath, unamused. You frowned, about to mouth off a rebuttal, but he pushed off the wall and started down the hallway. "Come on, Price is waiting." Clearly he expected you to follow. You didn't want to think about the consequences of staying put, so, ever so hesitantly, you followed behind, leaving a good distance between the two of you. 

He led you through the house, all wood paneling and crown molding, to a large oak door. You could hear the Scottish voice of Soap ringing out like a church bell, and below it crackled a fire. Gaz opened the door and motioned with a nod of his head for you to enter. You glanced at him, searching for any hint of pity in his eyes, but they wouldn't meet yours. Instead he stared at the wall behind you. Whether he was avoiding your gaze due to guilt or pure disinterest, you couldn't tell. You walked through the door. 

Immediately upon entering, Soap stopped his blabbering, turning his energy toward you instead. 

"There's our girl!" He shouted, arms extended as he barreled toward you. On instinct, you shuffled back quickly, only to feel Kyle's hand at your back, keeping you from retreating back into the hallway. Thankfully, Soap stopped short of wrapping his trunk-like arms around you, his smile faltering. "Not much of a hugger, eh? That's alright, we'll get there." He backed away, allowing you to fully enter the room. 

It was a lounge or study of some sort. Plush, dark velour couches and chairs were arranged in a semicircle, end tables dispersed between them, all facing the fireplace in the wall. And there next to it, sitting in a high-backed armchair and smoking a cigar, was Price. 

"Have a seat," he commanded. You stood where you were, too uneasy to move, and still holding onto your stubbornness. "Now," he insisted. You obeyed, sitting on the couch in the middle of the room. Soap sat next to you, but still left a cushion between you. Kyle stayed standing at the door. "How are you feeling?" Price asked. You heard Kyle scoff behind you. 

"Like someone drank my blood," you spat. You were already so done with this. 

"Right…" he trailed off, trying to find the right words. "I believe we owe you an apology." You stayed silent. "Ghost took it a bit too far the other night, and I do sincerely apologize on his behalf." The other night?

"He almost killed me."

"Yes."

"You were planning on killing me."

"Yes."

"So what the hell am I still doing here?"

"Yes, about that. We need to discuss the conditions of your stay with us-"

"You can't keep me here!"

"We can and we will. Do not interrupt me again, little girl." His words stung. "Now listen. You will stay here, living as our familiar. We will take care of you, and in exchange you will allow us to feed on you." This couldn't be happening. "Any accommodations you'd like will be met within reason. You may roam freely throughout the house during daylight hours. Come nightfall, you will return to your bedroom. You will not leave your bedroom until sunrise. Understand?" You stared blankly at him. No, you didn't understand. How could this be happening? 

"As for the feeding arrangement: one full feeding can usually sustain us for about three to four weeks. However, we are aiming not to drain you," he teased, the corners of his mouth quirking up in a friendly smile. "So, we'll be feeding on a weekly basis. We'll each take turns, give you time to recover. Ghost's time with you will be supervised to avoid another… incident." 

He kept talking about the four of them draining your blood so nonchalantly, as if you were businessmen in a boardroom discussing finances, and not a pack of monsters and their kidnapped victim. Price opened his mouth to continue, but you cut him off before he could speak. 

"People will look for me! You can't just keep me prisoner!" You were grasping at straws, trying to keep your hold on reality as your world came crashing down. A flash of irritation crossed over Price's face, and he shifted in his seat to dig something out of his pocket. You'd interrupted again and he was not pleased. 

"Do you know how long you were unconscious, dear?" You froze. 

"What… what do you mean?"

"Sweetheart, you've been asleep for three days." What? You felt your stomach drop. "And do you know how many people have been looking for you in those three days? Let's check." He held up what he'd retrieved from his pocket: your phone. "Two text messages and three missed calls. One call from Jerrie. Then a text from Camille that reads: 'where the hell are you? Jerrie is about to flip his shit.' Missed call from Camille. Text from Camille: you better get here soon, I'm supposed to have a date with David tonight, I can't cover for you.' Then finally a missed call from Jerrie. Left a voicemail. You're fired. Sorry about that." 

He didn't sound sorry at all. In fact, it seemed like he got some sick sadistic satisfaction from watching your hope crumble with every message he read out to you.

"No… No, you broke into my apartment, the police will-"

"We used your key, darling. As far as anyone's concerned, your boyfriend was just stopping by to get some things for you. That is- if anybody even cared enough to notice." 

"No… my… my family-"

"According to your call logs, you haven't spoken to your mother in… six weeks? Yeah just about." That stung. That burned. You hadn't been on great terms with your family, especially your mother, for quite some time- even before you left the country. And for this stranger, this beast to throw that in your face? Your eyes were watering, bitter tears falling from your cheeks as reality finally, finally set in. Price set your phone down and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and stared into your eyes. You felt frozen to your core. 

"No one is coming to save you. You're alone, sweetheart. We're all you have left. Now, if you want to fight and sulk and act like a prisoner, by all means, try your best- you're not getting out. So you might as well make the most of it." You should be panicking, hyperventilating, screaming and tearing out your hair. But you just sat there numb, staring off into space as your worst fears were realized. You had been alone all along. You weren't getting out. Yet there was still a part of you that wanted to fight. 

"What if I say no?" You said in a voice too small. Price chuckled. 

"We both know that's not an option, love. So are we going to do this the easy way, or the hard way?" You weren't going to fight your way out of this. Maybe if you bided your time, you could figure something out. You steeled your nerves and felt yourself nodding your head. Price leaned back with a satisfied smile. 

"Attagirl!" Cheered Soap next to you. You jumped. You had forgotten he was there. 

"The deal is struck," Price proudly announced. "I promise you, as our familiar, no harm will come to you, apart from the necessary bites. You have my word, my men won't lay a finger on you… unless you'd like them to," he added with a cheeky smirk. Your stomach tightened. "We'll talk more about accommodations tomorrow, you ought to be going to bed." He turned to the man sitting next to you. "Soap, would you kindly escort our lady back to her room?" 

"Yes, sir," he answered, standing up and holding a hand out to you. He had a kind, lopsided grin on his face. He was clearly excited about his new pet. "Come on, lass, it's bedtime." You took his hand, and he led you back out of the lounge. You passed by Kyle at the doorway. He still wouldn't look at you. 

Soap kept your hand in his the whole way back to your room, blabbering all the way.

"You don' have to be afraid, lass. Price keeps his word; you're safe inside these walls. The bond between familiar and master is sacred." He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. You barely felt it through the fog in your mind. "Christ, I've been wanting a familiar for so long, never thought Price would let us keep one. But here you are, and a right pretty one a' that! We'll have so much fun together, once you warm up to us. It'll be alright." You had barely processed his ramblings when you finally reached the door to your bedroom. 

"Well, here we are." He opened the door for you, and you walked in, still feeling numb. You heard the door latch behind you and when you turned around to look, you realized Soap had followed you in. He grinned at you. 

"Dinnertime."

Tags: @cherry-slushee @iimfae @newcomernewcums @cowboybxtch @quiurifam @sad--pigeon @desert-fern @grizzers @the-wandering-pan-ace @quiurifam @wasteland-babe @obi-wansorrow

Comment or message to be tagged. Ask box is open, I love making friends!!!

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Best and Worst of Both Worlds (part 11)

Tw: reader got sick again lol this time to the ER, mentions of violence, kidnapping sequence, queerphobia from Monty

Damn guys i was expecting the other options to win but most of u guys wanted back to the university??

Vote down below guys, will start making the next chapter after 20 votes

Part 12

You decided to head to your university. They don't skimp on their snack budget, hence they provide the best snacks. You took the medicine that Yves paid for you before leaving the house.

Halfway through the bus ride though, you're starting to regret your choice. Your head and shoulders became extremely heavy and you feel like crap.

But it's too late to turn back now. The next bus is in an hour.

You stumbled out of the bus and rubbed your eyes. Yawning and scratching your back.

Bleary eyed, you started walking away from the station. Feeling like you're forgetting something, but you shrug it off. Thinking it should be in your bag.

Except, you didn't have your bag.

You gasped when you realized that you're not carrying anything behind you. But then relief washed over you when you realized that it's at home and not on the bus that's disappearing on the horizon. Then, that also means you left the door unlocked.

You sighed, sticking your hand in your pocket, planning to tell your housemates about it.

You pulled out a rectangular device and tried unlocking the screen.

Except there was no screen. Because it's not a smartphone, it's a power Bank.

That's right, Yves gave you his power bank to use indefinitely. You were charging it right next to your phone... what is wrong with you?

You groan, oh this is bad.

It's the 21st century, memorizing phone numbers is not the trend, you don't know what number to call aside from emergency services or your own. Maybe you remembered the numbers of your parents, but they're in another country. What could they do?

You took a deep breath. This is fine, you're in the university not some sketchy alleyway. You know the schedule of the next bus and if there's an emergency, you could just use a payphone to dial 911.

You have some cash on you and that's fine. You'll live, it's enough to pay for your bus fare.

So you walked, in a zombie-like way. You should have just rotted in bed, scrolling through your social media and burning your phone credits. But no, you just had to leave the house.

At least the weather is cool and the air is fresh. You continued walking, finally reaching past the entrance.

Everything feels severely foggy. You couldn't think straight, there were a couple times where you would stand in front of a potted plant and stare at it for minutes. Then you would snap yourself out of it and walk away. God knows what medication it was, you just took it as per the pharmacist's instructions. You're sure it's playing a part in your current incapable state.

You rubbed your eyes and whined. Pacing around, finding a hard time to figure out what to do. Your head hurts and your entire body isn't cooperating with what your brain is signalling. Your brain isn't even working with you.

What did you just eat? Did you accidentally poison yourself with the wrong pills?

Through your bleary eyes, you spotted a tall figure jogging up to you. But your lowered inhibitions prevented you from feeling alarmed, you just want to rest at home.

"Hey, hey, stop that." You felt someone gently grabbing your wrists, stopping you from rubbing your now red eyes. "Are you alright?"

It's Montgomery. He's kneeling to your level and staring deep into your eyes, his massive hands holding your head in place as he inspect you.

"What's up with you?" He asked, you're still processing what, or who, you're looking at.

"Damn, what did he do to you? You're all drugged up!" He scrambled to get back up on his feet. "C'mon, sweetheart. Let's get you to a doctor."

Confused and afraid, you tried protesting but Montgomery ended up carrying you bridal-style. You tried screaming for help, but he hushed you.

"Shh... it's okay, it's okay. I'm not gonna drop ya'. You're as light as a feather!" He cooed. "I got ya', you don't have to worry 'bout a thing, I'll take care of you, I'll save ya' from that bastard."

He stuffed you into his back seat, laying you down on your back. You shrieked when he climbed atop and straddled your hips, but he's only doing that to fluff the pillow under your head. The man got off and tucked you under his blanket, he then secured you with both seatbelts so you wouldn't roll off when he drives.

"Bend your knees for me, darlin'. I can't shut the door with your legs juttin' out!"

You refused and kept screaming, hoping that someone could help you. Which made Montgomery uncomfortable, not because he thinks you're scared of him, because he thinks you're in pain.

"Shh... I know, I know. I'll make it all better. I promise, you just have to hold out for a little longer, okay?" He gripped onto your calves and pushed them into the car. Immediately after, he shut the car door and dashed to the driver's seat.

You tried unbuckling yourself and unlocking the door, but you're at a severe disadvantage since you're still severely disorientated. You gave up when the car started speeding away from the venue.

Through your haziness, you managed to ask why he's in the university.

"I was hopin' to find ya', and I did. You're lucky I spotted you before some other creeps did! They'd snatch you right up and you couldn't fight back 'cause you're all doped up!"

It's unbelievable that he didn't realize that he was describing himself.

You asked how he knew to find you at six in the morning.

"Well, I remember when I had to go to school. I had classes at 7AM, my folks came an hour early while I came an hour late. 'Cause I was helping out with the farm. I don't reckon you have a farm to help out on. Do ya?" Such solid reasoning comes from the maniac himself.

You asked him what happened yesterday after he was escorted out, not realizing that he would take your curiosity as a concern for his wellbeing, and hence another declaration of your love.

"Aww is someone worried about me? I'm fine, that fucking queer roughed me up a lil'. But he played dirty, bet that asshole won't have the balls to get in a fair fight with me. Bless your heart for witnessing all the ugly. But I'm here now, I'll keep you safe from that monster. What did he do to ya'?"

You wanted to tell him that Yves is your boyfriend and Montgomery is the monster in your eyes. But immediately zipped your mouth closed because you're unsure as to how he is going to react to that, you can't take him on normally, let alone sick and potentially drugged.

"Sweetheart?" He glanced at you through his rearview mirror. You tried speaking, but you found that your tongue was too swollen for you to say anything. Drool dribbled down your chin as you found it increasingly harder to breathe.

"What the fuck..." He muttered under his breath before switching up his tone to calm you down. "I-it's fine! It's gonna be okay, baby. Just... think of the Lord. He'll get us through this!" You heard the whirring of his engine grow louder as he floored the gas pedal.

You wish Yves is here. He would have known what to do.

__

You took the biggest gasp of your life, greedily sucking in the air as it rushes into your lungs. You winced as the searing light stabbed your strained eyes, and sounds of people chattering, beeping, and rushing reached your ears. Coldness nipped at your skin and you felt something attached to your face. The air smelled of iodoform, and you coughed and hacked as everything was overwhelming you.

Finally, you managed to focus and process where you are.

"Mx Joe?"

Who?

"Mx Joe, can you hear me?" You turned your head to the side, the pillow slightly blocking your view. You saw a woman in scrubs and a pair of gloves, next to her were other nurses rushing the code cart to other patients in the room.

You looked at the rubber oxygen mask strapped to your face. Your thigh felt sore and tender, and then you realized why when you saw another nurse nearby holding an empty syringe.

The woman began introducing herself as a medical resident, you didn't pay attention when she told you her name. Soon after, she began explaining how you got here.

She said that your partner brought you in; unconscious, swollen as if you were stung by an army of bees and unable to breathe. You had an allergic reaction to something you consumed, inhaled, or touched. She asked if you ate anything you suspected could be the culprit a few hours ago.

The pill. You must be allergic to the medication.

You and she went back and forth, answering all the relevant questions she asked you. This time you told her your real name and true details. All she did was note it down in her clipboard without asking further questions as to why Montgomery gave her a fake name.

She did a couple more tests to make sure you didn't suffer from other complications. Once she deemed you healthy enough, she sent you on your way to be discharged, the ER is too busy for you to linger there any longer than necessary.

Another nurse wheelchaired you out of the Emergency department and into the waiting room, where Montgomery was there nervously fiddling with his hands while waiting for you.

"Joe!" He exclaimed before running towards you. "God, I was so damn worried! What the hell happened to them?" Montgomery asked the nurse, his hands squished your face into a compressed chunk.

You were reminded once again, Yves's soft touches are superior.

"They had an allergic reaction to a drug prescribed to treat their nausea. They're fine." The nurse turned to you. "Get some rest and drink enough fluids. You're going to feel tired, but that is to be expected. Any questions?"

You looked at Montgomery and he stared at you back.

You were contemplating whether you should scream for help. But... if it wasn't for him, you would be dead. If the police are involved, he will surely go to jail this time. And, you don't exactly feel comfortable ruining his life after he saved yours.

He's mentally deranged, but so far you think he wouldn't cause too much harm to you.

You slowly shook your head and prayed that you wouldn't regret your decision to not snitch on him.

"Alright. That will be all." The nurse told Montgomery the directions to the payment counters.

He began pushing you in your wheelchair with him.

"What a week, huh?" He tried to lighten the mood, but you're as somber as ever. Badly yearning for your phone and Yves's wallet, this is going to be a death sentence for your wallet.

You're dreading your turn. This is not going to end well for you, you can't call anyone aside from your parents who are on another continent. You wished that you memorized Yves's number.

When your name is called, Montgomery didn't react. It was called the second time, and you hesitantly brought your hands to the wheels. He grabbed your wrist.

"Hey, whatcha' doing?"

The receptionist called your name again. You sighed, coming clean that your name isn't Joe M. To your surprise, he wasn't shocked or upset, all he did was stand up and walk towards the counter.

You stretched your neck, trying to gain vantage over the sea of sick people. Montgomery took out a tattered, leather wallet from the back pocket of his work pants. You saw his eye widen momentarily and he seemed to be arguing with the receptionist about something. In the end, he swiped his slightly chipped debit card on the machine. He looked uneasy as he keyed in his PIN number on the card reader.

He collected the receipt before stuffing it into his wallet. Montgomery walked back with a bittersweet smile.

You asked him how much it was.

"Don't worry about it, honey. I'm just glad yer' fine."

You said that he didn't have to pay for you. You could do it yourself.

"Oh yeah? You and with what money? You shouldn't be thinkin' 'bout money troubles at this age. You should be focusin' on gettin' that degree!" He laughed, ruffling your hair. "Any respectable boyfriend would pay for his partner's bills!"

You told him that he isn't your boyfriend.

"Sure, sweetheart." He dismissed you as he grabbed the handles of your wheelchair. You stopped him and said you could walk. Before he could react to that, you used all your might to stand up, mildly stumbling around a bit before finding your balance. He stuck his arms around you, ready to catch if you were to fall.

"Y'know, you shouldn't push yourself too hard. I'm pretty sure the hospital is gonna let us borrow this till' the exit." You began walking away. More like limping.

"H-hey! Wait up!" He jogged to catch up with you.

He wrapped his arm around your waist and urged you in another direction.

"I parked this way, c'mon." He rested his hand on the small of your back. It's a little too far down for comfort and you didn't like how he would rub you.

__

His idea of "sick people's food" is something people eat to get sick.

But you're starving at this point, so you're scarfing down an English muffin breakfast sandwich. Letting the grease coat your fingers and the yolk covers your face, it's a messy ordeal.

"I gotta bring you out to eat more..." Mumbled Montgomery as he watched you devour two of the same sandwiches. He developed a newfound distaste for Yves on top of his strong, existing ones. Montgomery is disgusted that Yves didn't even have the decency to feed "his love". What kind of man let's his beloved starve like this? Definitely not Montgomery.

He only got three bites in and you're now stealing his hash browns. You don't know where you are, this was the first time visiting the hospital. All you know is that he's currently parked in a fast food joint's free parking lot.

It's a seven-minute drive from the hospital. You looked at the built-in clock on his radio.

10:59AM. You have an hour left to get home before Yves arrives and potentially causes a catastrophe.

"So... (name)." You watched him from the corner of your eyes. "What was up with Joe M.?"

You gulped. You said it was an inside joke.

"Well, what is it?" You told him it would ruin the joke.

"Keep your secrets then." He took another bite out of his meal.

You and he ate in silence, mostly him. You were somewhat noisy because you didn't bother closing your mouth when chewing.

"Relax, it's not gonna run away." He chuckled as you stuffed your face with more of the sandwich. Montgomery bought 6 in total, expecting to eat 4 of them. But in reality, he only got to eat 2.

"Y'know, you don't have to do all that for money." You looked at him, waiting for him to elaborate on what he meant.

"I know those wealthy bastards, they go after pretty young things like you and suck your youth from ya' like vampires. It ain't worth it."

You forced a giant chunk of unchewed food down your throat.

"H-hey don't do that! You're gonna choke!" He patted your back as you coughed.

You asked in between hacks if he's talking about Yves.

"Is that what his name is? But yeah, I'm talkin' about him."

You asked him if he thinks you're prostituting yourself.

"No! I- I mean- I don't know, I was thinkin' more of the sugar baby line of work. It ain't necessarily mean you gotta be bumpin' uglies in the bedroom- you don't seem like the type. But I sure do know he ain't got ya best interests at heart." He explained.

You brought your arm up to wipe your mouth with your sleeve. But This time, he was prepared. He held your arm and pushed a napkin to your chin. He took the liberty to clean your face up for you.

You definitely preferred Yves's gentle touch over Montgomery's brutish ones.

"He ain't good for you, (name). Trust me on this." You tried to pull away from his rigorous wiping, but he held your head in place with the other hand.

"Folks from back home were deceived by men like these. They come to the city lookin' to build a better future. Then a wealthy man came along, makin' promises that he can't keep in exchange for their souls." He released you, taking the dirtied tissue with him. Montgomery placed it on his dashboard, planning to dispose of it later.

"...and guess what, those men left them high and dry. They lost their money, their body and their minds. Now, my folks aren't city dwellers, we're from the countryside, they didn't know any better. I know you ain't from here too."

You asked Montgomery what made him think that way.

"You have a heart of gold and hands of sand. Folks born and raised here are damn sadists with a pair of soft hands. Ain't none of them picked a field rake up before."

You said don't think you picked up a field rake in your life either.

"That ain't the point, I'm sayin' you don't blend in with the rest of these fuckin' pricks. And you're attractin' trouble like this Sugar Daddy of yours."

There is no point in trying to correct him. You just nodded in acknowledgement.

He held both of your hands in his, enveloping them tightly into a ball. It hurts a bit.

"Please, darlin'. I beg of you, stay away from him. He's gonna break your heart and I sure hell don't want to see my baby in tears. I will treat you right, be with me and you ain't gotta worry 'bout a thing. I'm gonna feed you, drive you around and buy you stuff you always wanted." He pressed your hands against his cheek, with Montgomery's stubble scratching your palm.

"Please? Could you stop seeing him for me, please, sweetheart? I'll treat you so much better than that monster. I will take care of you." He crooned, placing a kiss or two on your hands. You grimaced when you felt the wetness of his saliva on your skin.

He is insane. You looked around for a possible opportunity to escape, but there isn't any.

You glanced at the clock.

It says 11:29AM.

Montgomery realizes what you're looking at and connected the pieces. He lets go of your hands and begins tidying up around him

"You have class, don'tcha'? I'll get you back to school. But... I think ya' oughta' listen to the doctor and rest at home. You were damn near seeing the pearly gates today." He buckled his seat belt and reignited his engine.

You wince as you hear the car roar back to life.

You thought about the different possible scenarios that could happen. You're thankful that he didn't realize it's your semester break now.

[captain-mj]

Would you be interested in writing about Simon being hit by a love potion / chemical that makes him not inhibited and he is so openly in love and affectionate with Johnny and Johnny doesn’t believe it and of course he has feelings for Ghost but Ghost is clearly compromised (his feelings are real) by the chemical and Soap doesn’t want to take advantage of him? 😩😩😩

Oh? Someone being afraid of taking advantage of someone and being overly respectful of their boundaries? I love it thank you

Soap watched the dart slam into Ghost. It was from some sort of sniper rifle clearly, even though it was clearly just a dart.

He panicked, of course, expecting it to be poisoned.

Price went after the person while Soap tried to see if Ghost was going to drop dead.

Ghost did not drop dead, of course. He hummed instead.

"How do you feel?" Soap had forced him to the ground, a little surprised that he had been able to do that.

"You're gorgeous." Ghost said softly, staring up at him. His eyes were a bit wider and softer, the perfect puppy dog eyes.

Soap paused and stared at him. "What?"

"You're gorgeous." Ghost repeated. "I love your eyes. They're so blue." He sounded wistful.

"Uh... Maybe... don't talk..."

Ghost continued staring up at him with his puppy dog eyes. They were... so big and so soft and Soap had to look away before he did something they'd both regret later.

Clearly, they had dosed him with an aphrodisiac of some kind. While yes, Ghost may not be showing the typical symptoms, it made the most sense. If he felt very turned on, he may act flirty.

"Do you feel hot?"

"My face does but I think that's because I'm blushing."

"Why are you blushing?" Okay, that was helpful. If he had a flush that imply fever and he was sure the medics would

"I always blush around you." Ghost interrupted his thoughts.

"I said don't talk."

"You asked a question." Ghost protested and moved, spreading his legs and stretching a bit. Soap looked away immediately, a habit he had a feeling would be forming.

Price came over the comms, telling him he had the guy. He hadn't killed him, but before Soap could even protest, he answered the unspoken question. "We need him alive so he can tell us what he gave Ghost."

Soap grumbled, but conceded. He glanced at Ghost to see him looking straight at him, almost hungrily. Desperate for Soap's attention.

"Stop looking at me like that."

"So I can't talk or look at you?"

"Exactly."

"I'm your lieutenant, shouldn't I be giving you orders?" Ghost said softly, head tilting back. "I feel so hot."

Soap looked at him, worry for his health fighting with worry of doing something... untoward to him. To Simon. He had read Ghost's files. Knew that there was things that happened to him in the past if Soap ever.... ever was looped in with those things. Those people.

Fuck Ghost's forgiveness, Soap would never forgive himself.

"Let's walk to evac and you can get out of your gear."

Ghost looked up at him, head no longer tilting but instead lolling back. He straightened before Soap could ask and he stood up. Soap went to walk beside him but Ghost grabbed him, leaning weight on to him. It made Soap's heart skitter in his chest. His nerves were bad. Too bad. He couldn't...

"Let's get your feet under you, Simon." Soap stood up a bit straighter and tried to help him. Ghost stumbled but managed. "What are you feeling?"

"Dizzy. Lightheaded. Butterflies."

"Butterflies?" Soap frowned and looked up. Their eyes met and they were so close. Ghost's were half closed but stared into him.

"In my stomach. I feel like a little kid. You remind me of the football player at my high school."

Soap couldn't get a word out.

"I lost my virginity to that guy. He was awful in bed. I bet you'd be better." Ghost leaned forward as if to kiss him.

Soap quickly turned his head and hurried them along, ignoring that Ghost's feet stumbled.

He needed to get him to Price.

What if Ghost acted like this with Price?

What if he acted like this with everyone??

Price, himself and Gaz would never judge Ghost for what happened while he was drugged, but if he acted this way in front of the others, Soap wasn't sure they wouldn't. Ghost may not be quite scary enough to ward that off.

They got to evac and Price joined them. Ghost looked at him and just... nodded before moving to look at Soap again.

Thank God.

"You okay, son?"

"I'm fine." Ghost leaned into Soap, arm going around him. He pulled him closer and Soap winced. "My gear."

"You can take it off now. Doubt you'll need it in the air."

"Help me take it off?"

Price wheezed. "Yeah, you can handle that Soap." He started to walk away.

"Wait! Captain! Captain!" Soap whispered desperately but Price was already gone. "Alright... let me help you." He turned around and started to gently unbuckle Ghost's tac vest and slid it off him.

Ghost let out a sigh of relief as the weight left him. He stretched and then took off his helmet, relaxing into Soap again.

Soap couldn't do this! Ghost wasn't in his right mind! He tried to gently push him away and Ghost adjusted, nuzzling into his neck. The cold feeling of his mask pressed right against him.

"Simon, come on."

"You smell nice. Do you wear cologne?" Ghost took a deep breath, hands on Soap's hip to keep him close.

"No." Soap wheezed, looking away.

"You're gorgeous, Johnny. Has anyone told you that recently?"

"Yes. You. Ten minutes ago."

"..........well you deserved to hear it again." Ghost nuzzled into him. "You're warm too. So warm."

"Weren't you just complaining about being hot?" Soap finally managed to get some space between them.

Ghost looked at him and Soap swore his pupils were in the shape of hearts. "Feels okay when it's you."

Our father who art in heaven. Hallowed be thy name.

Soap felt so flustered. "Simon. You're not..."

"I've loved you so long."

THY KINGDOM COME

"Ghost, you're not in your right mind."

"I just didn't know how to tell you. I didn't think you'd like me back."

Oh dear God.

Soap put his hand over his mouth. "You... You don't mean that. This... poison will wear off and I won't bring this up, okay? I don't..."

Ghost watched him before moving Soap's hand away and slipped off his mask. He leaned forward and kissed him and Soap froze.

How many times had he thought of kissing Ghost?

Ghost tasted like smoke. Not cigarette smoke or the smoke from explosions. Smoke from campfires. Something sweet underneath it. Soap didn't kiss back. He couldn't.

Ghost pulled back, so soft. Unbearably soft. Soap let himself look at him. Scarred and broken, but still Ghost.

"Johnny."

Soap swallowed. "Simon."

"Do you not love me back?" Simon's giant doe like eyes staring at him. Staring into him.

"You're not... I can't... Listen, what if we talk when you come down?"

Ghost shook his head slowly but he moved closer. He put his head on Soap's shoulder and wrapped his arms around him. Soap slowly hugged him back and patted his back.

Ghost ended up falling asleep which was very unusual and Soap made sure to slip his mask back on him.

Price helped Soap get him to medical and they quickly checked his vitals. Next, they put him on an iv just in case.

Soap stayed with him. He couldn't let him be in the hospital alone.

Ghost just... kept staring at him. Giant eyes.

They ended up holding hands. Ghost looked very happy about it. Soap felt flustered.

It was a gradual change. Ghost straightened a bit more. He fixed his mask. He grew agitated and complained about being in the hospital.

Their hands stayed linked.

"Fucking embarrassing." Ghost mumbled.

Soap laughed.

"Meant it though."

Soap stopped laughing. "What?"

"I do love you. Johnny MacTavish."

"You're probably still..."

They made eye contact.

"Oh..."

Ghost blinked at him slowly.

"I love you too Simon Riley."

[teyums]

could you do a ‘being worried when the other comes home late’ modern au with ao’nung, please? i love worried ao’nung 🥺

nooo i love worried ao’nung, so underrated bc i feel like nobody writes it! i def see him as snarky, but i don’t think he’s just super mean all the time 😭 here ya go anon <3 wc: 1,652

Modern Au Prompt #3 w/Ao’nung

pairing: human!Ao’nung x fem!reader

warnings: none

A hiccup rumbles your chest as you carefully pace your way to the door of your apartment, drunkenly giggling at yourself when you realize just how long its taken you to make it down the hallway without tripping over your own two feet.

The fuzzy, pink puffball you have on your keychain keeps getting in the way as you shuffle your keys to try and find the right one, and you quietly groan in annoyance because all you want to do is get inside, and you really have to pee. Your vision is slightly hazy, and though your acrylic nails aren’t that long, they are definitely not helping considering your motor skills are already slightly inhibited by the shots in your system.

“Gym, no… Pool, no… Campus, Mom’s house, oh come on!” You sigh, grabbing onto everything but what you need. “Oh, yes! Finally,” Your eyes flutter in relief once you finally get your hands on your house key, your purse slipping from your shoulder to your forearm as you angle yourself to stick it in the doorknob.

And just as you’re about to turn the key, it turns for you, and with a tilt of your head you watch as the door swings open to reveal none other than Ao’nung, your roommate, in the doorway.

His curls are messy, majority of them pulled back into a ponytail, but the rest are tousled and indicative of his bedhead as they frame his face, soft and delicate to balance his hardened features while sharp, seafoam eyes peer down at the slight sway of your small frame in the hallway.

“Jesus, Y/n, it’s almost 2am in the morning. Where have you been?”

His voice is rough and to anyone else it’d seem like he was reprimanding you, but you know that’s just how Ao’nung sounds when he talks so you wave him off with a floppy, dismissive hand. He’s obviously worried about you, and that’s clear in the way his eyes leak with concern.

Though you didn’t notice, because he’s shirtless as he stands off to the side in front of you with a hand on his hip like a displeased father, and that only directs your gaze to the sweatpants that hang low on his waist. Your eyes trail down his chiseled torso and stop at his prominent v-line before he’s rolling his eyes and tugging you inside, because all you can do is stand there and look dumb. And while he did think you looked cute while doing it, that wasn’t the point.

“Get in the house, dummy.”

With a quiet yelp you shuffle your way in and hope your feet can keep up the speed. He closes the door behind you, turning back around with a solicitous look on his face.

“How did you get home? Did someone drive you? You’re drunk.” He states, and you bring your hand to and away from your head in a ‘duh’ motion.

“No shit sherlock, I couldn’t tell,” You snicker, because right about now, everything is funny, down to the slight slur of your words and the way his lips purse at your untimely sense of humor. You bend over and nearly fall forwards while you slip your heels off your feet, and his hands are already out just in case he needs to catch you. He watches as you bring your wobbly body back up and brush the hair from your face, the whole act clearly taking a lot more effort due to your tipsy state seeing as you’re nearly out of breath.

“My friends wanted to stay, I didn’t, so I took an uber.” You shrug, sticking the tip of your tongue out and plucking one of those small white fibers that float in the air from it. It’s apparent that you’re pretty much past the conversation, not marking it as a big deal but his eyes almost blow from his skull at your response.

“You took an uber? Alone? In that little ass thing?” He huffs out in exasperation and a hand gestures down at the tiny, tight black fabric clinging to your skin that you have the nerve to call a dress. It stops just above your upper thighs and hugs you in all the right places, which was exactly your intention. You look down like you don’t know what you’re wearing, and he frustratedly drags a hand down his face when he glances away because somehow, you’re even more clueless than usual.

“Why didn’t you call me? I would’ve came to get you!”

“Stop yelling at me!” You whine. Your hand going to cradle your pounding head as your bottom lip pokes out into a subtle pout. “I didn’t wanna wake you up…”

“I’m not-“ His agitation falters at the look you give him and he exhales, quickly nodding his head because he knows better to upset a girl when she’s drunk. The last thing he wanted to deal with was a show of your tear-filled dramatics, which happened quite often, might he add. Ever since the day he’d rushed out of his room at the sound of you crying in the kitchen, all to find out it was literally over spilt milk because you’d accidentally dropped your last bowl of Lucky Charms on the floor, your unofficial nickname had become ‘crybaby’.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” He reaches forward and takes your bag and keys from your hands to set them on the kitchen counter across from you. “Just, please, call me next time. They’re a bunch of weirdos out there and I don’t want you getting into any trouble. I won’t be mad if you wake me up, I do it for my sister all the time.”

You listen as closely as you can to the actual words that are coming from his mouth, urging yourself not to take it in the way you know you will, but for some reason you can’t shake the thought that barges into your head. And it’s like he can see it on your face when your chin lifts slightly, lips slowly pulling into an undeniable smirk and your eyes narrow at him, because rarely is Ao’nung ever helpful, let alone worried about you. Your expression is one he knows all too well, and he sighs as his head falls to the side, your smile only growing wider and he knows where this is going.

“Don’t-“

It’s too late, the thought’s already built a cozy home in your mind and you’re letting it stay there.

“You care about me!” You drawl, arms extending outwards as you make your way towards him.

“No, not really.” His response is immediate, a brow raising as you approach him. With one brisk once over his eyes cast on you, he knows it’s not a good idea and he holds a finger out in front of him, cheek turned towards you in warning. “Uh uh, do not-“

You wrap your arms around his torso despite his resistance and his body tenses when you give it a tight squeeze, attempting to swing the both of you back and forth. It doesn’t work, obviously, because he’s larger than you and basically unmovable.

“You’re sweet when you’re worried, Ao’nung.” You hum.

He keeps his hands hovered over your back, fingers not even close to ghosting over your body, like you have some terrifyingly contagious sickness that he’s deadly afraid of contracting. He’s desperately trying to think of anything but the heat of your chest pressed flush against his upper abdomen, your head tucked under his chin and a sharp, involuntary inhale through his nose is enough to tell him that he and his dignity would really appreciate it if you’d allow his brain to operate normally. So, he does what he does best: deflects the accusation with such vehemence as if he’s trying to outsmart a heat-seeking missile.

“Please let go. You reek of desperate partygoers and tequila. I hate tequila.” He grumbles, dramatically covering his nose with a hand. “I also think a shower wouldn’t hurt.” There’s a smirk playing on his lips that you can’t see and he knows he’s only teasing you, as it just so happens to be one of his favorite pastimes. You smell wonderful, like you always do, but he’d never tell you that.

You abruptly shove him away with a scoff and he can’t help but laugh at the look on your face, the way your jaw drops in astonishment and your eye twitches. You can’t even sputter out a response, all you can do is narrow your eyes at him before you spin on your heels to stalk off. It was a bad idea seeing as you’re already dizzy, but you quickly regain your balance and continue.

“You sure you can find your way there, sweetheart?”

“Oh, and wouldn’t you just love to help me. I can feel you looking at my ass!” You shout from down the hall, middle finger raised behind you.

Jaw falling slightly slack, his eyes instantly snap up from where he didn’t even realize they were resting. He pulls the inside of his cheek between his teeth, face growing hot as he curtly nods to himself.

“Yup, I’m going to bed.”

____

Once Ao’nung heard the shower shut off after about twenty minutes, he deemed it safe to close his eyes and sleep; the fear of you passed out because you’d somehow slipped and hit your head on the tub long gone from his mind.

He’s laid on his side with an arm folded under his head, basically asleep when you carefully crack his door open, a big t-shirt and loose shorts on your body as you slip through the opening. You move at a snail’s pace and go to shut it, but the door creaks, and with an eye pinched to a close your face screws into a wince, shoulders tensing as you freeze in your tracks.

You reluctantly peek over at the lump in the dark that‘s his figure, but the sound didn’t wake him up, his eyes remain closed and you let out a small breath at that. Tiptoeing your way to the unoccupied side of the bed, you nearly trip over a sweatshirt on the floor but swiftly catch yourself with a crabbed huff, kicking it under the bed.

You peel his blankets back with just your pointer finger and your thumb, trying to cause as little commotion possible as you carefully sit down on the mattress. A silent prayer to somehow become weightless recites in your mind, head swishing over your shoulders when you glance at his back every now and then in hopes of catching any sign of him stirring.

You’re sure you’re in the clear, but just as you go to swing your legs over, your ear picks up on the sound of a grunt from behind you. Teeth catch your lip, eyes shutting as you steel yourself for confrontation and mouth a mute curse to the air. You should’ve known your presence wouldn’t go unnoticed. Ao’nung is a relatively light sleeper, and contrary to what he’d told you earlier, you’re no stranger to the fact that he doesn’t like to be disturbed. But you’d assumed that because he stayed up to wait for you to come home, that he would be knocked out already and this would be easier to explain in the morning.

But he was up the moment he felt the bed dip, sleep immediately leaving him once he’d turned his head and saw you sitting on his mattress. Certain he’s hallucinating or this is a dream that feels a little too real, Ao’nung rapidly blinks the mist from his vision and you can feel the searing gaze boring into the back of your head, even more so when you continue to lay down as if what you’re doing is completely normal.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” His voice is groggy, irritated in the way his tone nips at your ears.

“Uh… Going to bed.” You mumble, hesitantly pulling the sheets over your shoulder.

He’s propped on his elbow now, his loose, untamed hair dusting his shoulders as his face crinkles incredulously at the gall of your answer.

“Have you lost your mind? Or are you that drunk where you’ve forgotten where your own room is?”

You wish the mattress would just open up and swallow you whole.

“I threw up on my bed.” With your back still turned to him, your voice is small when you answer.

It’s silent for a few seconds, the only thing you can hear is the blood rushing to your face and with baited breath you roll your lips between your teeth as you anxiously wait on a response.

“I’m too tired for this shit.” He mutters beneath his breath, quiet enough so you won’t hear.

His body falls back to the bed and your lungs fill with much needed air, his back facing you once again. His bed is much more comfortable than yours as you snuggle up against his pillow, and the sheets tug in his direction when he pulls them over his body, his way of silently telling you not to get used to it.

“If I feel so much as one cold toe touch my leg, I swear to God you’re sleeping on the floor.”

Likes + Comments + Reblogs are much appreciated! 💗

@eitaababe ever since you made Ao’nung call us sweetheart in ‘somebody else’ it’s been canon to me

©teyums 2023

[dearsnow]

HEAVEN

- you’re the closest to heaven that johnny cade will ever get, and the night sky begins to urge his feelings past the brink of overthinking. (johnny cade x gn!reader, fluff but a little achy, ooc dialogue because it’s meant to be poetic)

word count: 694

a/n- another fic based on a song, how classic asther of me 😭 this one is iris by the goo goo dolls. i hope y’all enjoy because i remembered that this song existed and thought, “oh my god i can make a hyperfixation fic out of this”! and i did. this is also barely proofread so 💀 love you guys <3

It is a particularly dark night, one where the stars shine like bright pinpricks in the sky and the moon is as plump and full as a perfectly ripe fruit. It’s cold, as well, with a delightful shiver that makes you shrink into the jean jacket wrapped around your shoulders.

You’re staring up into the inky blackness, and Johnny Cade is staring at you. The soft moonlight bathes you in a glow that he believes is unmatched by any earthly thing. His heart beats in his chest, fast and loud. His fingers brush by yours, a cold contrast to the warmth of your palms.

When you wrap your hands around his, remarking that he must be freezing, he thinks that he could die of a heart attack at any moment. If he could stare into your eyes just like this, though, he would die a happy man. Words unsaid bubble in the pits of your souls, so much so that Johnny can feel them tumbling off his tongue before he can even think about the topic of two seconds ago. He opens his mouth, inhibitions damned.

“I don’t want to go home. Not now, not ever. I want to stay here with you until Hell freezes over.” He murmurs. He loves you, and he knows it. The blanket underneath his jeans is just soft enough to be comfortable, and the picnic basket by his feet is long-forgotten, and you look up at him with eyes full of wonder.

In all honesty, you don’t want to go home either. Being with Johnny is like having someone know the most intimate parts of you just by glancing at a fraction of your face. He is, unlike all others, most completely in tune with everything you are thinking. And through time and effort and patience, you know him like the back of your hand as well. He is the kindest boy you have ever met, and if you had to ice the underworld to stay in his presence, you would do it in a heartbeat.

The air around his face is clouded with his soft breaths, and you move closer, placing his hands in your lap. “I feel the same way.”

“You’re just… the closest to Heaven that I’ll ever be. I want you all the time, every day.” His voice is rough, just like his palms. You cannot think of a sweeter sound, and it forces you to bare your mind to him.

“And you can have me.” You smile, and yet your next words come out with a little hesitation. “I love you. I ache for you, really. I want you to be like this all the time, open and confident in the things that you’re sure of, because you can always be sure that I’m here. I want you to be gold. Good and soft and true.” Your voice wobbles at the end of the last sentence, and it sends a pang through Johnny’s stomach. He leans his head on your shoulder. If he could be anything, do anything, he would want to be with you.

Your heart swells when he touches you, gently, like he always does. He brushes a stray blade of grass away from the spot next to your ear. “If I’m gold, you’re an angel sent straight from the place up high.”

A laugh rings from your stomach, bounding into the night. He smiles.

“If I’m an angel,” you ask, “can you be my gold necklace? Right over my heart? Or are they not allowed the frivolities of mortal life?”

He hums, looking up at the sky and then back down to you. “I think you’d be allowed anything, so long as you keep being the greatest angel I’ve ever known.”

You run a small lock of his hair through your fingers as the stars directly above you shine through the clouds trying to drown out their light. “I’m flattered.” You say. “If I am an angel, and you are my necklace, I believe that any place could be heaven.”

His lips pull at the corners to form a sort of sad-happy smile. “I hope so. I really, really hope so.”

[prince-liest]

The specific phrasing of “hurt very pretty” is. I knew before this series I was more into the soft sadism/dom thing but it’s soooo rare to find someone who does the exact flavor I’m into and I think that phrase in my head sooooo often

Ahaha, I'm so glad you're enjoying it! I've always really liked, as you describe it, soft sadism, where it's about the intimacy, the connection, and the sort of delightfully recursive loop you get when the suffering is enjoyed, and the enjoyment of the suffering also contributes to the suffering, whether it be via enthusiasm or humiliation. Funnily enough, despite the kind of stuff that I write, S&M that feels genuinely callous and miserable is fully capable of squicking me if it hits just wrong. I really like writing sadism that feels tender, even when it's violent.

Five more asks under the cut! If you sent something about 666 in the past 24-ish hours, it's probably there!

Your newest channel 666 fic had me so mixed on how to feel "Oh ok they're drunk and Al's on his lap... that wasn't in the tags oh no vox isn't advancing... nevermind he's electrocuting Al, i get it, a little something to get the blood pumping oh no wait he's actually electrocuting him oh good lord he's screaming in pain"

Hahaha, god, tagging this chapter was really a fucking nightmare - if there's anything you think I missed that's important to include, PLEASE let me know, because I tried to cover my bases but I really had to give up after a bit. It's just One Of Those Chapters and the first time I've used the Graphic Violence archive warning for something that was just fully consensual sexy times, haha. I hope it was at least enjoyable overall! Alastor certainly had a good time.

I've binged your 666 series and it irreversibly changed my brain chemistry It's more canon than everything that happened in the show itself to me - @grimfeywizard

Ahhhh, thank you so much! >:D I definitely tried to mimic the style of canon for the characters, especially for the first installments before they kinda went their own way character development wise, haha. I'm glad you like it!! <3

I was at a convention all weekend and when you updated BOTH times I snuck out of my group and into a corner to read them I am completely obsessed with this series 🙏🙏🙏 -@urlocal-cryptid7

Omg, glad to add the cherry on top of your con experience, hahaha. Thank you so much!!

hey there, just wanted to say i’m absolutely enraptured with the 666 series! it’s absolutely amazing and one of my favorite fics out there right now. i’m always looking forward to it and checking for updates, great work!!!!

Ahhhh, thank you for the kind words!! I'm really enjoying writing it in all of its weirdnesses, so it's always so nice to hear that people are enjoying the odd directions it goes!

Another fun radiostatic song: The Masochism Tango by Tom Lehrer - @butwhyaretheycalledstrawberries

This is 100% what I had playing in the car on repeat when I wrote one of the previous installments, hahaha. It's a fantastic radiostatic song, especially with the level of sadomasochism I write into 666.

(Anon who was awaiting the drunk Alastor shenanigans here) Me, pre-installment 8 of 666: Oh My God, it’s happening. Everybody STAY CALM- Me, post-installment 8 of 666: *ugly sobbing* it was everything i could ever hope for, your honor. The Prince(TM) is good and merciful. So yeah, expectations met as always 👍

Omg, ehehehe - drunk Alastor was honestly SO fun to write, because it's just... taking away a lot of his worries and inhibitions, and the behaviors that normally accompany them. I took what Mimzy said about him being a kitten when he's had a few drinks and lets loose and ran with it, and it turned out very enjoyable. I'm glad you also had a good time reading, hahaha!

[leffee]

I'm not sure if this has already been submitted for the ship ask thing you've been doing but may I request Zinnie?

Nope, Zinnie has not been on the table yet, so let's fucking gooooooooo

who’s the cuddler: Oh, do they both like cuddles with Vinnie liking them even more, but at the same time he's way too tsundere about things like that so he won't initiate them directly or show it. Zoe however has no such inhibitions and after a while she realized that Vinnie's just putting up a tough front while in fact loving touch so much. Cuddle the small man, he's a softie >:]. So Zoe, she just takes him and loves the hell out of him

who makes the bed: Zoe, she wants it neat, dang it while Vinnie doesn't care about stuff like that. He's going to be in that bed later that day anyway, what's the point in making it? But assuming we talk with them sleeping in the same bed Vinnie sometimes does it too. For Zoe's sake, not his. Zoe can absolutely tell him to do stuff and he will, but she doesn't abuse that too often.

who wakes up first: Zoe as well. Not only is she rather productive and just used to waking up at decent hours, but also Vinnie can sleep and sleep and sleep in. If you don't wake him up and it's not too loud around him he's not waking up. It's okay though, if needed Zoe can just tickle him awake or something

who has the weird taste in music: Oh this damn question. Idk maaaan. All I know is that they have sort of similar tastes in music. As in, Vinnie really really likes Zoe's songs. I headcanon that regarless of ships or lack of them, Vinnie adores the songs Zoe sings, he thinks they're great and in fact he sings or hums them often

who is more protective: Mmm, Vinnie, he's just like that with those he loves and obviously his girlfriend is not an exception but Zoe is not that far behind. It's kinda the same thing I imagine with Zoepper, Zoe is aware that her partner, in this case Vinnie, doesn't exactly look like the people she used to date in the past so she's aware others might think Vinnie does not deserve her. It's that girlboss boy failure dynamic. I mean, look at her and then look at him. So yeah, in such situations especially she's protective too. It's her boy-toy and he's perfect, they just don't get it >:(

who sings in the shower: Boooth. Of course Zoe sings in the shower and Vinnie does too, maybe a bit less though. They both sing Zoe's songs as you could have probably predicted reading the music taste thing. Not only that but it's worth mentioning. So when they shower together? Oh boy, it's a whole damn concert. If they sing that is, chances are they making out or something

who cries during movies: Zoe, though it's mostly dramatic crying, mostly. Vinnie doesn't cry easily especially because of movies, like if he is going to cry it will be real life related. And even if he felt like crying during a movie he'd stop himself from doing so, he thinks it's embarassing for him to cry let alone in front of someone else

who spends the most while out shopping: Zoe, of course. More money, more need to buy especially clothes and make up. But she does spoil Vinnie a bit every now and then and buys him stuff. Still, it's her money so yeah, Zo-Zo. Vinnie mostly just buys food anyway

who kisses more roughly: Hmm, they both can get rough. Zoe also really likes being gentle sometimes, more than Vinnie who craves that intensity most of the time. However, because of that when Zoe is gentle with him like that he's caught off guard by the sheer gentleness and how nice it feels. So yeah, Vinnie kisses more roughly because he's intense like that

who is more dominat: It's a Vinnie ship. Of course I choose the other person. Zoe. And Vinnie is her, as stated before, boy-toy. For real though she loves him a lot, I just love love Vinnie being the more submissive one in a ship, any ship. That's how all my favourite characters are. Also girl x boy ship with the girl being the more dominant and taller one? Hell yeah.

my rating of the ship from 1-10: 9/10, I twirled my hair and giggled like an idiot several times while writing it all and thinking about them. Also big angst potential on Vinnie's side in this ship and that's good too ("What do you see in him?" "He makes me laugh." I know it's supposed to be haha funny but I see angst in it too much)

[realityescapee01]

That Night

Steo | Stiles x Theo

Getting over the past and some differences, Stiles and Theo decided "to hell with it". Threw caution to the wind. Ignored the judgement of others...

And finally got together.

But Stiles' traits started rubbing off on Theo.

And it drove Theo to not wanna see Stiles for the night.

Stiles jogged down the stairs, loosening his black tie with one hand and fishing out his jeep's keys with his other hand.

He's excited.

To see Theo.

Stiles let out a little laugh.

Him. Excited. To see Theo.

He never thought that day would come. Given Theo's history with the pack. But truth be told, Stiles is attracted to Theo. That was part of him suspecting Theo thing. Suspecting and being attracted to the same person is what Stiles was going through all those months with their chimera problem.

And more things happened, ghost riders, and Theo redemption arc. Scott was very forgiving and took Theo into the pack. The other pack members aren't 100% okay with it.

But Stiles, Stiles threw all inhibitions out and away and because he had lost Theo once. Getting dragged underground. Stiles was miserable.

An now that Theo is back, and still wants him, Stiles just grabbed it. Took what he wanted. For himself. For once. After everything he went through with the supernatural shenanigans.

So, it's been a few months since they got together. Every weekends he'd drive back to Beacon Hills to stay over at Theo's the whole weekend.

Spend the whole weekend with Theo doing... everything he fantasized about.

And he is excited for the thing they're gonna try for tonight.

Stiles sent Theo a message. Telling him how excited he is. The curly fries he missed so much. And the thing they're gonna do before sleeping.

Theo replies a few minutes after. Shooting Stiles down.

-I'm sorry, Stiles, I have something to do tonight. I'm staying out late.-

Stiles stopped the jeep at the side of the road. He read the chat over and over.

"Oh god. Did I-Did Theo finally..." -Stiles was saddened. Stiles was scared.

He was scared that Theo might want him and then when he got him, he'd see how annoying he is and get tired of him.

And this might be it. Stiles admits he was a little too clingy to Theo. But who wouldn't? Have you seen Theo? Especially when he's naked? Who wouldn't get all clingy?

Stiles messaged Theo again.

-Okay. What's happening?-

Theo replied right after.

-I'll meet you tomorrow. I need to do something tonight.-

Stiles hand shook. Do something? Tonight? With who?!? Is Theo seeing someone else?

-Okay. Well, I'm driving straight home then.-

Stiles cursed and thought maybe he shouldn't have been too clingy and pathetic and annoying. Well, at least Theo would tell him in person. So he started driving again.

Stiles didn't even look how fast he was going, he just gotta see Theo and know what the fuck is happening.

He stopped just right in front Theo's house. Jumped off the jeep and ran to the front door.

"Hey, Stiles-" -Theo got tackled back into the house. Holding Stiles just enough to not get them falling to the floor.

"I'm sorry, Theo. Tell me, what is it? Too annoying? Too clingy? Too much Star Wars talk? Who are you seeing tonight?"

"W-What?"

"You're breaking up with me."

"What?!? No! Stiles, why do you think that?"

"You don't want to see me tonight. Don't want me to stay over."

"Yeah, I said that. But not because I'm breaking up with you- which I'm never gonna do. You're stuck with me. Forever."

"Then what are you gonna do tonight?"

Theo smirked and looked away. "You're rubbing off on me. Being dramatic and sentimental."

"What?" -Stiles couldn't understand.

"Tonight... is senior scribe, Stiles."

Theo was still finishing his senior year, being held back and all.

"...Oh." -Stiles remembered.

Remembered how important it was to him. And his friends.

"But Theo, you don't have friends." -Stiles said matter-of-factly.

"Ouch!" -Theo feigned heartache. "I do. Sort of. Some useful, some not. Anyways. I want to attend."

"Because?" -Stiles still wasn't getting it.

"Because I want to write my initials next to yours."

"...Oh." -Stiles started getting teary eyed.

Theo noticed and pulled Stiles into a hug. "This is why I didn't wanna tell you, my melodramatic snow white."

"Theo... are you gonna put a heart on it?"

Theo let out a chuckle. "Do you want me to?"

"Yes." -Stiles said instantly and nodding furiously.

"Okay."

"Take a photo of it." -Stiles broke off from the hug and took Theo's hand. "Come on! I'll drive you to the school!"

Theo kept laughing on their way to Stiles' jeep. And to the school. Stiles looks around started to reminisce his highschool days.

Theo went in and lined up with the others. He looked for the shelf where Stiles wrote on that night.

And when he found it, he started to write his initials with it.

With a heart. Of course. As requested.

Stiles waited for Theo right outside the doors. He was holding his hand out. Waiting for Theo to hand him something over.

Theo smirked and handed him his phone. Stiles got to it and in a few minutes, cleaned it up and gave it back to Theo - now with a new lock screen. He did the same to his own phone.

Stiles smiled widely at Theo. Giddy and bubbly.

"So, you had to put yours on top, huh?" -Stiles looked at it lovingly.

Theo walked closer to him, too close, that his body warmth radiated towards Stiles.

And then he whispered, in a low, sultry voice: "I'm always top, Stiles. And you love it."

-+-+-+ ( complete ) +-+-+-

a/n: Just realized Theo never had the senior scribe, so I gave him one. 😁

thank you. more on my master list here

I also have an AO3 account

my art/design shop here (for fanart and other things I do)

Like the gifs used here? See source under them. Reblog, do not repost. Thank you all gif creators here ♥️

[eighthsensed]

Teen Vogue Excerpt – Why Queer Characters in LGBTQ Movies and BL Dramas Find Solace at the Beach

BY K-CI WILLIAMS JUNE 29, 2023

The Eighth Sense, a BL drama from South Korea, lives and dies by the beach. Oh Jun-taek plays Jihyun, a college student from a small town who struggles to acclimatize to metropolitan Seoul. When Jihyun joins the surfing club, he bonds with his senior, Jaewon, played by Im Ji-sub. As they fall in love, the beach becomes their spot for sleeping under the stars and even kissing in the ocean. “The beach is kind of like a tool that connects us,” Ji-sub tells Teen Vogue over Zoom, in his native Korean. Jun-taek adds that the “beach is very wide but Jihyun has been living in a world that has been very small,” and although “the ocean itself is very cold, the ocean was actually very warm for Jihyun.” It’s a site of transformation for them both, just as water metamorphoses between its forms.

Ji-sub names the beach as a “special spot” for Jaewon, “where he can relax and heal mentally as well.” Jaewon’s younger brother tragically passed away a number of years before we meet him in the series, and the trauma still sits with him. “I didn't realize how broad a range of emotions can be felt when you love someone until I played the character Jaewon, because it's something that I personally didn't experience,” Ji-sub says. Jaewon welcomes Jihyun into his place of significance, illuminating his dark spaces and ultimately bringing the pair together.

Jun-taek alludes to the title of the series, recalling our senses as human beings. Interoception, often called the eighth sense, is the brain’s perception of the body’s state, thanks to signals transmitted from our internal organs. Understanding these signals can help us regulate our physical and emotional state, though at the same time, trauma can inhibit those pathways. “The beach kiss scene was the sequence [in which] someone with pain and bad memories, PTSD in the past, turns into love and being healed by Jihyun,” Jun-taek says. “Although you have bad memories or trauma…you can be healed. Do not remain, do not stay with the pain.”

Inu Baek, one half of The Eighth Sense’s writer/director duo, attributes the beach to a specific cultural symbolism. He refers to the United Nations Human Rights Committee’s 2015 advice for South Korea to adopt comprehensive protections for all citizens, which would prohibit discrimination against the queer community. “We have not been able to enact the anti-discrimination law in Korea yet,” Inu tells Teen Vogue. He wanted to “give the Korean audience a message because Korea has experienced lots of disasters in the ocean” that are still ever-present traumas for citizens, such as the Sewol ferry tragedy — the show even pays tribute to those lost with a covertly placed yellow ribbon. “The beach symbolizes the hope of the harmony of this country,” Inu says.

A still from The Eighth Sense. COURTESY OF THE EIGHTH SENSE

The show’s other writer/director is Werner du Plessis, who offers the beach as a representation of “the ebb and flow of relationships, the way that they move, the way that they’re never consistent,” but also a “space that is simultaneously peaceful, while being extremely dangerous, like the ocean is such an unknown.” And also, quicksand exists. Intrinsic to our genesis as queer people is navigating identity, from day dot. As the intersection of two worlds, toeing the line between who society expects us to be and who we truly are inside, the beach is “such a beautiful metaphor for queer people,” Werner says, “because it’s exactly the way that we’re designed.”