#You've got a certain pep in your words?

[minty-bubblegum]

Why is it at times like these I get the most random questions🙄 I need to know the logic behind this

Anyways, what in the fuck does my voice sound like bc I realize I may sound a certain way to me but not to others

HOW IN TGE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW

[porcelainseashore]

Us

Pairing: Guitarist! Leon Kennedy x Singer! Fem! Reader

Summary: You've joined Chris, Claire and Leon in Stars Rebellion as the band's new lead vocalist. If you thought chasing fame was hard, dealing with your growing feelings for a certain blonde guitarist might just take the cake.

Content & Warnings: Rock bands, friends to lovers, romance, slow burn, feelings realization, fluff and angst, swearing, recreational drug use, drinking, implied alcohol abuse, sexual harassment, suggestive themes, panic attacks, religious guilt, other Resident Evil characters (Chris, Claire, Ada, Wesker, Jill, Luis, Irons, Steve).

Author's Note: Mostly imagined RE4R Leon in this, though he's a cocky little shit in the beginning and mellows out later. As inspo, I’ve had Ethel Cain’s Michelle Pfeiffer on repeat and you’ll see why in the story. Special thanks to AliBelleRosetta for your wonderful feedback!

AO3 Link

It had only been a few weeks since you’d joined the Stars Rebellion, the band you were currently in, thanks to the recommendation of a friend of a friend. You’d somehow coasted along through college, finally free of your parents’ clutches, and made a new life for yourself along the way. It was as if you could be who you really were, without any tied past or history holding you back, and you’d never felt more alive.

You were backstage, warming up before it was time to head out for your first performance. Chris had come over to give everyone a pep talk, while Leon tapped out a beat on the body of his pacific blue Fender guitar impatiently. Claire was nodding away to her brother’s words as she frowned at herself in the cosmetic mirror, the bright LED lights illuminating her flawless skin. You sat at the back, quietly keeping to yourself as you always do, ignoring the jitters in your hands. The adrenaline was kicking in now, you were used to it. Soon, you’d be a completely different person. It was as if once you were on stage, a match was struck and you were on fire.

For now, you contented yourself with recalling the events of how you ended up with this motley crue. It had been a warm, humid Thursday afternoon, when you were done with your classes for the day, and you made your way over to one of the rental practice rooms at the back of a second-hand record store just a little off campus. Your friend Jill had told you that another friend of hers was looking for a new vocalist for their band. Seeing how you’d been singing on and off with various student bands that never really had the drive to go anywhere, she hooked you up, stating that said friend, Claire, was the most determined person she’d ever met.

So here you were, knocking on the door of the shabby, makeshift rehearsal room, covered in countless band and anarchic motto stickers.

“Come on in!” A chirpy, high-pitched voice called out.

The door creaked on its hinges as you opened it by just a crack, enough for you to poke your head through.

“Aw, she’s a shy one,” a boy with floppy, blonde hair who was sitting at the corner, hunched over his guitar remarked. His tone had no hint of maliciousness in it, just pure curiosity.

“Shut it, Kennedy.” The lady, wearing a distinct red leather jacket that matched the color of her hair tied back in a springy ponytail, rolled her eyes before greeting you with a warm smile.

“Hey…” She stuck her hand out, as you cautiously entered the room, taking in the new faces around you. “I’m Claire. You must be Jill’s friend.”

You returned back a feeble smile as you shook her hand. “Yeah, uh, and the Stars Rebellion, huh?”

“That’s right,” a beefy guy with cropped, dark brown hair behind the drum kit piped up. “Our previous vocalist left,” he paused, with his brows furrowed as if he had been reminded of something unpleasant. “You know how it’s like these days.”

You nodded understandingly as he continued. “We’ve got a sweet gig in about two weeks, so we need a replacement fast. You heard our stuff?”

“Yeah, ’course.” Jill had sent you all the recordings and info you needed to prepare yourself for today.

“Great, so-”

“Whoa, hold up a second,” Claire interjected. “Older brothers,” she sighed. “You know what they’re like.” She pointed towards the drummer. “Speaking of which, that’s my very own one over there.”

“Chris, say hello,” she ordered.

“Hi,” his monotone greeting accosted you while he waved over with a drumstick in hand. His confident and no-nonsense persona struck you as someone who was the natural leader of the group.

“Don’t worry about him, he’s really a cuddly bear underneath,” she whispered loudly enough for everyone in the room to hear. “Isn’t that right, Chris?”

He grunted in reply, still looking as stoic as ever, his square jawline unflinching, as if his sister’s words had no effect on him.

“Anyway, I guess you can already tell, I’m on bass.” She swayed her hips a little, gesturing towards the instrument that was strapped around her.

The blonde cleared his throat, seemingly irritated at being relegated to the position of the last person to be introduced.

“And that.” She pointed over to him. “Well, that’s just Leon.”

With a bold smirk, he cradled the guitar to his chest, as his fingers danced along the fretboard, unleashing a cool, intricate riff that spiraled through the air.

“Also a fucking show off,” Claire retorted.

You caught his gaze and the bright blue eyes that lured you in dangerously close, like you were Icarus flying towards the sun. He was one of those boys your father had warned you about. Handsome, charming, but the devil in disguise. You could still hear his stern words about perdition and hellfire booming in your ear. You closed your eyes before they hurt too much.

“So, erm, why don’t we start with the first track on our demo?” Claire’s voice snapped you out of your reverie.

Blinking your eyes open, you bowed your head slightly in response, before getting into position behind the mic. You can do this. A silent prayer reverberated through your head, as the opening chords played.

And just like it happened every time, that magical switch flipped, and you became someone else entirely different from yourself, yet it belonged to every part of you. As you bellowed, growled and sighed breathily into the mic like a rockstar on acid, you noticed a change in the air around you and how your future bandmates looked at you in awe. It felt like an electric current coursing through your veins. It felt like coming home.

You only needed to go through another two more songs, before they were completely floored and decided there and then that they wanted you in. The vibe between the four of you was great, there was no denying that. And you had already started throwing in some moves that were usually saved for performances with Leon, as all of you jammed together.

“That was fucking awesome!” Leon exclaimed, with Claire following suit. Even Chris was smiling widely.

“Yeah, that felt really good,” you panted, a little out of breath from the exertion.

All at once, Chris patted you on the back, cementing your entry. “Welcome to the family.” You felt your heart tug at the last word. Could you really belong here now?

“Nice to finally have another girl in the band!” Claire blurted out, as she pulled you in for a quick hug.

“Mm hm, very nice.” Leon gave you a cheeky wink, before Claire smacked the back of his head.

“Behave.”

“Oh, I will,” he snickered.

You shuddered, wondering how a silly remark like that could get you so riled up, as you chose to suppress whatever thoughts that came bubbling towards the surface. He was just one of those cocky bastards who would let fame get to their head, you discerned. Probably had a bunch of groupies lined up too. So you paid no more attention to him than needed.

A large, rough hand landed on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “You good?”

You shook yourself out of the daydream, coming back to reality backstage, as you eyed the imposing, broad figure in front of you. “Yeah, I’m ready. Thanks, Chris.”

“Don’t mention it.”

As you strode out onto the stage, the crowd clapped and whistled, though the reception seemed rather lukewarm. Perhaps most of them were waiting for the later bands, who also happened to be the more established ones, to play. It didn’t matter though. Your job was to get them hyped up, and you knew how to do it well.

Leon nodded at you, indicating that he’d start running through the beginning licks of the song on the setlist you’d all prepped. At the same time, he gave you an encouraging smile, which eased the tension a little. Even though you’d only got to know him a few weeks ago, you soon realized that your first impression of him wasn’t exactly the most accurate, and that despite being an insufferable prick, he had another side to him that was caring and gentle. He’d patiently helped you run through the songs with him, and even took a couple of your suggestions in improving them. He hung out with you outside of band practice, wanting to get to know you as a person, and trying to make you feel comfortable within the group. Most musicians had a stick up their ass and would’ve never given you the time of day. But he did. You’d even go as far as to call him a lovable asshole.

As the whirring of Leon’s guitar filled the space, you clenched your fist, pumping it above your head as you let out a low snarl into the mic, before belting out the lyrics, your voice raw and powerful as it soared over the riffs and the steady rhythm of the drum and bass. At a particularly heavy drop, you leaped into the air, before landing on your feet and tearing through the vocals as you rocked out with Leon at the front, playing off the energy you exchanged with each other.

It was infectious, like a feverish dream, and the crowd’s excitement grew. Among the sea of bodies pressed together, you could just about make out the look of enthusiasm on their faces, their eyes sparking with the thrill of the moment, as they jumped, moshed and cheered to the music. Time seemed to pass by so quickly, as one song flew into the other. In between, you made sure to introduce the band, thank the organizers and the audience themselves, coaxing more screams and shouts in unison as you teased them about hearing another song, what it was about, praising them on how great of a crowd they were, and with a sly wink, asking them if they could give you more. And they were more than happy to oblige.

In the final track, a devilish grin broke out across your face as you turned towards Chris and Claire, both of them laughing and shaking their heads as they knew what was coming next, before you faced the audience again. Tapping your foot in time to the beat, you murmured sultrily into the mic, “You wanna see me swallow this mic whole?”

The crowd went mental at the proposal as your velvety laughter rang out across the venue. “Come on, you can do better than that.” You pouted, licking your lips suggestively. “How much do you want it?”

Once the crowd roared, you nodded in approval and pulled the cord of the mic taut between your hands, making a grand show of it, as you tilted your head back, slowly inserting the head of the mic downwards into your mouth. As it went in, you bit at the bottom of the head, gripping it securely between your teeth, as you went hands free and a scream ripped through your throat at the climax of the song. 

Sweat and energy radiated from every pore, as your band members kicked into action. Leon jutted his hips out, launching into a fierce, breathtaking guitar solo, his fingers pressing and weaving in and out of the strings like a blinding lightning. Claire remained the grounding force in a whirlwind of melodies, keeping a consistent beat effortlessly, as her head swayed from side to side. Chris added to the wall of sound with each strike and rattle of the snare drum, quickening the pace as he worked in the bass drum pedal and clashes on the cymbals in perfect timing, his eyes laced in concentration on the controlled chaos unfolding before him.

To say you ended in a bright explosion of sound was an understatement. The four of you hugged each other tightly and bowed to a resounding chorus of cheers and hoots, stamping their feet for yet another encore. You saluted and waved at them, your final words spilling out into the mic in gratitude, “Thanks so much, we are the Stars Rebellion! Have a good night!”

As you headed off stage, Leon pounced behind you, pulling you flush against his chest in a sweaty hug as you gasped in surprise. His hair was in a mess, darkened and clinging to his forehead in damp tendrils. “Holy shit, you were a completely different person up there! Y’know, like Ian fucking Curtis or something?” 

He blabbered on nearly incoherently, name-dropping various famous lead singers. “Karen O, yeah? And Alice Glass…”

“God, just give her a break already,” Claire giggled as she shoved Leon off of you.

You stifled a laugh, your meek personality returning the more you moved away from the spotlight. “Yeah, I guess? Um, thanks.”

Leon paused, looking at you in disbelief as he shook his head. “Jeez, just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “Lady in streets, freak in the sheets,” he mumbled almost inaudibly as you choked on your saliva and coughed violently at his quip.

“Leon,” Chris warned, as Leon held his hands up in mock surrender. 

Turning towards you, Chris sighed wearily, “Sorry about that. You did good though.”

Before you had a chance to answer, an alluring, provocative voice interrupted. “You all did good out there.”

Spinning around, you came face-to-face with a stylishly dressed lady in a red, skintight catsuit and dark leather heeled boots. A sleek, black bob framed her face, highlighting her sharp features and high cheekbones. You noticed that she focused all her attention on Leon, even though she was addressing the group.

Leon’s eyes widened, her outfit clearly seemed to pique his interest, and you could feel Chris tense up behind you, as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. At this, Claire whispered into your ear with a hint of venom, “That’s Ada, the bassist of Midnight Sun.”

Midnight Sun. That rang a bell. They were one of the more established bands in the scene, though you’d heard rumors about how haughty they could be and that they would stop at nothing to climb their way up.

“Oh, there you are.” A man with slicked-back blonde hair and dark sunglasses sauntered over coolly. If someone had told you that he was an extra from The Matrix, you would’ve believed them in a heartbeat. 

The look of disdain was prominent on his face as he glanced over at you and your bandmates. He clucked his tongue derisively. “Tell me, what is it like being the warm up crew?”

Leon was about to lash out, but Chris’ reflexes were faster, holding his shoulder in a vice-like grip. Leon huffed, as he shrugged Chris’ hand off, conceding to remaining cordial for now.

“Wesker, you’re on next!” A stagehand called out from afar.

The man tipped his head in response, before wrapping an arm around Ada’s shoulders, pulling her away from your group as he smirked. “Watch and learn, amateurs.”

“Bunch of douchebags,” Claire muttered as all of you made your way towards the dressing room to freshen up. 

From the corner of your eye, you spotted Leon peering over his shoulder another time at the lady in red.

━━━━━━━━━━━

“Seriously? That’s what was written?” You groaned, chucking Leon’s phone to the side as both of you lay sprawled out on a picnic mat across a grassy hill which connected to a park. A couple of liquor and beer bottles littered your side. Clearly, this was more of a boozy brunch than an actual brunch at all. You should’ve known better than to trust Leon to prepare something substantial. However, whenever he was around you, it seemed like he would make an effort to control his drinking habits, at least to a point where he was only tipsy but not wasted each time.

Since the last gig, the band had received many other offers to play at various venues and Chris had been eager to accept them all, in the hopes of attracting a talent scout who would spot and sign you to a major label. You’d gone on stage a few more times, with each round bringing you new fans and followers, as well as getting hounded by music journalists. Claire seemed to have a word for everything and this was no exception. She described them as rats, and in particular, a man named Luis Sera proved to be the biggest one of them all.

You remembered his irritating voice which had a slight lilt to it, as he called out for you after one of your shows in the previous month. “Señorita… hey!”

He definitely had a flair for making a spectacle out of everything that he did, and soon you’d discover that he was also a master of exaggeration. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, mi amor.” He bowed his head dramatically, as he took your hand, bringing your knuckles to meet his lips.

In the end, your band had given him half an hour of your time, only for him to grossly alter whatever answers all of you had provided during the interview when the article was published. He had pitted the Stars Rebellion against Midnight Sun, when in your opinion, both bands sounded nothing like each other and he was just doing it to stir up sensationalist shit. In addition to that, he spent most of the article writing about your looks and sex appeal, as opposed to the actual music.

To be fair, that was part of your showmanship, but it seemed like yet another case of sexism in the industry, where other male vocalists weren’t subject to the same fate as you and the handful of frontwomen, who still cut their teeth and pushed forward.

“Great,” you whined, burying your face in your hands. “Now, not only have we become an even bigger rival of Midnight Sun, he’s got people wondering if I can actually sing at all!”

Leon seemed amused by your mini outburst, but was otherwise unruffled by the comments in the article. “That’s what journalists do.” He shrugged. “Create fucking bullshit and drama. What’s new?”

He turned over to face you, taking your hand in his and squeezing it briefly before letting it go. “You’re insanely talented, you know that. Don’t listen to them.”

You smiled at his affirmation. The past months had flown by in a blur, and along with it, your bond with Leon had strengthened. You were the very definition of fast friends, having discovered many similar interests and common topics of conversation between the two of you. Although he still made the occasional off-putting remark, and was a bit of an attention-seeker, especially among the ladies, you enjoyed the time spent with him. It felt like you could be yourself and could talk to each other about anything without judgment.

Judgment. That word aroused conflicting feelings within you. On the one hand, being on stage felt freeing and you could do so many things there that would’ve been considered shameful in any other public situation. It was as though you could ignore the judgment or were immune to it. Yet, when it was time to return to the ‘normal world’, judgment haunted you wherever you went.

“Got a question though.” Leon grinned, and you knew he was coming up with another one of his pesky jokes again. “Can you sing?”

You whacked his chest as he howled with laughter. “Alright, come on, look. We’ll do it together, ok?” He whipped out his phone again, tapping on his music playlist. “I just wanna hear you sing something softer, please?”

Sighing in exasperation, you gave in to his curiosity, clearing your throat as you exposed the falsetto that you’d been hiding all this while in the city you’d run off to for college. Leon joined you on the backing vocals as you flowed through the song together, while you tried to ignore his gaze which lowered at your lips, seemingly entranced by what he was listening to. A blush crept up along your neck as the song ended.

“Didn’t realize you had that side to you,” he muttered in astonishment. “Where did you-”

“Church choir,” you uttered abruptly, hoping he wouldn’t press further.

“Oh.” That seemed to surprise him even more. “Didn’t take you as the religious kind.”

“I’m not.” You swallowed thickly, looking away.

“Your parents-”

“Don’t know, don’t care,” you hissed through gritted teeth, a little harsher than intended.

“Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean to-” He cut himself off, before sharing about his background instead. “My parents were kind of shitheads too. Well, mostly my old man.” There was another pause, as he shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Liked the bottle a bit too much.”

“I’m sorry.” You placed your hand over his, as he brushed his thumb over your knuckles.

“Don’t be. The band’s our family now.” He shifted himself up to his elbows, kicking mud off his boots. “Anyway, we don’t have to talk about your folks if you want.”

You softened up at this, realizing that he still had your best interests at heart, though a part of you felt like divulging what you had kept to yourself for so long. “It’s embarrassing,” you began. “Singing like that, kinda reminds me of the past I wanted to leave behind.”

Twiddling your fingers anxiously, you continued. “My parents were very into that whole religious thing. You could say it was almost cult-like,” you laughed nervously. “It wasn’t what I wanted to be, so I got out of it.”

Frowning, you pursed your lips as a vague memory of leaving your hometown amid a heated argument and tears came to mind. “Haven’t spoken to them in years. Probably disowned by them by now.”

“Their loss,” he replied sharply, staring you dead in the eye.

It wasn’t something you had expected to slip out of Leon’s mouth, but he had articulated it so transparently. You raised an eyebrow at him in confusion.

“You could’ve been a great televangelist,” he joked, and you chuckled along with him, finding humor in the otherwise unpleasant subject.

“It’s too bad, isn’t it?” You took a swig of the vodka bottle he offered you, wincing as the smooth liquid burned its way down your throat. “You know, when I’m up there performing, it feels like I can be whoever I want to be.”

“You can be whoever you want with me,” he spoke softly. You tried to search for any disingenuity in his eyes, but found none. “I like you all the same.”

“I like you too,” you professed, only to contort your face in horror a split second later, as you realized the implications of what you had just said. “Uh, I mean, not like that,” you sputtered helplessly. “You know, like-”

He rolled his eyes and snickered. “C’mere.” Tugging at your hand, he pulled you in close, giving you a solid hug. 

Gingerly, you wrapped your arms around his neck, inhaling deeply and relaxing in his embrace. Both of you carried a mild scent of alcohol, but you didn’t care. You were just happy to find a like-minded soul who saw you for who you were, as you did with him.

A random thought popped up in your head that you wanted to run by him that instant. It gnawed at your chest, waiting to escape. “Leon?”

“Mm?” You could feel him nuzzling your neck and wondered if he had gone past being tipsy.

“What do you think about writing a softer song? Like something more emotive,” you explained.

He still didn’t let you go. “I think that sounds great,” he murmured into your ear. “We’ll write it together.”

“Just you and me, us against the world,” he added wistfully.

You wondered what had gotten into him, but the idea of working on this creative project together felt right to you. Like a link in the thread of fate that was meant to happen.

“Us against the world,” you repeated, sealing your fate, as you felt his smile against your skin.

━━━━━━━━━━━

On a hot, sunny afternoon, you were grabbing milkshakes with Claire, before heading over to the skatepark, where another friend of hers, Steve, was trying out a couple of new tricks. He had a slender build and spiky red hair, with a punk aesthetic. In other words, the perfect skater boy. You were pretty sure he had a crush on Claire, but she seemed to be either oblivious or ignored it outright. Whenever he landed a cool trick, he’d look over at Claire for approval, only for her to give him a friendly thumbs up. 

While you sat by the benches, Claire turned towards you, wiggling her eyebrows as she commented, “You and Leon have been hanging out a lot together lately.”

“Uh huh.” You tried to appear nonchalant about it, as you sipped on your milkshake guardedly.

Truth be told, the increasing amount of time spent with Leon was causing certain inconvenient feelings to grow within you. You lied to yourself, claiming you saw him as nothing more than a friend. Falling for a lovable asshole was out of the question, especially one who might break your heart. Yet, the day where both of you drank in the park, accepting each other in ways you never thought possible, constantly replayed in your mind. Then there was the song you were working on together, the late-night calls, and the pick-me-ups for days when either of you needed support. He would drop everything to help you, and you were there when he sought comfort.

Each time you saw him flirting with one of the female fans or exchanging coy looks with Ada, you died a little inside. He was just a horny 23-year-old guy chasing after anyone with legs - at least, that's what you tried to convince yourself. So, you stayed silent about the whole affair, holding back how you really felt about him, in order to preserve your friendship.

“Anything going on between you two?” Claire asked casually.

What else could you expect from a final-year Communications major? Of course, she would have picked up on how weird you’ve been acting lately.

Still, you continued fighting a losing battle. “We’re just friends,” you asserted, poking absentmindedly at the leftover froth and cream in your drink with the straw.

She wasn’t having it though. “The question is, do you want it to stay that way?” Checkmate. You could almost see her gloating at you as you froze.

You shook your head, sighing defeatedly. “It doesn’t matter, he’s into other girls anyway.”

“Have you told him?” Crap, she got you there again.

You just gave her a noncommittal shrug.

“Look, I’m gonna level with you.” She set her drink down with an air of determination, as if she meant business. “In all my sad years of knowing that loser, he’s never behaved this way with a girl like you. Maybe he just needs a little push to see that.” Folding her arms, she cocked her head to the side. “You should tell him.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” You sucked up the rest of your drink until there was nothing more than the bubbly, gurgling sound of air and drops of fluid. With a mischievous twist of your mouth, you added, “By the way, you should probably tell Steve you’re not interested.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

When you had finally plucked up the courage to try and tell Leon about your true feelings, things didn’t go exactly as planned. For starters, he had been rather distracted about the upcoming music festival that your band would be participating in and specifically, a promo event that was tied to it. It was all he wanted to talk about, so you couldn’t get a word in.

“It’ll be the perfect opportunity to get noticed,” he pleaded. “You have to go!”

“I’m not- I don’t do very well in these types of social situations,” you argued. “You know that.”

“Excuses,” he huffed dismissively. “It’s gonna be fun, come on.”

“Chris and Claire will be there with you,” you countered again.

Placing his hands on your shoulders, he declared, “No, I want you.”

Although you knew he didn’t mean it any other way, your cheeks flushed as you turned your head away, heart throbbing at the innocuous statement he had just uttered.

“I’ll be there beside you, the whole time,” he promised. “Please, just come along?”

Biting your lip, you weighed your options, even though your emotions had already gotten the better of you, and you had made your decision regardless of what he might say. “You swear?”

“Cross my heart.”

Unfortunately, you wish you had never agreed to him in the first place, because 24 hours later, you were singing an entirely different tune.

Leon had picked you up and headed over to the event with you as arranged. It was held at a swanky members-only club with a lot of pomp, ass-kissing and too much champagne. You felt completely out of place there, but tagged along like a lost puppy behind Leon, who was reveling in the publicity and getting to know who’s who. A number of the other festival bands were there, but you weren’t particularly close to them beyond a courteous ‘Hello’. You fiddled with the cocktail that Leon had got you, praying that the Redfield siblings would show up sometime soon.

At some point, Leon caught your attention, every so often looking over his shoulder for something, or someone. “I, uh, I need to head to the restroom.”

You nodded in puzzlement, wondering why he seemed so shifty all of a sudden.

“Cool, um, I’ll make it quick.” He gave you a sheepish smile and a wink before heading off hurriedly.

He looked even apologetic? You shrugged off that thought, nursing the lone drink in your hands as you thumbed the fabric of your silvery playsuit. After a while, you checked the time on your phone. A good ten minutes had passed, but he hadn’t returned. Weird, did something happen to him?

As you continued waiting, it started to dawn on you how oppressive and suffocating the atmosphere was. It reminded you of the times when you were surrounded by the rest of the community you’d grown up with in church, scrutinizing your every move. Cold sweat formed on your palms as your breathing grew rapid and shallow. A sense of dread developed within you as your vision narrowed.

Oh god, oh god, not here, no… You latched onto the wall for support, trying to apply the tactics you usually used to calm yourself down.

“Hey there!” Claire’s upbeat voice pierced through the downward spiral you had nearly been consumed by. “Where’s Leon?”

“Um, he went to the rest-”

“What the fuck.” Claire’s jaw dropped wide open and when you followed her line of sight, you understood why.

From afar, you spotted Leon and Ada in tow, sneakily heading out of the restrooms. Bold red lipstick was smudged across Leon’s face as he wiped away at it furiously, and his pants remained unzipped, like an afterthought. Ada combed through her ruffled hair with her fingers, adjusting the bottom of her figure-hugging dress. There were no guesses as to what had occurred there. Your mouth ran dry.

“That fucking-” Claire growled. “Ugh, I’m gonna wring his neck!”

“Claire, it’s okay.” You tried to placate her, but your voice was quivering.

She turned towards you, eyeing you sympathetically as she rubbed your back. “I’m sorry,” she offered. “Well, Chris is getting some drinks. Let’s go join him?”

You accepted, making your way towards the refreshments table, still mulling over what you had just seen. As you picked up a glass of sparkling wine, Claire relayed the entire scenario over to Chris, who just shook his head disapprovingly.

A few moments later, Leon had stumbled upon your group. “Where’ve you been? I was looking all over for you!” He barked, visibly frustrated at your disappearance.

Claire scoffed, and without another word, bumped against his shoulder as she brushed past him. Chris followed suit, without the bumping, though he made a face at Leon as he chugged down his beer. They expected you to come along, but you hung back, giving Leon one more chance to redeem himself.

“What’s up with those two?” he muttered in annoyance.

You held his gaze impassively. “What took you so long?”

“Is this a trick question or what?” He couldn’t look you in the eyes as he tried to evade your quizzing.

But you didn’t let up, not budging from your place until you had an answer.

He threw his hands up in exasperation. “There was a queue, okay?”

A rush of disappointment and heartache surged through you. The least he could’ve done was to be honest with you, but he hadn’t even managed that. He was lying directly to your face, which currently felt as if it had been given a tight slap in humiliation. With whatever dignity you had left, you excused yourself from the table, heading over to the Redfield siblings, as Leon looked on in incredulity and disbelief.

You spent the rest of the evening with Chris and Claire, who were mostly interested in the free food and drink, and knew a couple of the chiller, more down-to-earth musicians on a personal level. In an unexpected turnaround of events, you were actually having fun chatting with people who appeared to be on the same wavelength as you and making wisecracks about corporate functions like these.

In fact, it served as a fairly effective distraction from the boy you were pretending didn’t exist. He lurked around like a shadow, leaning against the walls in the corridors and the sides of the rooms. You saw him everywhere, hovering just within reach. Scowling moodily at you and your newfound friends, he tossed back a never ending supply of alcoholic drinks. You suspected he was on the verge of getting sloshed by now, and although a part of you was concerned about his well-being, you didn’t want to play the role of a babysitter, at least not for tonight.

Towards the end of the night, Chris and Claire had decided to take their leave and you would too, after getting some fresh air by the pool. However, this proved to be a mistake, as the minute you were left alone, you heard heavy footsteps shuffling up next to you. You felt a pit in your stomach, knowing well who it was before even facing the culprit.

“What did I do wrong?” Leon was slurring his words, and his eyes were glassy and bloodshot. The stench of alcohol on him was overwhelming.

Wrinkling your nose, you backed away, stating plainly, “You’re drunk, just take a cab home.”

“Don’t-” He grabbed your arm, attempting to steady himself. “Don’t walk away from me.”

“Leon,” you warned.

“What happened to us against the world, huh?” he retorted.

“Did you think about that when you ditched me to fuck around?” The accusation tumbled out of your mouth before you had a chance to rein it in.

His grip on you loosened, as guilt flashed across his eyes. “That- I, it wasn’t-”

“You’ve always been a bit of an asshole,” you interjected. “But a loveable one, who was also sweet and kind.” Tears started to collect at the corners of your eyes. “Now, you’re just completely horrible,” you spat, with a look of disgust plastered across your face.

Leon’s face contorted in anguish as he tightened his hold on your arm again. “Don’t say that.”

“I don’t like you like this,” you admitted, trying to break free from his grasp, as tears started to roll down your cheeks.

He tried to reach out with his other hand and caress your face, but you pushed it away. “Let go,” you demanded.

However, it seemed as if he couldn’t comprehend why you wanted to be as far away from him as possible. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “Can’t we just sort this-”

Then, something in you snapped. All the times when you had finally had enough and set your boundaries in the past, burning bridges along the way, came to a head. “No!” you yelled, shoving him off you, as he fell backwards and landed into the pool with a loud splash.

Some of the spectators laughed and jeered, as he floundered around mostly in shock, while you stormed off the site.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The next band practice session was awkward to say the least. You were running a few minutes late and when you’d reached, you could hear the shouting from outside the door to the studio.

“... sleeping with the enemy!”

“How is Ada an enemy?”

“You’re always messing things up for us!”

“Okay, break it up you two.”

Expelling a hefty sigh, you swung the door open, and the room fell so silent you could hear a pin drop. You could feel their gaze on you as you placed your bag in the corner before getting to your usual position behind the mic, making sure to avoid any eye contact with Leon. The festival was coming up in the next month, and on top of that, you still had a smaller gig to play in between then. The last thing you wanted was for personal issues to get in the way of professionalism, so you buried your emotions deep within the abyss.

“Hey, um, you, uh-” Leon croaked out, trying to get your attention, but you ignored him, turning instead towards Claire.

“Sorry I’m late, shall we get started?”

Despite regarding you with a look of concern, she obliged and Chris counted off before all of you jammed to the opening song.

It continued on like this, where you gave Leon the cold shoulder. You had stopped hanging out with him and only communicated when necessary. He didn’t realize how much he would miss your company until it was gone. Things felt duller and emptier without you. Whenever he wanted to share his joys, sorrows and just the mundane things that were happening in his life, he’d try to call you, only for it to go unanswered. He left you countless voice messages, each more desperate than the last one, ranging from a mixture of hurt, blame and grief. It had only been a little over two weeks, but he was starved and alone, without the person he could truly count on. The song you had been working on together remained unfinished.

During the smaller gig you were playing at, you rocked out with Chris and Claire near the back, instead of vibing with Leon at the front. Maybe you were being petty with the way you were treating Leon, but he hadn’t given you a proper apology since the incident. The chemistry and connection between the two of you on stage was lost. Nonetheless, you gave the performance your all, and the fans went wild, so much so that when you crowd surfed, you ended up with shredded leggings and a bloody mouth. A random fan tried to grope you, but security intervened and you were dragged back up on stage by Leon, whose eyes were clouded with worry and apprehension. However, the adrenaline numbed the pain and you finished the gig on a high note, leaving the crowd buzzing with exhilaration and the sound of thunderous applause. It was a confidence booster and a great way to warm up for the festival gig.

Backstage, Claire helped you with cleaning the cut on your lip, as you reassured her that you were fine and such injuries were inevitable when you threw yourself headfirst into the crowd. She made you promise not to pull that stunt again, at least for the foreseeable future, before leaving you to finish up.

Just as you were heading out to regroup, an older, bearded man with neatly styled, graying hair and donning a snazzy waistcoat approached you.

“Brian Irons.” 

He held out a sleek, matte finish card with a crisp white background, his name in bold, black font in the center. Below, in smaller, elegant sans-serif type, were the record label he managed and his contact details. A thin, silver border surrounded the edges of the card adding a touch of sophistication. You took it from him, rapt by the design.

“Shall we speak somewhere in private?” he offered, beckoning towards one of the empty dressing rooms towards the end of the hallway.

In your elation and unwillingness to turn down such a timely opportunity, you jumped the gun, accepting his request immediately without waiting for your bandmates. Instead, you messaged them the details and informed them you would join them soon after.

“Amazing show,” he complimented. “You really are quite stunning.”

“Thanks, um, Mr. Irons.” You shifted your weight between both feet nervously, unsure of how to respond. Something in the way he looked at you made you seem like a prey caught in a bear’s trap and his words felt loaded.

“For you, it’s Brian, honey.” His lecherous tone sent shivers down your spine.

“Brian,” you echoed, slowly backing away to put some distance between you and the man.

“So, you kids wanna get signed, huh? Stars Rebellion, wasn’t it?” He advanced towards you with deliberate, measured steps, as if he were playing with his food at the dinner table.

“Y-yeah,” you stammered, regretting the decision you had made earlier and the direction this conversation seemed to be steering in.

“Well, I can certainly help with that…” 

Your back was flat against the wall now, as he sidled up to you, eliminating any space between you as he caged you in with his body. His breath felt hot and heavy against your cheek, and reeked of coffee and cigarettes. As his hand rode up your thigh, you closed your eyes, holding your breath as a nauseating wave crashed over you and you tried not to puke.

“The fuck’s going on here?” A sharp, biting voice sliced through the air like a knife.

Brian pulled away and you saw Leon by the doorway of the dressing room seething with fury and a dangerous glint in his eye.

“Hey, easy there, kid. Just getting acquainted, that’s all.” Brian tried to laugh it off as a joke, but Leon wasn’t having any of it.

“Get away from her,” he ordered, his steely demeanor unrelenting. “Now.”

Brian backed off, but came up to Leon threateningly. “Talking back to me like that?” he sneered. “I’ll make sure you’re ruined, punk.”

Leon took a step closer, issuing an unspoken challenge. “Yeah? Go ahead, sue me.”

At this, Brian cocked his fist back before taking a swing at Leon. Leon ducked to avoid the blow, shoving him aside as he unleashed a quick jab which connected with Brian’s nose. Brian fell to the ground, whimpering in pain while covering his face with both hands. Blood trickled down, staining his shirt as he cowered before Leon.

“Touch her again and I swear to god I’ll kill you,” Leon hollered. “You hear me?”

Brian nodded furiously as Leon walked briskly across the room, wrapping his arm around your shoulder before leading you out with him. Once you were at a safe distance, he cupped your face in his palms, examining you for any further signs of injuries.

“You okay? Did he hurt you?”

You didn’t respond, instead you clung to him in a tight embrace as your body trembled uncontrollably. He held you against his chest, resting his chin on your head as he stroked your hair soothingly. Both of you stayed there for a while, locked in each other's arms, until he suggested, “Let’s get you home.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

When Leon had informed Chris and Claire about the events that had transpired, they vowed to keep a closer watch on you and each other. There was now an agreement that if the whole band could not be present at a meeting, then at least two people at the minimum should be there.

Your band had upped the intensity of the practice sessions, as the date of the festival loomed nearer. However, when Jill spontaneously announced that she was organizing a house party at her place, all of you jumped at the invitation, seeing it as a way to let off some steam.

At the moment, you and Leon were in this weird, intermediary state of being not quite friends, yet not quite on opposing ends either. It seemed as if it was eating away at him inside, since the minute he saw you at Jill’s place, he weaved through the throng of familiar faces and approached you, asking if you were ready to talk about the elephant in the room. It wasn’t possible to keep ignoring him forever and you were tired of all the arguments and drama that had occurred lately. So, you decided to let him into your life again, or maybe just a foot in the door for now.

In one of the quieter rooms of the house, you sat beside Leon as he initiated an apology for the first time for his prior actions. “I know it’s not enough, but I’m sorry, I really am.” He swallowed a lump in his throat. “I was a complete dick-”

“Yeah, you were,” you replied testily. “I panicked, when you, um, took your time.”

“What? Shit.” He looked down at his hands in shame, balling them into fists. “I’m so sorry. I really didn’t want that to happen to you.” 

Clenching his jaw, you saw him drown in a sense of self-loathing. “God, I keep fucking things up. Please-” He took your hands in his, squeezing them as if he were proposing. “I’ll make it up to you, just give me another chance to prove it.”

“I missed you,” he whispered. “A lot.” It was as if a dam had broken, and he couldn't stop himself from pouring out all his admissions. “You weren’t talking to me, you weren’t returning my calls…”

“Whenever something stupid came up, all I could think about was how much I wanted to tell you about it.” His eyes glazed over, as if he were recalling a distant memory. “Guess I kinda took you for granted.”

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you made yet another decision against your better judgment. Although you had no guarantee that he would not repeat the same mistake, you placed your trust in him again, hoping that this time he would treat you as you deserved. 

“Okay.” You nodded, offering a weak smile. “We’ll try again.”

You yelped as he suddenly gathered you into a snug embrace, grinning widely from ear to ear. “I got you back,” he murmured into your ear.

“Don’t make me regret it,” you teased half-jokingly.

“Guys, get your free shit! Oh-” 

You and Leon quickly disentangled yourselves from each other as you saw Jill staring with her mouth hanging open. “Did I interrupt something?”

“No!” Both of you exclaimed in unison.

Jill rolled her eyes, her face etched with doubt, though she didn’t probe further. “Anyway, downstairs! First come, first served.” She jerked her thumb in the direction behind her, before trudging off to the next room.

“You wanna?” Leon gave you a knowing smile.

“Hell, sure, why not?” You shrugged, once again erupting in laughter with the boy you wanted to cuddle with and strangle at the same time.

So, that was how both of you ended up lying next to each other, strung out on a mattress facing the window. You knew the drill. Jill’s housemates were creative types whose generosity knew no bounds. House parties with them involved usually meant a certain supply of free drugs, which people could choose to engage in recreationally. You figured you were being very rock’n’roll by doing it, but sometimes you enjoyed how open they made you feel, like you could loosen up and forget about the things bothering you.

As usual, you and Leon had taken the same pills as before, both of you agreeing to take care of each other throughout the duration of the high. He held your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, as you giggled over a topic you had been discussing.

“Ready to watch the curtain breathing contest?” he chuckled.

“There.” You pointed in front of you, indicating that the shades were now moving on their own, like ripples in the tide.

“Atta girl.”

It felt nice like this, laying beside him. You could talk to him about anything in the world and he’d listen intently to you. That’s when you thought it was a good idea to make your confession. 

“I’ve liked you for a while now,” you gulped, your heart constricting though the urge to reveal your secret was stronger. “As in, more than a friend.”

He angled his head towards you, gazing at your expression with an affectionate smile. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“Leon Scott Kennedy, asking me why-?” you snorted, clamping your free hand over your mouth as you struggled to hold in your cackles. As if he wasn’t aware he had a reputation for sleeping around with no strings attached. “I didn’t want to be just another notch on your bedpost.”

He tutted and sighed. “You wouldn’t have been. It’s different… with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re one of the few people who’d tell me exactly as it is, you care to listen,” he explained. “It just feels right, being with you, and… I trust you.”

You were reluctant to take what he had said at face value, after all both of you were tripping. As if sensing your hesitance, he professed, “I like you too, a lot.”

Still, a part of you denied it. “You’re just saying that.”

He groaned in vexation. “Am not.”

“Are too.”

Narrowing his eyes at you, he huffed in defeat, “Look, ask me again tomorrow when we’re sober, okay? Pretty sure I’ll say the exact same thing.”

“Fine,” you conceded. “You better not try anything right now though, ’cause I bite.” Baring your teeth, you snarled at him playfully.

“Uh huh.” He burst out laughing. “You’re kinda high off your face, aren’t you?”

“Just a little.” You winked.

“Alright, let’s try to get some sleep,” he grunted, shifting to his side as he extended his arms towards you like an invitation. “No funny business,” he promised.

You relented, nestling yourself into his arms with your back against his chest. He dipped his nose into your hair, breathing in the peace of the moment. Closing your eyes, you drifted off to sleep, your bodies spooned together in perfect symmetry.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The first rays of the morning light filtered in through the curtains, as you awoke to the collective chirps of the dawn chorus. You squinted, pressing a palm over your eyes to shield yourself from the sun, as you stretched yourself out against Leon’s sleeping body and yawned groggily. He stirred a bit from your movement, but easily fell back into slumber, snoring deeply. You remembered everything you had disclosed to him the night before and it scared you. What if he didn’t feel the same way when he woke up? What if it had all been a mistake? How would you be able to look him in the eye now? You felt anxiety rising in your chest.

Stealthily, you lifted his arm off you, creeping out of the bed and making your escape before you had to face the consequences of your actions. Grabbing your stuff, you snuck out of the room, tiptoeing so no one noticed you exiting the front door of the house.

It was about an hour later when Leon woke up, confused to find you missing from the mattress with him. Though in your rush, you had accidentally left behind your notebook, which you carried around with you everywhere to jot down inspiration for song lyrics. Picking up the chestnut brown, leatherbound journal, curiosity got the better of him as he flipped it open to the page you had bookmarked.

As he skimmed across the words you had scribbled down in your off-beat, cursive handwriting, he gradually realized that they were the draft lyrics to the song you had been previously working on together with him, before the temporary break in your friendship. He re-read the text again to catch the meaning between the lines. It was then that it struck him, you had essentially composed a love letter from within, expressing the depth of your feelings and yearning for him. It made his heart ache that you had been keeping this from him the whole time and he had been blind to it all.

Tapping your name on his mobile screen, he called you right away, but it went straight to voicemail. Fuck. What were you afraid of? He thought he had been clear in how he felt about you last night, but it seemed like you had gone into hiding again. 

Showing up at your place directly after this may cause you to retreat even further, but he was determined to win you over somehow. A plan began to hatch in his mind, as he drove home with your book in the passenger seat. Despite his exhaustion from the party, he set out to work on the music for the lyrics you had written, spending the rest of the day and even pulling an all-nighter to finish it.

After about a dozen energy drinks and cups of coffee, he marched up unannounced to the door of your dormitory, where you shared a room with another final-year student from your class, rapping on it several times for good measure. Your roommate opened the door, but her expression gave everything away before she had the chance to concoct any sort of tall tale. She could never really keep a poker face.

Placing his arm against the door to prevent it from closing on him, he called out your name. You appeared in his view then timidly, mumbling to your roommate that you would handle it. She packed up a few things and left, giving you and Leon some privacy.

“Your book.” He passed it over to you, before setting his guitar case down by your bed. “Open it.”

You glanced briefly at him in mild bewilderment, but did as he asked. It flopped open to a page with a deep crease in the center, naturally showing how frequently that section had been revisited. You gasped when you saw a bunch of chord notes written below the lyrics you had penned down from earlier. Your complexion turned a light shade of scarlet upon realizing that Leon had discovered your innermost thoughts, but there was no awkwardness in his behavior towards you, he was calm and collected.

Unzipping the case, he took out his acoustic guitar and perched himself on the edge of your bed. Resting the instrument on his thigh, he grasped its neck, tilting it slightly as he strummed a couple of opening chords.

“I pieced together the melody for this. Maybe you can join in when you’re comfortable,” he suggested.

It seemed he had memorized the entire song by heart, as he didn’t need your notebook for guidance. His mellow, honeyed voice cascaded through the room as he serenaded you with the song both of you had crafted, albeit separately. Now, you were coming together to bring it to life.

Seating yourself next to him, you harmonized with his vocals, pouring the entirety of your emotions and every moment of longing you had built up within you into the music, until the final note trailed off. Throughout it all, Leon had observed you closely, captivated by the raw, unfiltered quality of your voice and the vulnerability you displayed in your delivery of the lyrics.

His gaze lowered from your eyes to your mouth, as he leaned in, brushing his lips gently against yours, kissing you tenderly. Bringing his hand to your cheek, he caressed it, coaxing soft sighs and moans which he returned as you reciprocated the kiss. Panting as he came up for air, he traced your bottom lip with his thumb, feeling every dip and groove, as if mesmerized by its outline and shape. He didn’t need to utter a single word for you to understand that his feelings for you mirrored those you had confessed in the song.

Closing the distance, he pressed into your lips again, this time more fervently, as the kisses grew in intensity. His nose nudged against yours and you felt his warm breath tickling your skin, as he grasped the back of your neck, taking you deeper, breathing every essence of you in. Clutching his shoulders, you parted your lips slightly as he licked along the entrance, allowing his tongue to meet yours, twirling around it as saliva coated your lips, forming a glistening string between the two of you when you pulled away.

Grazing his knuckles delicately across your cheek, he asked, “Do you believe me now?”

You smiled, claiming his lips with your own in response.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The next time you performed the song live was at the festival, where thousands had gathered to watch the impressive lineup of bands. Chris and Claire had fallen in love with it when you and Leon had showed it to them, and were keen to expand the band’s range into something that delved into the territory of rock ballads.

All four of you wondered how it would be received by the audience, as it was rather different from the punk rock style your band was known for. Even so, you were psyched to finally showcase it to the public.

It was the song you ended with on your setlist, and the one which created such a poignant, special atmosphere, that it became a memory you would treasure forever. The hall fell into hushed anticipation as Leon plucked his guitar strings under the soft glow of the stage lights. Each note resonated deeply, minimalistic and stripped back, which added to the earnesty of the music.

Your voice opened the duet, intimate and haunting, as the melody unfolded like a story being told, rich with longing and a melancholic beauty that ached. The audience stood there entranced, as a soulful rhythm built up with the entry of the bass guitar and drums, adding another layer to the sound.

Leon moved towards you, sharing your mic as he sang his part, cementing a bond between you. Locking eyes with you, he pressed his forehead against yours, mingling sweat and tears as you both continued singing into the same mic, your heartfelt lyrics heavy with emotion. Some of the older people in the crowd sparked their lighters, while the younger ones whipped out their mobile phones, swaying them in time to the music, until everything was awash in a sea of flickering lights.

Your lips and Leon’s were barely touching as the last notes lingered in the air. His faint breath fanned across your mouth, as he swept his fingertips along your jawline, resting them under your chin. The space was thick with palpable tension, and your stomach fluttered just as it had the first time he had kissed you. Like a magnetic pull which he could not resist, he placed his lips over yours, kissing you again and again. It was as if the world had paused, just for the two of you. 

Singing this way no longer reminded you of punishment and shame, but rather of the connection you and Leon had. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he led you off-stage, past the phenomenal reaction of the crowd and the fist bumps shared between Chris and Claire.

Ada came around not only to congratulate him, but also to test the waters and seize the opportunity to flirt. Despite that, he held onto you tightly, maintaining a suitable distance from the woman he had previously been infatuated with, yet feeling nothing deeper compared to what he felt for you. It took him more than half a year, an explosive fallout and a few weeks of your absence to realize that. She smirked and shook her head, walking away as Wesker continued to ignore you.

Some things never change, yet some things had.

“How about some time alone?” he proposed. “Just us.”

Us. It was always meant to be about us.

You nuzzled your nose gently with his. “Yeah, just us.”

[mci-writing]

heyy~ may i habe, hcs nsfw of senku, tsukasa, and gen fucking their s/o in the kitchen? like senku you guys fucked up something and waiting on an order, tsukasa takes you while youre making breakfast or something, and gen uses cream from a pastry youre making to lick it off your body? thank you ily i hope i did this right lol.

This has been years in the making, huh?

Sexy Kitchen Times (w/ Senku Ishigami, Tsukasa Shishiou, and Gen Asagiri):

TW: smut, modern/no petrification/post petrification au, small bit of bondage in Gen's part (he ties reader's wrists to the bedpost), no beta whoops, overstim in Senku's part, Tsukasa fucks his s/o next to a still hot stove 🤷🏾‍♀️

Ishigami Senku:

You had tried warning him from the get-go that substituting the recipe's ingredients with chemicals from his lab would be a horrible idea (esp when he pulled his Bunsen Burner seemingly out of thin air), but nooo he wanted you to trust the science process bc he was more than 1 billion percent sure it would work

Now you were standing in the middle of a nearly destroyed kitchen while ordering from the noodle place down the block, sending your lover a glare he knows a little too well when science experiments that involve you go horribly wrong

He hugs you from behind after cleaning up most of the mess, burying his face in your neck as he pulls you closer to him

This was what your friends deemed the affection maneuver, a move Senku only makes when he knows he might be sleeping on the couch for the night

"Y'know, it's so sexy when you get mad like this, dragonfruit" He'll teasingly whisper along the shell of your ear, pressing soft kisses into your skin while his fingers rub sensual circles into your hips

And for the moment, you completely forget about the kitchen debacle when his lips meet yours, turning you in his hold and helping you settle on the counter. He tugs your top off between kisses, nipping at whatever skin he can reach while his one of his hands happily move to fondle your chest

And, like always, it ends with you riding his cock (bc his stamina maxed out smh), your hands gripping onto his thighs for dear life as his tip nudges at a certain sensitive spot while he times the delivery guy through calculating the speed of your rocking and the pitch of your moans, who is definitely 10 minutes late this time

Your brain is mush by the time the food does get there, Senku happily coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of you with a sweet "Just one more? So I can make it up to you?". It's the closest he can get to you forgetting the whole conundrum and he gets to watch your face shift in overstimulated pleasure

He does still sleep on the couch later that night, but it's only for a couple minutes before you cave and make him eat you out as payback (which you both know is just going to lead to a round of competitive sex, but I'll mind my best)

Asagiri Gen:

You'd already had an idea this would happen when Gen kept making innuendos about the glaze you'd made for your donuts earlier in the day, but a part of you wasn't really taking his words seriously until he'd told you to wait on the bed

I mean, you couldn't really go anywhere with your wrists tied to the bedpost, but you could hear the small happy pep in his step as he made his way back to you with the icing bag nuzzled snuggly in his hold

"Baby, look what I've got," He eagerly coos as he towers over your body, setting his knee beside you as he slides in closer on the bed. He holds the tip over your lips, squeezing enough for a little bit of the sweet concoction to spill out.

After your tongue swipes the small bit away, he gets to work setting a small dollop on each of your sensitive parts, stopping to admire his work once he finishes

He ensures that you've been licked clean of any stick sweet residue by the time he's finished, keeping track that you're thoroughly prepped before nestling into your welcoming heat

And he happily covers certain areas of your body with the cream again before fully allowing himself to go to town, enjoying the way his cum mixes with the sugary substance on your skin

Shishio Tsukasa:

"Ts-Tsukasa..." You manage out in an airy tone, tightly gripping the counter as the head of his cock nudges at your entrance. The small sounds you make as he pushes the head all the way in only make him smirk

He leans forward as he pushes fully inside, taking the time to cut the stove off before his hand softly grips your hips and drags you back against him.

"You shouldn't have teased me so much," He softly states into your ear, tugging on the lower back tie of your apron so it hangs freely from your body by the tie around your neck. His right-hand moves to grab at the plush fat of your ass, a smack sounding as he brings his heavy palm down and squeezes as soon as he gets a good grip on it

He easily slides in and out from the perfect combination of spit and lube, the tight hold on your hip allowing him to push and pull against you as he pleases

Each spill of his name from your lips only encourages him to go faster, the breakfast you'd been hard at work creating forgotten with each deep thrust he made inside, stars clouding your mind

[alta1red]

EDEN. | 𝑰𝑴𝑨𝑮𝑰𝑵𝑬 II. Your very presence,

𝑺𝒀𝑷𝑵𝑶𝑺𝑰𝑺 : THE HAZBIN HOTEL CAST AND THEIR OPINION OF YOU.

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮 : ( None that I'm aware of, although do inform me if I missed something ! )

𝑷𝑻 : II

♪

" Well.. Uh, Eden ! I can happily say you've got the job ! " Charlie happily announced, seemingly overflowing with excitement, observing the pep in her step as she walked towards you —she took your hands in hers as she shook it with vigorous energy.

" I'm so happy you joined us, here at Hazbin Hotel ! "

— Bingo, just what you needed to hear from the 'Little Morningstar' Herself. After all, your resume was damn near flawless, ( although erasing abit of your lore, like, you being an important figure up in the clouds ! ) Denying such a resume would be an utter loss the hotel of course !

— The hard part, however, is pretending to be a Sinner —And while sure you're not exactly a Saint, you've been drilled with proper manners, and overly kiss-ass behavior from Michael's, " How to be a proper Angel 101, " Lessons.

— Working as a gardener was easy in the long run, you've been taking care of plants for millennia — Although you could say a little One-Eyed Darling is abit iffy with the soil you had staining and dirtying your uniform, and well.. the dirt in general, but ! You were of course polite, being a dirty slob was incredibly embarrassing !

— So, just to ease Niffty you kept the dirt, soil, and grime all In the outside. ( Exception is the dirt, soil, and grime in the flower pots.. ) You often lead her to bug species that were harmful to your plants, finding amusement as she ruthlessly, and painstakingly kills their mother's. Maybe Charlie should say that she's only 75% percent harmless ?

— Your relationship with the Daughter of the Morningstar was, peaceful, maybe? You often let her rant to you about mundane stuff, finding her little shows and musicals, ballad's and all the such abit endearing, often leading you to follow the rhythm, and tapping your finger along to the beat as she sings, ( although you never joined such activities, ) You notice alot of her quirks, like her using hand gestures, her mushing out on a few words, ( and how she's abit naïve to how some of the residences -sinners, ehem, if not most of them were rather unredeemable. )

— She often reminded you of a certain Seraphim from up there, their resemblance being uncanny, but nostalgic. And due to you getting used to the Seraphim's personality you found it relatively easy to get along with Charlie, your day to day chats, and her suggestions for flowers were a delight, ( Let's hope she doesn't find out a few of the flowers she suggested, and you planted, don't belong in Hell. )

— She thinks that you're reliable, and a very comforting person to be around —She truly believes you deserve to be redeemed with how righteous and charitable you act, she considers you a sister, a person she can rely on when things go south, someone to have sibling conversation's with !

— Although, her girlfriend —Angel in disguise, hehe. You noticed Vaggie held a tense atmosphere around you, not that you minded, you were new, and 'Sinners' aren't exactly to be trusted, but you both kept a respectful and polite attitude towards eachother, in respect of Charlie.

— As time passed however Vaggie found you oddly nostalgic, your behavior.. and your mannerisms were too 'pristine' and 'polished' almost as if you'd been drilled with lessons for so long, or, maybe Vaggie was just imagining it, you held an aura which screamed 'Noble' in some way, but with the way you carried yourself..

— Vaggie had to just be imagining when she saw Blue Blood drip down from your finger, right?

— Now, moving on to Alastor; he was polite to all the ladies in the Hotel ( Including you, ) however you always notice how his shadows linger longer than they're supposed to, ( Is he watching ? ) He held a dignified aura within him, his voice —Static, that's what you could hear, and if you didn't pay much attention maybe you would've missed how there was a laughing track, only heard if you payed more attention than you should.

— Your first meeting with him, was.. well, eerie.

— " Alastor'— He grabbed your hand and shook it, the action causing you to tumble abit, before gaining composure —' Pleasure to be meeting you dear, quite a pleasure ! " He greeted, giving you his all too famous never ending smile. You smiled back politely, and then said, " Eden.. Although you could call m— nevermind, I'm the new gardener, honor to meet you Sir ! " You gave back the same energy, it's impolite to not too after all.

— Alastor enjoys your modest fashion, and how polite you are, quite a darling ! ( He doesn't like you. )

— For Angel Dust's opinion however.. A prude, with a clean streak ( how'd ya even end up in hell with such a goody-goody personality ? ) Sure Toot's, everyone has their own secrets but being so mysterious in a place like Hell ? Might aswell just be open with your crimes and all, not like anyone has the ability to judge ( Hell is Hell, )

— Although your company ain't too bad, after all —You give 'hella good advice, however he recognizes that look on your face —You're hidin' something big-time, and even then with your reckless and ditzy actions he KNOWS you aren't tryna' hide it at all.

— Husk.. He pays zero mind to you, often having chats some nights when you go for a swig- or -two, you were cryptic —In a different way, unlike a certain Smiles for Day's. You weren't eerie, neither creepy, just too secretive, everyone's knows it.

— Husk knows how Alastor feels about you, and to be honest, it ain't pretty. Consider how he knows about Alastor's certain feelings about someone being far more powerful, being petty, and all.

— But how much longer until everyone knows how deep of an entity you actually are?

FIN.

[luvmake]

❝RIVALS-TO-LOVERS IN A MARTIAL ARTS TRAINING ACADEMY❞

requested by: @habibaxdd

tag me when used!

— "That was pretty good." "You? Giving me a compliment? Oh, you've really lost it now."

— A winning over B and, subsequently, rubbing it into their face. A gets all up in B's personal space just to rile them up because A enjoys the sight of B blushing because of them.

— "Funny how you're always getting floored." "Funny how you haven't won a single match in the past month."

— Intimate moment where A needs help with a certain move, and B says, "Sure, I guess an amateur like you does need help." But then they both end up really close, and B feels like they're getting lost in A's eyes. They're both blushing, all caught up in the moment, and then immediately pull away in disgust when they realize.

— "Your stance is weak, and your reaction time is absolute trash." "Excellent pep talk, as always."

— "Wow, your form just gets worse and worse every day." "And you just get more and more insufferable."

— Lots of insults to cover up the slow growth of certain emotions.

— Moment where A gets struck down pretty badly, and B almost instantly runs over while frantically asking if A is alright. A reassures B they're fine and tries to brush them off because A doesn't want to rely whatsoever on B. However, B insists on taking them to the infirmary.

— "You idiot! You could have gotten seriously injured!" "And what do you care?"

— A saying something really hurtful in the heat of the moment which leads to B running off because it really hit a nerve. A is left heartbroken, but they don't understand why...they hate B, don't they?

— A and B get paired to train together, and it gets intense between them, trying to assert who's better than the other. A pins B down, and it's in that moment where they're so close that time stops. Right then and there, they realize all that hate has bloomed into something else.

— It will take ages for them to admit they like each other. Transitioning from once competing and spewing hateful words to suddenly realizing they have underlying feelings is a slow process.

— "You're so pretty like this." "Did I strike your head too hard or...?"

— "Do you want to be my partner?" "For training today?" "Yeah...that's what I meant."

— One of them is truly the most reluctant to admit their feelings, but they do eventually, and then they start dating. The whole academy is flabbergasted because how A and B went from wanting to rip each other's heads off to holding hands in public is beyond their understanding. Even the teacher is befuddled, but the teacher most definitely knew something was brewing between them.

— "I want to kiss you so bad right now." "Right after you shower first."

— "Do you still think my stance is weak?" "Yeah, but that's what I'm here for."

— A kissing B out of the blue to which B says, "What was that for?" and A replies, "At least your reaction time is getting better." For this, A gets a good nudge from B.

— Practicing together while bantering playfully. A would say, "You're taking this seriously, huh?" To which B replies, "You know I don't like to lose, love." while smirking.

— "You've got a bruise on your knee..." "Yeah, wanna kiss it better?"

— "C almost kicked me in the mouth today during practice." "I would still love you, teeth or no teeth."

– In general, they're such playful lovers.

[avocado-writing]

i absolutely ADORE the little universe you've made for the light the dark and the spaces in between and i don't really have any specific requests, all i'm requesting is whatever work in that universe that you've already come up with or if you do get an idea for something for my favourite throuple this is an excuse to post it hihi

Notes: first of all, fav throuple? 🥹 I’m asking for your hand in marriage. Second of all I got an ask about reader being nonbinary in this series but this fic explicitly discusses them being AFAB (but GNC, could be read as trans or not). set in TLTDATSIB verse, ish, the time period is a bit wonky (14thC ish) — consider this an au where reader follows aziraphale to France after their initial meeting, finds Crowley there too and everyone is pointing at each other like that Spider-Man meme going !! Immortal!!!

words: 2k

rating: T (sex references, mild peril)

pairing: crowley x reader x aziraphale

tags: TLTDATSIB, polyamory, Fem/Masc!Crowley, Fem/Masc!Aziraphale, GNC!Reader, historical, jousting

“Are you sure? It’s terribly dangerous.”

“Aziraphale,” you sigh, “I don’t do it because it’s safe.”

“Well why do it at all?” she whines, grabbing onto your hand beseechingly. Crowley looks up from where she’s been admiring her reflection in your armour. You turn to her for support, instead she shrugs. 

“I don’t know. For glory? For honour? To prove that I can?”

Aziraphale glares at Crowley to join in but is met with the same reaction. It seems that Crowley is determined to stay neutral in this scenario. How annoying. Just like a demon to find the most awkward solution for both parties.

You tie the linens around your chest a little tighter. Under your full plate it should be difficult to tell the shape of your body but you don’t want to take any chances. Aziraphale pouts and you sigh, turning back to her to take her hand in earnest.

“My darling, I’m not like either of you. When they look at me, they will only ever see one thing. I can’t change my body around and be whoever I want to be. I have to take these measures to be viewed as anything other than what I was when I came squawling from my mother.”

You cup her cheek and she nuzzles into your touch. 

“Besides,” you add, wickedly, “am I not good at wielding a lance?”

You grin, thinking back to the three of you laying together last night. Aziraphale harrumphs and Crowley laughs at her.

“They’ll be fine, angel,” she finally pipes up. Aziraphale doesn’t seem certain but finally relents, letting Crowley adjust her surcoat and take her hand.

“Good luck,” Crowley says, but the smile on her face suggests she doesn’t think you’ll need it. You give her a wink.

“With my two ladies cheering from the crowd, how could I lose?”

You give them both a kiss goodbye before Crowley finally wrestles the angel away, likely to get her a drink and a pep-talk before the tourney starts. As they leave, your squire begins to enter, his face turning beet red as Crowley ruffles his hair.

“Hello, Oliver. Make sure our good knight doesn’t fall from his horse, will you?” she says as she goes. Oliver tries to form a sentence, fails, and winces as Crowley sways away. 

A tiny slip of a lad, you took on Oliver not only for his immense courage despite his small stature, but because you both shared a secret - one which you uncovered when accidentally walking in on him changing. You’d recognise a bound chest anywhere. You thought no less of him for it, and told him he needed not beg for your silence: you’d keep it gladly.

“Sire, I’m here to help you finish dressing,” he states, when he finally manages to get a handle over his own tongue. 

“Well timed, Oliver. Help me with this breastplate.”

He heaves and helps with the leather straps, buckling you in place. You’re swelteringly hot. Ah well, time for that to get even worse when you ride out into the sun. You take a moment to check yourself over, only noticing Oliver’s quietness when he fails to point out one of your pauldrons is loose. You furrow your brow and turn to him.

“What’s on your mind, lad?”

“Might… Might I ask a question, sire?”

“Me saying no has never stopped you before,” you jest, but when you see him scuff his foot against the floor, you drop down to be able to look him in the eye. “What’s the matter, Oliver?”

“Your ladies… you’ll fight for them both, yes? For their honour as one?”

“Yes, I will.” You don’t go into great detail about your relationship but you trust Oliver with the truth. He sees Aziraphale and Crowley clucking around you like hens before a joust all the time anyway, and the boy isn’t a fool. He can do the arithmetic of it.  

“And they’re happy with that arrangement?”

You laugh a little, but put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Those two love each other as much as they love me. My life would not be a happy one without them both in it, and they feel the same.”

Sacrilege, but really, little in this room would be considered holy by the church. And besides, you have an angel as one of the willing participants of your relationship. You think it’s probably fine.

Oliver nods. He seems to understand, but still appears like something else is weighing on his mind. You really do smother your smile this time.

“Oliver,” you tell him, gently, “I also think that you might be a bit young for Lady Crowley.”

He blushes.

🗡️

You can barely see with your helmet on, so you keep it under your arm for the time being. You cut the figure of a man well enough anyway so for the moment there’s no need to worry about your face being on show. In fact, you’ve gained a reputation for being quite handsome.

Handsome but very spoken for. Apparently there was a lady discussing giving you her favour to joust, and Crowley spilt wine all over her skirts. Then again, she did the same when a knight rode up to ask to fight for Aziraphale’s honour, and suddenly found that his helmet crest had inexplicably burst into flames. 

Crowley knows how to mark her territory.

You run a hand over your horse’s nose, humming a soothing little note as she nickers and whinnies.

“I know it’s hot, girl. Let’s give them a show and then we’ll both get out of this damned armour.”

You saddle up, letting Oliver pass you your helmet and your shield. You ride as a freelancer so neither of them are burdened with some noble’s crest; instead you ride under your own: a pair of wings, one white, one black. A little nod to the two who matter the most to you.

You ride onto the field as horns herald the start of the joust. You know a few of the knights competing, and are well aware of your first opponent - Kenelm the agile, a man you’ve faced several times over and are at equals wins against. He nods at you from his steed, hailing the crowd as he’s announced. You look across the seating, and see Aziraphale and Crowley in the front row. Where they always are, whenever you compete. With an ineffable inevitability.

“And, riding under his own banner, Sir Kerkylas of Andros!”

Even with her glasses on you know Crowley is rolling her eyes at your chosen pseudonym. You ride up to the pair of them, grinning.

“Be careful,” Aziraphale begs for the umpteenth time. She passes you her favour: a little ring, golden, set with a pair of wings on it. 

“I will be,” you say, kissing her hand, then quieter: “You do remember that I can’t die?”

“Yes, but we don’t know if dismembering will do you any good!”

Crowley reaches over to present you her token, a pin embellished with a silver snake. You stow both in your saddlebag. 

“I’ll buy you a drink if you take the helmet clean off his head,” she whispers. 

“You’re on,” you agree. Crowley reaches out to caress your face, then stops and retreats abruptly.

“Better not lay that on too heavily. I think I might kill your squire.”

A glance over your shoulder reveals that Oliver looks like he might combust. Taking mercy on the poor boy, you nod your goodbyes to the two of them and ride up to greet Kenelm.

“Ken! Didn’t think I’d see you back in the saddle so soon after that humiliating defeat in Dover.”

Kenelm rolls his eyes but holds his tongue.

“Ah, Kerk. Sorry, didn’t see it was you. I was blinded by the pomp of your armour. I forget that you need to compensate for something.”

Ha, if only he knew. 

Despite the ribbing the two of you exchange a smile.

“Good luck, Ken. And remember, aim the lance at me. Poor Cynisca was dreadfully irritable after last time, when it seemed you were trying to skewer her flank.”

He grimaces at being reminded of the faux pas before putting his helmet on and readying himself. You trot to your side of the tilt where Oliver is heaving up your lance. 

“You’ll win,” he says confidently, “Kenelm always rides worse the earlier it is in the day. If you can get a solid enough hit in, it’s over, one round.”

“I hope that your faith in me isn’t misplaced, Oliver.”

You helmet up, resigning yourself to see what little of the world you can through the frog-lip, and clutch your lance. It’s heavy but you’re used to it by now. 

An expectant silence settles over the crowd. Aziraphale buries her face in Crowley’s shoulder.

“Oh, I can’t look–!”

The flag is waved, and you charge.

🗡️

You reflect on how Crowley never bought you that drink. She insisted that knocking a man clean off his horse didn’t count as taking his helmet off. A technicality, flimsy at best - but Aziraphale was too relieved at your victory to argue either side. You went on to place second at that particular tourney, the fire of it inciting you to ride to victory in your next. 

You stopped for a while after that. It was doing Aziraphale in a little, and you loved him too much to keep his nerves that frayed.

But, nowadays, reenactments are becoming somewhat of a fad. Usually you find them a little gauche, and it’s more than a bit uncomfortable to relive some aspects of your past, but you never truly lost your love for jousting. So you allow yourself a little vice in it. Your heart aches whenever you’re reminded of Oliver, but you kept tabs on his family, and his descendants are doing quite well. One of them lives in London and works for a charity helping LGBT youth. It seems fitting. 

Plus, Aziraphale is a lot calmer about you jousting this way. 

“Are you alright?” you ask the man you just took off his horse. He looks a little winded and gladly takes your help getting up.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Think it’s just my pride that’s bruised. You’re really good at this!”

You beam.

“I’ve had practice.”

You exchange socials so that he can follow up with any questions he might have, then turn to take your horse back to the tent the organisers have set up for you. Aziraphale and Crowley are waiting. Your angel has an ice-cream for you, which he passes over before tucking into his own.

“Who was he?” Crowley sniffs, peering over your shoulder. You roll your eyes.

“Just some kid interested in the sport. Stop being jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” he says, jealously.

“You did marvellously, my love,” Aziraphale interjects. You smile at him.

“Thank you, darling. I can be a fiend with a lance when I want to be. Even if I am a little out of practice.”

“Hmm, not out of practice as of last night,” Crowley says and Aziraphale chokes on his soft-serve. It’s good to know that even after seven hundred years, your sense of humour hasn’t changed a jot.

“Oh, and,” you say, reaching into your bag, “your favours. Returned to you after they brought me luck.”

Aziraphale slips his ring back on, Crowley affixes the pin to his jacket. Your hands linger on each other’s, as they usually do.

“Let’s go get a drink.”

“You didn’t remove his helmet, so I’m not buying.”

“Oh, you utter bastard.”

-

taglist: @angiestopit@dazed-soul@smile-eywa@staygoldsquatchling02@underratedboogeyman@specter-soltare@candlewitch-cryptic@cool-ontherun-world@emilynissangtr@willbedecided@cool-iguana@bdffkierenwalker @ilyatan @civil-groupie@foolishprincipalitee

[northgambler]

iwaizumi x reader with #7 from the drabble list? and can you include the rest of seijoh 4 as bystanders pls 💗💗

a/n: it feels so good to finally write again!! thank you for being so sweet with your request, and i hope you like this 💖

word count: 503

Tonight was awesome. You were hosting an end-of-season dinner for the whole Seijoh team in your backyard.

After dinner, everyone was invited to stay for a lovely bonfire where all could wind down and have fun after another season of hard work. And, of course, the most handsome man you've ever known showed up, because he was also the ace of the team you had the honour of managing. The beautiful, wise, kindhearted Iwaizumi was in your backyard, strumming the guitar for anyone who had the pleasure of listening.

And right now you were admiring him through the kitchen window, while you were cleaning the last remains of the mountain of dishes left by the ravenous volleyball players. Done with the cleaning, you finally make your way out the house, with a bag of marshmallow in hand, exclaiming you're a master griller and will make the most golden delight they've ever tasted. That's when, with everyone's eyes on you, you start your evident stumble down the stairs.

Luckily enough, a strong pair of arms makes its way around you, and you collide with a firm chest. Of course, boy being boys, the whole team starts wolf-whistling at you guys and even Oikawa exclaiming something you can't really distinguish. That's when you gaze up and realize you've fallen in the arms of non-other than Iwaizumi. You immediately straighten up and apologize, but he keeps a hold of your arms, and you can even distinguish a slight blush on his cheeks. After a too long for comfort eye contact, you both pull away and keep on going your way.

The rest of the night was a bit awkward, why was everyone giving mini pep talks to Iwaizumi, why was everyone giving quick glances at you, what's going on?

Well, now you knew, because everyone was shuffling spots, to ultimately get you and your crush sitting next to each other. Wow, now everything was even more awkward, he couldn't even look at you, maybe he was too smitten by your charms? or maybe because EVERYONE was looking at you guys like you were a bunch of show monkeys. But after a while everyone got tired of the wait and got back to their business. You were finally left alone with the man next to you.

Panicking, you try to come up with something to say, that is when you feel a certain someone's hand softly grabbing yours. Now you're really panicking, is he really doing this? You almost pull your hand back but he stops you before saying,

"Can I kiss you?"

You nod, eagerly, and he doesn't waste any more time. He slowly shifts closer, and sweetly pecks you on the lips. It was a gentle, pure and honest kiss. And he was weirdly good at it. You felt good.

But that's when Matsukawa ruined the moment and yelled at you guys to get a room. little prick.

[thestitchywitchy]

PAC: What Effect Do You Have On Others?

Hello and welcome to my second PAC! I was not expecting the wonderful feedback from my first one. Thank you so much!! 💐 I hope I can continue putting out PACs everyone likes in the future 🙃 This one is about what effect you have on those around you and others you come in contact with. I hope you enjoy and feedback would be greatly appreciated as always 😊

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

To book a reading with me, please DM me or send an email to thestitchywitchy@yahoo.com with your inquiry 💌

My Links 🔮<- please support your witch💕 -> Masterlist

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Please take a breath, close your eyes, and choose a cocktail that stands out most to you. This is a general reading, so take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you feel inclined to choose more than one group, please feel free to do so.

Pictures are from Pinterest, credit to the owners. Editing was done by me.

Group One - Purple Cocktail | Group Two - Pink Cocktail | Group Three - Blue Cocktail | Group Four - Yellow Cocktail

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Group One 💜

2 of Swords, 5 of Swords (rx), The Chariot

Hello group 1, welcome to your reading! The effect you have on others is that you inspire them to take action. Where most people might avoid certain situations like apologizing when they’re wrong, taking responsibility over projects, or even just staying on path to reach a goal; you’re the one who goes out and pursues those things. You have a lot of determination and will power that inspires those around you but what they don’t understand is that it took a lot for you to gain this much control. You’re not letting hard choices and past mistakes take hold of you the way they used to and that is incredible of you, group one! That takes a lot of mental and emotional strength. What I see when hanging out with you is people getting inspired by your passion, like a leader making a speech at a pep rally. Lots of amped up energy but for a good cause. The unwavering calm in the chaos that people look to for answers. You could sway a crowd with your passionate words if you really wanted to. I feel that some of you may be activists, as well. Now that I think of it...if any of you have read "Magic, Lies, and Deadly Pies" your energy reminds me a lot of the character Melly. I definitely recommend that book! People look to you when it’s time to make difficult decisions. You seem to always have the answers and people can’t help but gravitate towards you. This is a good time to remind you that its ok to slow down every once in awhile, group one. There will always be a problem for you to solve after you get some much needed rest. Taking a breather is good for the soul🌬 I’m getting that some of you have this thing of going out of your way to find a mistake to fix. Some of you even go out of your way to start fights lol and Spirit is saying that you need to pull back from that energy a bit. Some issues aren’t worth your time and every conversation doesn’t need to turn into a debate, you know what I mean? Save that fire for the bigger issues. But other than that, you really know how to get people to kick it into gear and chase those goals! You've got great leadership qualities that I feel you should lean into more. Thanks for reading, group one! ☺️

Other intuitive messages for group one: 242; 424; purple hair; curls of either ribbon or hair; a city bus; Scorpio, Aquarius/11th house, Capricorn, Pisces placements; "Taco Tuesday"; library; bean bag chairs; meeting around a table/in a circle; study group kind of vibes

Group Two 💗

Queen of Cups (rx), The World (rx), Judgement

Hello and welcome to your reading, group 2! You have a very soothing and calming effect on others. There is something about you that makes people want to take their time to stop and smell the roses. People feel comfortable around you. Your vibe is very welcoming so it allows others to feel like they can open up to you. You may be a stickler for self care and self love, which i find to be so sweet. Over all, I’m just getting a really pleasant vibe from this group. When I try to envision hanging out with those who chose this group what I get is being surrounded by fluffy pink clouds, kind of an airy feel to the environment…time is moving by slowly but everyone has smiles on their face while chit chatting and eating finger sandwiches on comfy couches. Then we get a glimpse outside of the clouds where the rest of the world goes by in real time. There is so much hustle and bustle and it’s feels like you have to stick to a certain schedule. All that looks daunting so no one wants to leave the happy cloud space lol they just want to sit and hang out with you! You really know how to create a welcoming environment! I get the feeling that a handful of you like to host guests and parties. A lot of you have a knack for it. Your presence makes people want to slow down from their busy lives. People feel like they can share their inner feelings with you because you feel like a judgment free zone to them. I must warn to be careful with this because some people may become co dependent on you because of how safe you make them feel. I’m getting that it will be important for you to set firm boundaries with these individuals. Let them know when you aren’t emotionally available to take on their problems currently but will be at a later time. You’re definitely someone people go to when they need a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on. The giver or mom of the friend group. You make people feel safe, loved, and cared for so you may find yourself being surrounded by people who need healing often. But with all that you do for other people, you have to remember to take time to care for yourself as well. It’s been a pleasure, group two, but your reading has now come to an end. Thank you for being here 😊

Other intuitive messages for group two: 626; Pisces, Virgo, Taurus, 7th house, Cancer/4th house placements; 727; Alice in Wonderland -esque tea party; the Mad Hatter specifically; Small feet; dainty cookies; melty marshmallow in hot cocoa; a lot of small, cute, and whimsy imagery like fluffly bunnies made out of cotton candy lol

Group Three 💙

The Fool, Hermit (rx), 9 of Wands

Welcome to your reading, group 3, nice to have you here! The effect you have on others is that there is just something about you that makes people want to get out of their comfort zones. I think a lot of people have the tendency to people please because they're afraid of being alone, but you don't seem to have that issue and people are awed and inspired by that. You aren't afraid to walk this path alone and you often leave people wondering how you do it so effortlessly. You're really good about keeping firm on your boundaries with others. Some people get off put or maybe even butthurt by this because they don't understand your reasoning for doing so, but others respect it but worry that you may isolate yourself too much from others at times. I'm getting that they just want to spend more time with you but also they don't want to bother or disrupt you because you're off doing you're own thing. Some may think there's a naivety to your nature but I think you're just more private about your plans so this leads to people assuming this about you. You'd just rather walk to the beat of your own drum and not everyone gets it's, but that's ok. Keep doing you. When hanging out with you, I think you'd rather dive into deeper or obscure topics. It makes some people uncomfortable but for others, it gets them out of their comfort zones and they think about topics they don't normally think about. They really enjoy your viewpoint on things. It may be different from what they normally get in their typical daily conversations. It seems that a lot of people admire your courage, group three. You have a lot of originality that people wish they could pull off! You often enjoy your own company and you also don't really let other people's opinion obscure your own. By doing this, you've created a style or a vibe about you that's all your own. You're pretty resilient as well. It looks like a lot of you who chose this pile have had to struggle to keep their originality by either having to support themselves in a not so typical fashion or having to stand up for their sense of style or interests. You seem to always get lucky in your pursuits and it often leaves people wondering how you do it. Honestly, a lot of you in this group have a handful of haters in your midst lol. A good handful of people around you always expect you to fail in your endeavors so they get really surprised when they turn out in your favor. Good for you, pile three! Show those haters how it's done 😂 overall, you keep people guessing. People are interested in what you're up to next. Thank you for reading, group three!

Other intuitive message for group three: 818; caramel corn; team mates acting against each other; red and blue; roasted carrots; Capricorn/10th house, Gemini/3rd house, Sagittarius/9th house placements; plaid scarf; a potluck; smell of herbs on your fingertips; cheers like a toast; checking off a to do list; koalas

Group Four 💛

7 of Cups, Ace of Cups (rx), 10 of Pentacles

Hi there, group four, welcome to your reading! I'll jump right to it. You have a very dependable but at the same time illusionary effect on others. By this I mean that the people around you may not entirely know the real you and it seems that most of you are fine with this, for the most part! For those of you who are not, it's ok to show the real you and you should probably do it more often. Others will be a lot more accepting of the true you than you may realize. A lot of you in this group may be the people pleaser of the friend group, which isn't a bad thing but you should ask yourself if you're really content doing it... People see in you what you can do for them and that has an effect on them. They get excited about the possibilities. You may try to come off as wealthy, or over selling how much you really enjoy your job, or you often post about going out to eat, treating yourself or your friends to nice things, partying, etc... just really playing up your lifestyle. These are all lovely things and kudos to you for achieving them, but are you really happy and doing it for yourself? Or are you only doing it because you want people to believe you're happy and successful? A lot of people in your group like to take advantage of your good nature and need to do things for others. There is nothing wrong with doing things for others from the kindness of your heart. But with that, give yourself some respect by getting rid of toxic individuals and setting firmer boundaries for yourself. A lot of you like to paint a picture for others to see so that they may be distracted by who you are behind the mask. For the most part, people believe the image you're trying to portray. But for those closest and who truly care about you, they do worry about you burning out trying to keep everyone else happy. You don't need to make everyone else happy, dear. Your true friends will enjoy your company regardless of what you can offer them. You repress your emotions a lot and others can sense it but most of them aren't going to pry and pull it out of you. Spirit is urging you to be more vocal about things that are bothering you. what I'm getting is that, for a lot of you in this group, people find you to be a little bit naive. They think you have a lot of opportunities going for you but may feel you're not taking them as seriously as you could be. It seems that a lot of people are confused about how to feel about you, group four. On one hand, people see you as financially secure, successful, and that you have a good home life. But on the other hand, they get a vibe that you're not as happy as you try to come off to people and they wonder what it is you're hiding. For those of you who are ok with people not getting the full picture of you, keep doing you! For those of you who are not, Spirit is encouraging a change in how you present yourself to others. You'll be pleasantly surprised by the outcome. All right, that's it's for now group 4! Thanks for joining me ☺️

Other intuitive messages for group four: 123; purple perfume bottle; Pisces, Libra/7th house, Gemini, Virgo placements; adventures; starting over; spilled milk; something to do with either hunting or a trophy of sorts; “fair game”; take out menus; Snorlax the Pokémon; picking berries

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

All rights reserved to @thestitchywitchy. Thank you for participating in this pick a card reading 😊 if you liked this reading and would like to dive in further, please DM me for a $7.77 extended reading 💞

[emodialisse]

(Giving a tour on Octavius Industries, first year of Peter's internship)

Otto: Don't worry about leaving too much junk around here, as you can see it's very roomy, this is our main workshop area after all. You can tidy your office later, I'll just need to file some paperwork and have it delivered to my foreseeable suitor. She has shown much promising feedback coming from the health care org.

Peter: I honestly wish I could spit on my high school scientific initiation supervisor's face.

Otto: I won't stop you. Take a look, this is where we shall be. Impressive, won't you say?

Peter: Yeah, much. Especially for a start-up.

Otto: Well, I did get a reliable network after lots of peer reviews. We have everything we need here... And soon after I go through the pile of paperwork that is craving my attention now and then, we can hop into the thing I wanted to discuss with you after tomorrow's interview.

Peter: Oh, I didn't... Do you already have something going on? Oh, you're getting me all pumped up, Doc!

Otto: Alright, alright, let's dial it back a little bit. How could you tell?

Peter: Well, you must have! I mean, isn't that why you called me here?

Otto: Maybe I just enjoy your company.

Peter: Ha. I don't want to question you or anything, sir, the pep talk you gave me that afternoon really stuck to me, but I haven't got this kind of confidence to do something... In years, you know?

Otto: I understand that completely. Lend me some of that faith and I promise you, it won't disappoint.

Peter: Wow. You weren't kidding, it's chilling in here.

Otto: If the circumstances won't turn against us, we might start to warm up tomorrow.

Peter: Good thing I called off all of my compromises, but I do have gym training at six, every Tuesday, so...

Otto: Good to know you're one to keep in shape, but we do need to send a clean report to the org every week, I'm afraid, as I'm counting on not hiring anymore staff for now. I think you've got it covered.

Peter: Hell yeah, if you need help with paperwork, and I'm just letting you know, in my AT position at ESU, I was called the fastest man alive.

Otto: Don't worry about that, it's an stock of ideas for budget, counting that everything goes well with the ethics committee once we get the engines running on my next project.

Peter: With a place like this? External funding should be easy. This could fit the entire of my aunt's homy living room at Queens. How did you find it?

Otto: Oh, this used to be an auto repair shop. Back in the day it seemed like a pretty good deal. The man who sold it to me was a very... Colorful character. He only accepted being referred to as “Paulão”, although I'm pretty sure my pronunciation isn't spot on. He was very easy going, but the same couldn't be said about his partner.

Peter: Oh, so there was two owners?

Otto: I don't think so, no. He showed up only once, and it was the day Paulão would hand me the keys. Hm. He had a very remarkable taste for t-shirts, like they came straight out of kaleidoscope. He came with a taxi, but I'm pretty sure he was driving it. I haven't seen something like that since the 70s, it's funny to think about him now.

Peter: Gotta love someone whose dedicated to strike a first impression.

Otto: I hope this is also a nod to a certain TV celebrity we're getting all over the news these days...

Peter: You watch his show?

Otto: I don't change the channel.

Peter: Do you like it? I don't watch it. Just... You, know, I can see the appeal of his character.

Otto: Well... Then you could say I'm very... Curious, about his existence. Although it's not a topic we can explore much further, after all, the man prefers to be cover his face all times. No surprise that charlatan bouquet Jonah likes to sell it to scare us off. However there's not much performance to pass on a message, he's just showing off cool tricks.

Peter: Got it, “kids like him”.

Otto: Now you're putting words in my mouth. But it's not an entirely misguided assumption either, hm?

Peter: Whatever you say, Doc, I'm just following you.

Otto: I think that's enough for today.

Peter: Yeah, I need to beat it too, I had pick up May at F.E.A.S.T... a hour ago. Fuck.

Otto: Need a lift?

Peter: Thanks, Doctor, but I'm kind of scared of bikes.

Otto: What, never learned how to ride without training wheels?

Peter: When i was ten a kid beat my ass with a tire once and now I have nightmares every night.

Otto: Charming. Well then, don't waste no time.

Peter: Smell ya later!

Otto: You have such way with words, don't you?

Peter: I did try to get into poetry once. If I give you a taste, I can't promise you won't be swoon.

Otto: No thank you, you already had me with your bachelor's thesis, remember?

[furys-mercy]

Has your OC always had the same opinion of themselves or has this changed over time? Have they learned to love themselves - perhaps with the help of others - as their journey progressed? Or have the consequences of their actions only served to erode their sense of self-worth?

"Well tha's a weird question ta ask someone." Mercer quirks an eyebrow as he looks up from his work. "I'd wager I'm tha same as most people. Ain't really got anythin' new or interestin' ta say on the topic." ((Thanks for the ask! You've found something Mercer is not really capable of talking about at all. The truth of the matter is that he's never had a very high opinion of himself. Growing up in the Brume left him with a feeling of actually being nothing because he was treated as if he was nothing. That hasn't shifted too terribly much over the years, but has changed slightly. He will admit that he is skilled in certain areas, though he will always caveat that there is likely someone better. He also understands that he means something to the people who care about him but he doesn't seem to understand why they would care about someone like him. With all of that said, he's known to tell people how they are better than they give themselves credit for in what are, at least somewhat, moving pep talks, but then turn around and refuse to take his own advice or believe that his words could ever apply to him. This is a work in progress and there has been pretty significant improvement as time has gone by and I suspect that his return to Ishgard, his interactions with other brume rats, and his attempts to sort of face his demons, will lead to future growth as well. Since he can't very well argue that Brume Rats aren't trash and add "except me" on to it for the rest of his life.))

[bigsusreview]

LONG SEASON - Review #7

🎵 drugs drugs 🎵

song-wise, the word "long" can be a bit ambiguous. to some people, a "long" song is 6 minutes or more. to others, maybe 10 minutes is a good mark. for Fishmans, 35 minutes is where they decide to draw the line. what the fuck. to be fair, it's split up into 5 distinct sections, but it still comes together as a piece to be heard in one sitting. personally, i suggest turning all your lights off and listening with headphones at night for the best experience. that advice would be awfully convenient if i was a serial killer. unfortunately, i am not a serial killer. so, like, go fuck yourself or something.

structuring this like one of my other reviews isn't really possible here so i think i'm just gonna kinda ramble for a while. hopefully that's not too annoying.

psychedelic music has been a recent interest of mine, with King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard being my main introduction along with a couple bits and pieces from Radiohead and Car Seat Headrest. so at this point, i'd already warmed up to the idea of incredibly long epics as well as listening to something for a distinct vibe instead of just a jam i can toss into a playlist. i decided to listen to LONG SEASON because i want to eventually listen to 98.12.28 all the way through. just kind of a pep-talk track, right? right????? it's not like it would completely change my perception of certain kinds of music overnight, right???????

well, i don't think it was that insane, but it was still very impactful. my only regret is not listening to it sooner. i really could've used it more a couple weeks ago, honestly. sorta been in a rough spot mentally since the last review, but i've been feeling better as of this week, so that's good.

anyway, back to the song. it's extremely hard to describe any of it due to just how... magical it feels? it's like a piece of music like this shouldn't exist, yet it does. it's able to make you remember every good and even not-so-good time you've had with those you love or just by yourself. i wish i could explain the way i feel about this in a better way, but i really can't. all i can say is to please give this a listen even if you're intimidated by it. if you still don't feel like giving it a shot, i've got another piece of advice, sort of. it's more like an observation, but i think it may help anyway.

LONG SEASON has made me realize something. music can be art, yes. i've known that. music has no bounds, yes. i've known that, too. but now i know that music can test you. this song tests your endurance. it's not a difficult test, really, but it is a test. if you pass it, you're rewarded. however, passing doesn't mean just "getting through" it. you have to pay attention and really give the track a chance. and the reward for doing so in this case is something i think can only be described as bliss. this one is blissful. yeah, that works.

if you still don't get it, fair enough, everyone has their preferences, but i really do just want people to hear this one. i don't think what i've written has done it justice, exactly, but it's how i feel right now. at this rate, i really can't wait to hear the live version.

favorite tracks:

LONG SEASON

overall score: i'm still not putting a number on this, but it's really really amazing out of 10

again, sorry for the sporadic nature of this one. i listened to this track just the other day for the first time and have already listened another two times since. i'm not sure what i'm gonna do next, as these reviews are kinda getting harder and harder to write, so i might just do something a bit easy and potentially short.

[anonymityisfunwriter]

Begin Again

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Summary: You'd just about given up on love. You've spent eight months thinking all that love does is break, burn, and end. And then you're tricked onto a date with Bucky Barnes. On a Wednesday, in a cafe, you watched it begin again.

You take a deep breath in the mirror, smoothing down the skirt of your dress for the dozenth time. You kept looking down at your shoes, the words of your ex-boyfriend's snide comments still faintly echoing in your head. 

You shake it off, reminding yourself that you like these shoes. You like the added height, remembering how they used to make you feel so confident. 

You also remind yourself that you're just going to see Sam for a coffee. 

He's the kind of friend that'll give you a pep-talk when you need it. He'll tell you don't look ridiculous and that the extra few inches don't make you stick out like a sore thumb. 

You pat yourself down one more time, going through your mental checklist before you leave the house: phone, keys, wallet. You've never forgotten them before, but the idea that you might was always a little unnerving to you. Actually, living on your own had been a little unnerving. It had been an entirely new adjustment from sharing an apartment with your ex for more than two years. 

With one last deep breath, you turn the lock and walk out of your apartment. 

Though your car sits just outside your apartment and your car keys are already in hand, you suddenly find yourself walking past your car, opting to walk the few short blocks to the cafe to enjoy the beautiful day. 

You pop in your headphones, and the song that immediately starts playing is one that your ex told you many times he just didn't get. You push the thought out of your head, reminding yourself that you like this song. And that's what matters to you now. 

You smile to yourself as the crisp fall air blows right in your face, the slight chill a nice reprieve from the muggy New York summers. You've always had a certain affinity for fall, particularly the beginning of the season, you watch as the leaves begin to change color, some already on the ground as you round the corner to your destination. 

In spite of your leisurely walk, you still make it a few minutes earlier than you expected. You shrugged it off, after all Sam was a stickler about being early and now you could tease him about the fact that you made it before he did.

The small bell rings above you as you walk into the small coffee shop as the scent of ground up coffee beans overwhelms your senses. You take a few steps in, noting how quiet it is just after the morning rush. 

You stare up at the board, deciding to just go ahead and order before Sam got here.

"Sorry, are you in line?" a familiar male voice asks from behind you. 

"Oh, no, you go ahead," You shake your head turning around to allow the man to pass you. As you turn around, you realize why it's a familiar voice. "Oh, hey, Bucky, right?"

"Oh, hey!" he jovially greets. He internally curses his excited greeting, reminding himself to at least try to play it cool. Though he remembers you well from Sam's many get-togethers over the years, he doesn't you to think that he's some overzealous stalker. He also figures that the tiny crush he had on you was probably causing him to overthink something as simple as a hello. He clears his throat, hoping you didn't notice his momentary internal meltdown. "I haven't seen you around in a while."

"Yeah," you awkwardly chuckle, letting that line of questioning die. You quickly redirect the conversation because you don't really want to talk about how a messy breakup, apartment hunting, and then actually moving had taken up most of your time these last few months. Okay, maybe it was more than just a few months. "But I didn't know you lived around here."

"No," he shakes his head. "I'm up in Brooklyn. Just meeting Sam."

"Wait," you suddenly falter. "You're meeting Sam. Here?" 

Bucky's head tilts, wondering what was so odd about him meeting Sam here. "Yeah, why?"

"I'm meeting Sam here," you dumbly explain, pointing to the ground. "Sam doesn't even live around here."

"Shit," Bucky hisses under his breath, his eyes squeezing shut as he puts two and two together. The very specifically laid out, concrete plans with Sam, Sam asking Bucky to meet him in a neighborhood neither of them resided in. He sort of feels like an idiot for not putting two and two together earlier. "I'm just- I'm gonna call him."

"Okay," you chuckle, watching as he shuffles out of the cafe to call Sam. He stands in front of the large glass window, pulling his phone from his back pocket. You decide to turn around to give him a little privacy, and to make sure you don't seem like a weirdo staring at him as he tries to make a phone call. 

Though you already know what you're going to order, you stare up at the chalkboard menu like it's the most interesting chalkboard menu you've ever seen. You carefully examine every single stroke of colorful chalk, each fuzzy swirl behind the letters that show a corrected mistake.

You keep reading the board until, after a couple long minutes have passed, you hear the bell above the cafe door ring behind you, prompting you to turn around to hopefully get to the bottom of Sam's meddling antics.

You look at Bucky with an anxious smile and raised eyebrow. "So?"

"No," Bucky awkwardly chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "He, uh, didn't answer."

You shake your head, rolling your eyes as a scoff of mild amusement leaves your mouth. "Of course he didn't."

"I mean, we both came all this way, unless your boyfriend wouldn't be okay with that," Bucky offers, gesturing to the small table overlooking the large bay window.  

"Well, that's very considerate of you, but we, uh, we broke up. Like 8 months ago," you meekly explain. 

"Oh," he frowns, though you sort of get the sense that he already knew that. 

"It's alright. He was an ass." You look at the table seated right in front of the large window, giving a perfect view of the slow Wednesday morning for a moment before deciding to forgo your usual reservations and anxieties. "Yeah, we're both here. I'd- I'd like that."

"Great," Bucky smiles, gesturing to the same table you'd been eyeing. You pull your bag over your head as you shuffle to the table. You're about to reach for the chair when Bucky stops you. He pulls out the chair for you. "Oh, here let me."

It takes you a split second to recover from the surprising chivalry before you slide into the chair with Bucky's assistance, "Thank you."

You briefly wonder if he knows how nice that is.

"You're welcome." He slides into the chair across from you, before looking up at the chalkboard menu for himself. "You ever been here before?"

"Yeah, actually. And now that I think about it, I told Sam that this place had the best apple pie, which is probably how he knows about this place at all. I'm sorry about him by the way, he's..." you trail off, trying to find the right word to articulate Sam Wilson's eager meddling in his friends' lives.

"Involved?" Bucky finishes. 

"Involved? Is that your polite way of calling him a meddling asshole?" you joke, your voice a sarcastic mutter at the thought of Sam's 'involvement'.

A laugh abruptly leaves his mouth at your brazen joke. He looks back up at the menu, offhandedly remarking, "You're funny."

Hearing that compliment is a little strange to you, you can't remember the last time someone told you that. Your ex used to roll his eyes at your jokes, sometimes even making apologies for your sense of humor when you were in a group settings. "You think so?"

"Yeah. I do."

"What can I get for you today?" the barista suddenly asks, interrupting your conversation with a particularly ambivalent expression painting their face. 

When the two of you are settled with a hot beverage in front of the both of you and an assortment of pasties in the center of the table, the awkward undertone of the pseudo blind date has long since faded. It's still mostly quiet. Bucky asks you what you've liked from this place, you give him your best descriptors. 

You will concede that don't know Bucky that well. You've been introduced and shared a few conversations, but it always felt a little stilted under your ex's judgmental gaze. Every time Bucky was at a party or gathering, he'd tell you that there was something wrong with Bucky, that it was strange that he kept to himself or with Sam and Steve. 

You couldn't lie and say that you hadn't noticed it yourself, but you didn't find it odd. And you found Bucky's wallflower tendencies endearing, not that you'd ever told anyone that. 

So you really hated that. Hated it enough that you stopped inviting your ex-boyfriend to those gatherings. But that created a jealous side of him that marked the beginning of the end for the two of you.

"He means well," you offer, taking a sip of your tea. "Sam, I mean."

"You know, I don't think I ever heard that story," Bucky prompts, taking the spoon out of his mug and placing it on the table. 

"And what story is that?"

"How you and Sam met," he clarifies, taking a drink of his coffee. 

You wrinkle your nose, shaking your head slightly. "It's not that good of a story."

"Really?" His eyebrows furrow as he puts the mug back down on the table. "Seems like the two of you've known each other forever."

"Certainly feels like it," you wryly agree. You take a large gulp of air before finally answering Bucky's question. "Sam knew my brother. They served together."

"Your brother? Do I know him?"

"Um, no," you breathlessly laugh, a remorseful smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. "My brother was his partner, Riley."

"Oh," Bucky exhales. He remembers seeing the picture of Riley in Sam's apartment. He also remembers how he'd asked Sam about the man and then the following story about the loss of Sam's partner. "I'm sorry, I didn't- I didn't know."

"It's alright," you assure him. "Sam's always sort of looked out for me, especially when I told him I was moving to New York. Which is probably why he lured us both here under false pretenses."

"Ah," Bucky audibly nods. "Makes sense."

"So what about you?"

"My friend, Steve, introduced the two of us," Bucky explains. "They met at the VA and now they drag me down there a few times a month. I tend to keep to myself. They don't let me."

"Yeah, that sounds like Sam," you chuckle. "And how did you meet Steve?"

From there the conversation flowed with a natural ease as though you'd been life-long friends rather than two people duped into being here by a mutual friend.

And even though both of your mugs are mostly empty and cold, the plates only left with crumbs and pastry scraps, neither of you want or are ready to leave. 

"Any pets?" you ask, finally your turn in your little game of twenty questions.

"1, actually," he beams, showing you the picture on his phone's lock screen of a tiny little white cat. You coo, turning your head in adoration at the adorable cat. "Alpine, rescued her off the street."

"And an animal lover," you praise. "Anything else I should know? Do you read to the elderly in your spare time too?"

"Hmm..." Bucky hums, a light blush painting his cheeks, unused to the feeling of someone speaking his praises so easily. "I'd answer, but it's actually my turn."

"Better make it a good one," you tease.

"Pineapple on pizza?" Bucky prompts with a smirk and raised eyebrow. "I'm a New Yorker, this is a deal breaker to me."

"I think," you start, pausing for a moment for dramatic effect, "We should be more worried about the people that put anchovies on pizza."

Bucky throws his head back laughing like a little kid. He nods, a wide grin on his face. "That's a very good answer."

"Music?" you quickly ask.

"Mhh..." he hums, visibly mulling over your question with pursed lips. "Little bit of everything."

"No!" you playfully exclaim, leaning closer to him over the table. "That's a cop out."

"It's not a cop out! I do listen to a little bit of everything," he humorously insists, now resting both his elbows on the table. 

"Yeah, okay," you scoff, teasingly rolling your eyes. "What'd you listen to last?"

He leans closer to you over the table as he pulls his phone out of his back pocket, the first time he's actually unlocked it since he called Sam earlier. He looks down at the screen, then back at you, then back at the screen. His eyes flicker back to you over the screen with a crooked grin. "You sure you want to know?"

"Try me."

"James Taylor."

"No shit," you laugh. He scoffs with an indignant look on his face. You shake your head, pulling your phone out of your bag to show him the screen of your last played song. Coincidentally, also James Taylor. "I've got an entire collection of records at home."

"Impressive," he praises with a commending nod. "My Ma has this crazy bookshelf filled with records, so many hidden gems in there. I may or may not have smuggled a few into my apartment."

You chuckle at his joke, clearing your throat before asking him another question, "Are you close with your family?"

He enthusiastically nods. "With my mom and sister mostly. She's still down in Brooklyn, so I see her pretty often. You?"

You remorsefully shrug. "After Riley died, we all sort of went our own ways, you know?"

"Oh." Bucky offers an apologetic smile. The entire time you'd been sitting with Bucky, your fingers had slowly creeped closer to the center of the wooden table. Unbeknownst to you, Bucky's hand had slowly inched his way to the center too. Without his typical hesitation, his warm fingers slightly graze yours in comfort. "I'm sorry."

You smile at the feeling of his fingers interlocking with yours. You nod, fully resting your hand in Bucky's."It's alright. They're all still back home, and I see them when we can, you know?"

"What about your worst date?" he asks, changing the subject to something that feels more appropriate for the afternoon you're sharing. 

"Oh!" you immediately respond, silently thanking Bucky for not lingering on such a somber topic. "That's easy, it was actually the first date I went on when I moved to New York. This guy in my building asked me out and told me he knew where to find the best pizza in the city."

"And you believed him?" Bucky guffaws. 

"It gets worse. We go on this date. And it's going fine, he takes me to this really nice Italian restaurant when I'm in like a dress and jean jacket. Waiter comes out and he orders for me!" Bucky dramatically winces, and you continue recounting the story, "I take one bite of this pizza and to this day, I swear there was cardboard underneath that cheese."

"Oh my God!" Bucky snickers. "That's awful."

"But it gets worse!" you humorously exclaim. "I choke down a few bites while this guy goes to town like he's never eaten before. End of the night, he pulls the 'I forgot my wallet' routine. I never spoke to him again."

"Would this be a bad time to tell you I forgot my wallet?" Bucky teases. 

"Very funny," you sarcastically laugh.

"Lucky for you, I do actually know where to get the best slice in the city," he proudly informs you. 

You raise a challenging eyebrow at him. "Do you now?"

"I do. Trick is to avoid any fancy places and go straight to a hole in the wall where they yell your order back at you. I'll take you some time. It'll be our second date."

You coyly smile, looking down at the empty coffee mug in front of you. "There's going to be a second date?"

"I really hope so."

"I'll tell you what, if the pizza's good, there'll be a third one too."

A wide grins grows on Bucky's face. "You've got yourself a deal."

But anymore plans can be made or flirty quips exchanged, the same barista from earlier approaches your table, their bored expression now morphed into seething annoyance. "We're going to have to ask you two to leave. We're closed."

You're slightly startled, you both were supposed to meet Sam at 10:00. You both also arrived almost 10 minutes early. Surely, you didn't just spend 6 hours getting lost in conversation with Bucky? "I thought you guys closed at 4:00?" 

"Yeah, it's 4:15, ma'am," the barista drolls, eyes flickering up to the clock sitting on the back wall.  

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" you begin to profusely apologize, reaching behind you for your purse.

Bucky stops you, standing up and pulling out his wallet from his back pocket. "I got it."

"No, you don't have to-"

"Please?" he asks, giving you his best puppy dog eyes. 

Instead of arguing with him, you smile, "Thank you."

His wallet in hand, he pauses to look at you with a warm smile. Though you were frantic only moments ago, you can feel yourself getting lost in his blue eyes. "You're welcome."

"Ahem," the barista pointedly clears their throat. 

"Right," Bucky jolts, tearing his eyes away from you. 

You quickly grab your jacket and your bag off the chair, shrugging it on. By the time you've buttoned your coat, Bucky's pulling on his own jacket as the two of you are shooed outside. 

"I can't believe we just got kicked out," you laugh, the cold breezing darkening your cheeks even more. 

"I can actually say that has never happened to me," he laughs, the two of you stopping on the sidewalk in front of the cafe.  

"I'm gonna have to find a new coffee shop now," you joke, nudging your head toward the disgruntled worker aggressively flipping the open sign over. "Or come back and leave them one hell of a tip."

And then it's quiet. 

You've always liked this neighborhood, scenic, quaint, and quiet. It feels a bit like a sappy Hallmark movie, the orange leaves slowly filter down. Bucky's flushed face watching you as you watch him. Aside from the few stray pedestrians, it feels like it's just you and him. 

A million questions run through your head. And though you know you've got a particular penchant for overthinking, you can't bring yourself to stop because you really don't want to mess this up. 

The lapse in conversation is slightly awkward, not an uncomfortable awkward, but a first date, getting butterflies in your stomach awkward. You both wait a moment, trying to discern if the other is going to make the next move, or if you should part ways now.

You decide to be brave and take that first step. 

"I'm just a few blocks that way," you tell him, jutting your thumb in the direction of your apartment. "Would you maybe want to walk-"

"Okay, I'm sorry, I have to confess," Bucky abruptly interrupts, a guilty expression painting his face.

And your stomach drops when you hear those words. This entire time, he seemed like such a good guy, but of course there's a catch. He's probably married and will swear to you that he's leaving his wife. Or maybe he wants you to join his cult or something.

And then he begins his long rambling confession, "Sam did answer the phone earlier. I'm sorry- I just, I felt weird lying about it, but he sort of admitted to trying to set us up. He's been telling me for months that I needed to get out there and I saw you and Sam knew that I sort of had a crush on you, but you were with someone and then he told me when you guys broke up that I should go for it, but I said no that I should wait, and you were here and I just-"

He falters mid-sentence when he sees an unreadable expression on your face. Your eyes are a little wide, head slightly ajar as you wait for him to finish.

Though you feared he was going to divulge a terrible, dark secret. His rambling, apologetic confession makes him just a little bit more charming. You look at his endearingly flustered expression and his frantic gestures as he tries to explain away his actions with a raised eyebrow. "You?"

"I am so sorry. You probably think I some creep who lured you here," he mutters, more to himself than to you. When he speaks again this time, it's with an apologetic tone directed at you, "I should probably go now. Again, I'm really sorry."

And for the first time in a long time, you don't find yourself overthinking your words. After spending eight months thinking all love did was break, burn, and end, for once, you simply act. As he turns to walk away, you call after him. "But how will I know where to meet you next time?"

He falters, turning around with a confused, furrowed look on his face. "Next time?"

"Best pizza in New York remember?"

His mouth slightly opens in shock. It takes him a second to remind himself to close him mouth before a warm smile slowly grows on his face. 

But on a Wednesday in a cafe, you watched it begin again...

Part 2 (ish) AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist

[another-shameless-fangirl]

Reap What Was Sown- Chapter 3

Summary- Desperate to find their missing son, Jack and Maddie summon Phantom for help as the last one to see Danny alive. Their years of hatred for ghosts have come to a boiling point and Phantom is not cooperating. The hunters will have to try to convince the ghost to bring their son back to them by any means necessary.

Good or bad, at the end of the night, the family will have to reap what they have sown. Happy ending.

Tags: Angst with a happy ending, fanon typical torture, no dissection, Danny wants to be Phantom full time, kinda suicidal thoughts if you think about it, electric shock torture, Danny gets a hug, there's a lot of hurting and yelling first though, some blood Warning-Got some electrical shock here and but this is a feelings fic not a gore fic so Danny's just as, if not more upset about the conversation.

Tumblr links- Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Jack stayed in the circle. There had to be someone to complete the circuit, to stay in the summoner circle and they were lucky the entire thing didn’t cease functioning when Maddie broke through. He stayed planted near the center of his glowing ring even as his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. Jack watched through the green tint of the shield. His eyes stayed on his wife and the wavering monster in the cage.  Phantom had lost that pep, but still had a wise mouth. It smiled grimly. "Any chance I can plead the fifth? I feel like everything I say incriminates me."  "Where is Danny?"

Steadfast and calm, it answered. "I can't tell you." 

"So you do know where he is." With the click of a button, the device in Maddie’s hand started to hum. 

The tool that the hunter had chosen was small. It wasn't pretty, but it was powerful. The size of a screwdriver, the weapon could deliver a nasty shock to a ghost using a certain amperage of electricity instead of ectoplasm. The charges had shown to be successful in interacting with petri dishes of the material, perhaps going so far as to say it could disrupt ectoplasm. 

They had yet to use it on a ghost. 

Phantom's jaw tightened watching the thing hum but merely clenched its fists in its lap. 

"Tell me everything or I’ll have to hurt you." 

"Then hurt me.” The echoed words were tight but Maddie scowled at it.

"Don't test me.” 

"I'm not,” the words were tighter out of grit teeth. “Just get it out of your system. You've hurt him for too long. I won’t let you-"

"How dare you," Jack snapped from behind the shield. "You don't know anything about us and Danny." 

Phantom huffed and crossed its arms. "I know more than you think." 

"How?" Her goggles whirred as she glared at him through the glass." Were you stalking my boy?" Maddie's fingers twitched around the device as it buzzed. 

Phantom's ears twitched, a strictly inhuman gesture. "I was his friend."

Jack stiffened. I was ? Did that mean- 

"You have some nerve," Maddie growled. "Danny would never be friends with the likes of you."

"With who? Ghosts?" The thing spat and it glowered at them through white bangs. A thin, sad smile curled its lip. "Figures. You don't know Danny at all."

A shiver went through Jack and he could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up. There was a tinge in the air, something dangerous. He watched as Maddie took a deep, cool breath and raised her gloved hand. The Fenton Scrambler pointed and the sight, which was made with a plain old laser pointer, pointed squarely at the ghost's chest.

"If you really knew my son, you would know how much his parents love him. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for my boy.”

Phantom smiled again that wry smile that had no place here. "Then let him go."

It was a momentary lapse in judgment. 

A flash. A pained cry broke through the air but it was human. The ghost jerked away from the barrier as if it had been shocked. The device had been fired but the light purple beam seemed to deflect off of the cage wall. Whatever it was that was strong enough to keep Phantom in was powerful enough to keep the beam out. 

It bounced away burying itself in the shin of a blue jumpsuit and the woman crumpled to her knees. 

“Maddie!” Jack screamed and the ghost made a noise he couldn’t hear over his own panicked voice.

“I’m fine,” Maddie’s arms shook where they supported her on the floor. “Don’t leave the circle.”

Jack opened his mouth to retort but stopped getting as close to the edge of the circle as he dared. She was right. The only thing that was separating them from the creature was the summoning grid's containment field. The living person's strength was the grounded connection to the living world. The ghost was being kept in the grid with what they had upgraded to electricity and science with a touch of blood. The grid held strong for now but they hadn't done the experiments, hadn't done the testing and backed up their findings and despite holding strong during Phantom's final attack, who knew what it would take to shatter it. 

Maddie was able to break out of the circle, but she was now vulnerable if the creature escaped. The barrier was strong, but something living had to be in the summoner's circle grounding it to this world. Tired from the horrific display of power or not, Phantom was angry and strong enough that it could kill them both easily. Worse, it could overshadow them and do horrible things with a corporeal body whether they still inhabited it or not. 

Jack would not be able to risk putting one foot over the line. 

The smell of burnt flesh and fire and a sweet acidic aroma tainted the air. He forced himself to be still. “Are you alright?” It was a stupid question. His eyes went to the first aid box on the table.

Maddie’s eyes were unseen through the goggles but Jack was sure there would be tears. “It’s fine. I’m human, the disruptor won’t work on human flesh.” But it did. Even if it had not shaken the molecules apart and dissolved the skin, something was still wrong with her left leg.

Jack looked at the woman but she did not turn to look at him back. She stood up again obviously putting her weight on one side. 

“Use the kit. There are fresh bandages in there-” his words died on his lips. That was the last time he knew for a fact he had spoken to Danny. 

Saturday morning he found the box nearly empty on the lab bench where Maddie must have cleaned it out and thrown out whatever was no longer in date or something. Bandages in particular were always missing and needed replenishing so he knew when he found Danny upstairs on the couch recovering from another late Friday night, the boy would know how to restock it. Jack didn’t even wait for a reply. The last thing he had heard Danny say was “Okay” as he rushed out the door and slammed it shut behind him. 

His eyes went to the bench where the kit had been pulled out before for the lancet. Jack could see where bandages and plastic bottles had been replaced then dislodged where Maddie had ripped it apart to get to the instrument she needed.

Danny was a good boy, he had listened. It was one of the last things he did before he disappeared somewhere only this ghost seemed to know. 

Refilling the first aid kit would not be the last thing Danny did in this house. Jack had to stay put.

He looked at the ghost again at long last as it stared at the wound with wide eyes. 

“I’m fine, Jack. We have bigger things to worry about.” She left the disruptor on the ground and took a step forward kicking it aside. 

Phantom looked up at her from the ground. Even with the scare it didn’t float up to eye level, instead glancing between the wound and her face with its gloved hands on the floor.

“That looks bad. You should go-”

“I’m not going anywhere until you answer me, punk.” She hissed and Phantom shrunk a little then squared its shoulders. 

“Go to a hospital! Your leg is gonna fester and fall off or something.”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you.” Maddie glared at him and Phantom bristled as if offended. 

“Why would I want this? God- you’re so stuck in your own heads that me telling you to go to the hospital is an attack!” It did a good job of pretending to be indignant but there was no chance they could leave the ghost alone without some kind of deal being made. There were weapons everywhere but Phantom could escape into the world in a second if they didn’t do this right. At that point, they would never find Danny.

Jack braced himself. They needed this now. “We’re not letting you out of here until we know our boy is alright.”

Phantom let out a laugh but it wasn’t happy, more shocked and annoyed. “Then leave me here because he isn’t. He’s actually pretty upset right now.”

A ball of something dense and sour curdled in Jack’s stomach. Maddie turned away from the grid limping toward the counter against the wall while he kept his attention on the creature. “What did you do to him?” He demanded and Phantom hunched its shoulders up around its head and threw up its gloved hands, a learned gesture broadcasting annoyance. 

“I didn’t do anything to him!”

The ghost boy knew something but was keeping it quiet. It knew where Danny was but refused to say more but why ? 

Maddie’s mouth opened and closed before licking dry lips. There was only one thing that made sense.

“You’re the one who took him.” 

Jack followed the train of thought his wife had laid the tracks for. Of course. The pieces fit. If Phantom had interpreted Danny needing protection then it could have taken him in some misguided attempt to be a hero. It would have been effortless for such a powerful being who by all accounts was obsessed with defending Amity Park and its inhabitants. It seemed especially fond of Danny always showing up near him…Following him.

Phantom’s eyes widened recognizing a shift in the atmosphere. The ghost’s posture changed as it looked between the two humans as their expressions darkened. Broken glass clinked on the floor falling from white hair. “Hold on a second-”

“You took my baby.” Maddie stalked like a lioness around Phantom’s circle. Instead of going toward Jack in the summoner’s circle, she moved the opposite way, the long way toward the computer powering it all.

The ghost rose best it could on shaky legs to watch, anticipate, and Jack’s heart pounded in his chest. How could they not see it before? Danny had talked about the ghost boy before dismissing their talks about how the creature was dangerous, a corrupted soul that could never belong here but it must have convinced their son with that charming tongue and boyish looks. Danny was sweet, trusting, too easy to take advantage of and the ghost must have sensed that when it started manipulating him.

How long did it take for Phantom to convince Danny he was safe around him? 

Did Danny even know to resist when he was literally spirited away?

Maddie walked around the circle and knelt by the machine that ran the whole operation. With calculating hands she unscrewed the hand-tightened bolts and revealed the delicate insides of hastily soldered wiring and parts. She reached in and Jack gasped watching her remove the regulator on the part connected to Phantom’s containment. The device controlled the amount of electricity that flowed into the grid keeping it within the range they had calculated with chicken scratch writing in a notebook that had been tossed aside hours ago. With precise movements, she picked up the disrupter and hefted it in her hand evaluating it then it clattered to the floor. 

Jack shivered. 

There was nothing protecting against the amperage increase that surged through the lines with a tiny twist of the knob. 

The lines glowed brighter. Phantom stumbled but found its feet. Not able to raise into the air just yet, the ghost looked around it watching the lines glow brighter and the borders hummed. 

“Why- what are you doing?” It’s voice pitched slightly. Maddie smiled recognizing it as fear.

“Silver is a wonderful conductor,” she said touching the blue casing on the wires and she pulled one out of the conduit. “Interestingly enough, so is ectoplasm.” The machine whined and Phantom’s throat bobbed. 

“You don’t have to do this.”

“You leave me no choice.” Maddie glared at the ghost and turned the knob again. Electricity stung through the air and the grid lit up brightly as Phantom screamed. 

It was a terrible sound. It wouldn’t surprise him if the ghost had died with a similar scream. Jack closed his eyes but all he could think about was Danny. His boy was out there somewhere and this ghost knew where he was. He steeled himself and glowered down at the scene with cool blue eyes. Seconds ticked by then Maddie turned the knob the opposite way. So much was done with such a simple motion. The electricity was lowered back to the original containment levels and the air stunk of copper.

The screaming cut off as the creature shook on hands and knees. Pitch black smoke piped from its back in random spots. Phantom coughed and spasmed on the ground then flickered once. For a split second Jack feared it would flicker away completely but Phantom’s form still seemed stable as it gasped for air it did not need. He glared at it and squared his large shoulders. 

"There's more where that came from, punk. Now get talkin'." He watched the ghost clench its fingers into fists. 

“T-that hurt.” It gasped and Maddie smiled. 

“Good. You freak…”

The ghost flinched. It tried again. “You can talk to him- you don’t have to hurt me.”

Rage filled her at the confession. All that and the ghost knew exactly where Danny was. All the begging and pleading and it could have gotten Danny at any time. It toyed with them instead. 

“I want to hurt you.” The words hung in the air and green eyes looked properly scared. One of the few things ghosts could actually feel was fear. “Ghosts only want to hurt humans. They cause chaos and spread death anywhere they go. You’re no different.” Jack shuddered at the chilled tone, the steel in her voice was sharp enough to commit the sin. 

“You’re wrong,” Its voice was tight and quiet. “You’ve always been wrong. Not all ghosts are bad.”

“Ghosts are-”

“No!” The cry was tight and desperate and a chill startled through the hunters as Phantom started rapidly. “No! Just please, stop. Some ghosts just wanna be left alone. I don’t wanna fight anymore or hurt or be hurt, I don’t! Just- let me go…” It cut off the words with a sob. Green eyes lowered to the ground and its head dipped down hanging low like a cowed animal. “I don’t wanna live in this world anymore…” White hair covered its face as another sob shook its shoulders. 

It was almost convincing. 

“You took my boy away from me.” She said and the dial clicked as the amperage increased again. The glowing increased in a spill of color and those thin shoulders hunched in on itself.

“Please no…”

“Information, ghost. That’s all I want from you.” The ghost’s resolve seems to have shattered in the short time. Maybe the electricity was a stronger deterrent to ghosts than they thought. Maybe Phantom in particular was vulnerable to the element. Either way, the result was favorable. 

“I can’t tell you where he is-” Electricity spiked through the air but Phantom jerked up, eyes wild and it threw out a hand at Maddie in a gesture that could mean please . “I can’t- really! I can tell you anything else.”

A beat passed then she turned the dial back down. “Why can’t you tell us where Danny is?”

Phantom’s throat bobbed as if searching for the right words to project. It spoke carefully lowering its hand and keeping a nervous gaze between the two hunters.

“I can’t because… It’s against my ghostly nature to tell you anything that could risk his safety. I’m protecting him.” The words were stilted but that could have been on account of the nasty shock. The ghost’s nature, its very core not allowing the action would match with the notes they had compiled on Phantom’s method of operation. If it truly believed that Danny was being protected then it couldn’t betray him. They had to get the information from the ghost slowly from any angle they could. 

Jack looked at his wife and through the red lenses, her eyes told him that they had come to the same hypothesis. Now to put it to the test. The glow faded back to normal levels and the creature shivered, probably in relief. 

Maddie stood up and put a hand on the top of the hard casing for support. “How long have you been watching Danny?”

The question caught the ghost off guard. Maybe it was surprised that they actually took the bait. It looked between the two of them and dared to pull itself up enough to sit on its knees kneeling before them. 

“I haven’t been watching him like some kinda stalker. If you’re asking how long I’ve known about him, it’s been a while.” Phantom said and Jack huffed.

“You’re gonna have to be more specific, ghost.” With his words, Maddie turned the knob slightly and that agonizing glow threatened the air again. Green eyes shot open wide. 

“14! I- he was 14 when I came around.”

Maddie glared at the beast in the circle. “You’ve been haunting Danny for years ?” She asked but it was an accusation, one the ghost denied quickly shaking its head.

“Not haunting. I just knew about him. He’s the son of two ghost hunters and lives in the house with the portal,” the ghost looked down at the sigils and tried to draw a finger over the surface but the gloved digit failed to touch the floor hovering just over the line. “I’m his friend.” 

How could that be? Phantom had said that before but why would that be true? 

“We’ve never seen ghosts be friendly with anyone, ghost or human.” Jack said as his wife simmered with an indignant rage. The ghost boy shrugged at the floor. 

“You haven’t exactly been looking very hard. There are lots of things about ghost behavior that you don’t know about.”

Maddie huffed. “We are the leading researchers in paranormal studies. We’ve studied ghosts for most of our lives.”

Phantom huffed back, defiance starting to appear again through the pain. “Most of your research is done so you can hunt better. If you were really looking, you would see that there are good ghosts and there are bad ghosts. There are also ghosts who just want to be left alone.” 

Maddie snipped back darkly, “And I suppose you think you’re one of the good ghosts.” The ghost gave her a mild look. 

“Not anymore,” Maddie’s face tightened and Phantom smiled at her tightly. “Ijust wanna be left alone now.” 

“Why did you take him then?” Jack asked with curiosity coloring his tone. “You won’t be alone if you have Danny with you.” Jack tried. Phantom looked at him and the smile turned into something wry. It always looked like it knew something they didn’t and it was infuriating to be mocked like that. He kept trying anyway. 

“What made you take our boy? Why not some other kid?”

“Jack!” 

He shut his mouth. He shouldn’t have said that. The past few days had been a nightmare. He couldn’t wish this on anyone but he had to know. 

The ghost turned the words over looking at the large man then the floor, then answered with its eyes down. “He wanted to go.” 

A chill went down Jack’s back and Maddie growled. “Lies! Danny would never-”

“He would and he did.” This creature, this eternally young boy, had stolen away their son. “He… We’re friends. Close friends.” It said and the delivery wasn’t the smoothest, but the being seemed to believe it. Jack was going to be sick. 

“Stop calling him your friend.” Maddie demanded and the ghost seemed to get stronger as the anger grew. 

“Well what else do you call it? I know more about Danny than either of you.” Phantom snapped back and its jaw twitched as if regretting some of the words. Maddie scoffed at it.

“That’s ridiculous-”

“Did you know he broke his arm last year?”

The hunters froze. Jack stiffened as if the words were a physical blow. “That’s ludicrous. We would have noticed-”

“Well ya didn’t,” Phantom said stiffly and crossed its arms tight against its chest. “He was pretty disappointed about it too but he wasn’t surprised.”

Jack’s stomach sank. What were they working on last year that could have made them so unobservant? There was grant work but nothing that was out of the ordinary. No, it couldn’t be true.

“Jazz had to take him to the hospital,” the monster continued. “His friends signed his cast.”

“He would have told us.” Jack insisted. They would have noticed…

“He was afraid you would be mad. Then you didn’t notice after a few days so he figured he wouldn’t bring it up. You never noticed so he never did.” The ghost’s fingers tightened into its suit. 

Silence bloomed in the room. Jack couldn't even place a time period, couldn't think of anything that had stuck out in the last year that could indicate such an event. Danny was a good kid. He loved them and they loved him. There was no way that something like that could be kept a secret. There were no secrets in this house.

"Jazz would have said something." Maddie shook her head. "She's so responsible, she would have told us immediately."

"Jazz was an adult. 18 and about to move out and go to college." Phantom shrugged. "I dunno why she didn't tell you. Maybe she didn't want to be lecturing you during her last month at home."

Danny would have just turned 16 over the summer. Jazz moved out in August. Still, Jack could not place a specific time that Danny had a cast on. 

"It wouldn't have really made a difference anyway. It's just your nature."

"Nature?" Maddie asked but she saved her tone from becoming a scoff. Angry, sure, but more unsure.

"Well yeah," Phantom continued, sounding all the world like it was stating a sad fact like the oceans were heating up or the sun would explode someday in the far off future. "You get caught up in your work. Always have. It's important but sometimes that means you don't notice things. That's just how it is." 

Was it? The kids didn't do many activities so there weren't exactly dance recitals and ball games to miss, but they had been supportive chaperoning dances and attending PTA meetings when needed. Well some of them. It had been a while since they had been to the school. 

Maybe they weren't as attentive to their children as they could be. They were young but they had lives and friends and Danny was barely home these days anyway. When he was home, he was tired from partying all night or playing games with his friends. He was a teenage boy, they needed space and Danny was basically self sufficient. Jazz had been independent for quite a while herself. 

Jack bit the inside of his cheek. How long had it been since they started thinking of their children that way?

It had been so long he didn't know.

"There had to be a mistake," Maddie started again. "Our boy wouldn't leave home like that, not without saying anything. You must not have understood what he wanted. He wouldn't go willingly." The anger returned and Phantom looked more defeated with each word. 

"He did. Let me go.”

Back to that impossible request. 

Jack shook his head. "Danny wouldn't be able to survive in the zone. He's human." Phantom smiled a grim smile. 

"What if he wasn't? What if he was a ghost too?"

Jack didn't realize how tense his body had become until those words infected the air and he couldn't move a muscle. Maddie gasped, a horrid, choking sound. 

"You monster. You... You killed my son?" 

Green eyes widened and white hair whipped around as the hunters stared at him horrified. 

It made sense. If Danny couldn't be brought here, had to be in the zone, wasn't safe in the human word-

No.

Phantom was telling the truth.

Danny Fenton was dead.

"Wait-"

The expression was back to blank. Some distance had been put back between them but why? Phantom should be overjoyed that it had put the hunters through so much pain. Maddie kneeled again wincing as blood dripped from the wound. The ghost watched flicking its eyes up and down between that stoic face and the injury. It didn't address it, likely put out by the previous response it got when it had suggested a hospital. The monster with a child’s face grimaced and attempted one more time to speak.

"It's not what you think-

It had nothing they wanted to hear. Maddie's fingers tightened around the knob and before the ghost could finish those useless words, she turned it high. 

Phantom screamed for a very long time.

[wh6res]

three's a crowd | nomin

synopsis. picking favorites is impossible when you like neither of them.

warning. read at your own risk. abuse, bullying, poly relationship, yandere themes, manipulation, nonconsensual touching, noncon, degradation, smut threesome oop

disclaimer. i do not condone whatever tf i wrote in this nor does it reflect my beliefs or values or morals and such. it is all pure fiction and i also dont think jaemin or jeno would act like this in real life.

note. this was meant to be a new year's gift lmao i obviously got a lil carried away 👀 anyway a late happy new year to you all! we survived 2020, let's start living in 2021, yeah? lmao if covid lets us grr mwah!

the relationship you had with the two of them was a weird one, bordering on taboo, but it wasn't as if you willfully chose to be who they wanted you to be and it took jaemin's unwanted pining and jeno's intimidating demeanor for you to fall right into their arms.

it was a joint effort on their part, you couldn't've possibly stood a chance.

"this many?" the cashier asked. "are you sure?"

stepping back and studying the whole situation, you figured you only had your addiction to caffeine and procrastination to blame. it was a chain reaction you didn't even know will lead up to your inevitable doom.

if you hadn't been slacking off during your first semester of junior year college, you wouldn't be forced to overwork yourself trying to catch up to the looming deadlines, but to be able to 'work yourself to the bone' you need your boost of energy… and that was when you met one of them.

"uhm," you scratch the back of your head sheepishly as you eye the six glass bottles of iced coffee. sure, it looks bad and you kinda appreciate the look of concern the cashier throws your way but it was none of his business.

"yes. now could you, like, you know… hurry up? i'm in a little bit of a time crunch right now."

screw it. although you hardly snap like that with other people on a daily basis, it'll be a whole different conversation if you were under a significant amount of stress and today, unfortunately, is one of those days.

now can he just fucking stop asking questions and give you your six bottles of death drink to keep your fucking brain going so you can pass an eight-page essay tomorrow? thank you very much!

the guy snickered, the beeping sound of a barcode being read sounding a thousand times more annoying than it usually sounds as he keeps his hand busy by punching your items out.

you fail to notice how he studies you through the gaps of his lashes, finding you interesting rather than threatening as you stood before him with your messy hair and oversized hoodie.

"haven't seen you around university grounds 'till today," he tries striking another conversation with you. "you new? i'm jaemin."

this was your first mistake, you shouldn't have been so… downright rude when you met him. if you were granted the miracle of meeting him a 2nd time, you would've acted more nice, throwing yourself at his feet even to blend in with the rest of his fangirls you didn't even know about at the time. you would've done anything to make sure he never gives you a second glance, to never pique his interest.

jaemin is the pep squad captain. flying over colored blue mats and doing tumblings in the air with no ounce of fear. he was the best in his team, that much was evident when your friend dragged you into watching a pep rally practice. his landings were clean, balanced, and executed to the best he can at all times.

no wonder he was popular, his talent is outstanding and his looks are a bonus. his killer combo of a smile and wink after pulling off a tough flip is enough to send them squealing in their seats.

he spotted you that day and since then, he snuck the quickest glances at the bench during practices. recognizing you as the coffee girl he met during his convenience store shift. jaemin tries not to let his disappointment show too much when he doesn't see you, but of course, a pair of cold calculating eyes could see right through him.

"i saw that," his boyfriend said, hand darting forward to hold jaemin's gym bag for him. "you kept looking at the crowd. do you want to see her that much?"

"but she reminds me so much of you, jeno!" he retorts, pouting at the slight grumpy tone the other boy used. "i can't help it. she doesn't seem to give a fuck around me so she's quite interesting. maybe she can even be a great addition to our relationship!"

"well," jeno replies after a beat of silence, plastering a small smirk on his face before slinging an arm around jaemin's shoulder.

"convince me?"

you don't like jaemin's attention. not in the slightest. and it seems that was enough reason for the reign of terror his little fanclub has subjected you too.

it wasn't the petty elementary forms of bullying like pulling at your hair or calling you names. they pale in comparison to the other things they do to you—beating you up, messing with your homework, "accidentally" dumping their food trays on you.

and you weren't stupid.

you knew exactly who was behind it, knew how jaemin spectates the whole thing from afar so that he can swoop in at the end to play your knight in shining armor.

"oh, you poor thing. do you need help?"

the first time you accepted his "help" you ended up in a supply closet near the gym during your free period, cornered and weak as your cries for help drowns under the squeaking of shoes and the booming sounds of rubber balls hitting the floor.

if it weren't for jeno appearing out of thin air and prying the boy off of you, you would've been painted blue and red from the death grip he had on your wrist, neck, and waist.

you can still remember feeling the soreness of your scalp from when he pulled your hair too hard. remembered feeling his teeth gnawing at your lips as if he wanted to tear them off.

that time hadn't been the first time you saw jeno. you've shared a few classes with him and it strikes you how polar opposites they are with one another.

while jaemin likes to bask in his professor and classmates' recognition by confidently reciting his answers, jeno would rather keep to himself. liked sitting at the last row, near the window, so he'd be the first to go once the professor ends their lecture. while jaemin loved the attention of his fangirls, jeno preferred solitude. while jaemin is impulsive and wild, jeno liked to think things through.

it was within these reasons that you decided to do what you did. but your judgement of character has never been more wrong.

you approached jeno one day in the library, tried to make yourself appear as stoic and confident as possible. but your constant slouching and averting eyes was a dead giveaway.

you came to talk to him about what jaemin has been doing, hoping there's one person left in this entire school that isn't under the cheer captain's trance. the one reasonable person that has already saved you once and (hopefully) is willing enough to save you again. the only one that probably has a certain level of control over jaemin, if the supply closet incident is anything to go by.

but you've overestimated lee jeno.

"you should've just given jaemin what he wanted."

"but—but aren't you two lovers? isn't it bothering you?"

you try baiting him, only for an uncomfortable shiver to start crawling down your spine when he chuckled humorlessly, pushing his school materials to the side while pinning you with an unreadable stare.

how can a person make someone feel so small just by a gaze alone? it was nothing like you've felt with jaemin. this is way worse.

"the only thing that's bothering me is why you're not ours yet."

you feel cold fingers creeping their way under your shirt, going higher and higher until it brushes against your bra. and when your eyes meet, the look on his face was unmistakable—what are you going to do about it, huh?

you stood up in lightning speed, the chair you've been sitting on scraping loudly against the floor.

you've never ran out as fast as you did.

and jeno swears it'll be the last.

you tried everything in your power to ignore them for the next following weeks but it soon became useless when the two boys took it upon themselves to give you your space.

although judging by the pinpricks you feel on your back, and the constant weight of a stare you feel on your shoulders, you knew they weren't done with you yet. far from it. and for some reason, you just knew they wanted to lull you into a false sense of security first before striking again.

and while they continued to ogle at you from afar like a hawk circling its prey in a desert, you took it upon yourself to return the favor. not because you were the slightest bit interested in those creeps but maybe, just maybe, if you look hard enough you'll find a way out, a weakness.

but what you realized made your insides churn in great discomfort—although it may seem that jeno holds the reins in the relationship since his reserved nature fits the role, it's actually the other way around.

jaemin might appear too self-centered, too focused on himself to give a fuck about his surroundings but in actuality, he has quite a knack for reading people. even more so than jeno. and it was scary how he used it to his advantage, and paired up with his devoted fangirls? it was hell on earth.

you found it alarming how the two seem to magically appear wherever you are.

although you weren't in the least bit surprised. for some reason, you can't take your eyes away when jaemin's devotees flock around him (and jeno) in a circle.

it almost reminds you of a shoal of piranhas, waiting for their meal to drop into the water before ripping it to shreds with their teeth. only their "meal" isn't actual flesh but the carefully crafted words jaemin says that drive them into a sick frenzy.

one that has them doing everything in their power to satisfy him like the loyal dogs they are.

so this was how he got them to bully you?

"oh, that? don't worry! yangyang just ran into me during cheer rehearsal. no biggie. my cheek stung a little bit, though…" is what he said but really he's telling them "scruff him up a bit for me, why don't ya?"

"of course, i can't be the best all the time. haechan is just too good, maybe even better than me…" is what he said but really he's telling them "can you remind him where his place should be?"

all the while jeno did nothing to hold him back.

no matter how wrong jaemin is, how much of an asshole he is, jeno will stick by his side through and through. so as much as jaemin is a puppeteer that gets a kick for controlling people, jeno is as much at fault for looking the other way.

because in jeno's perspective, why the fuck would he do shit when he can just get off from the entertainment that comes with jaemin's sweet little mind games?

we lost :(

you had been busy sorting through paperwork for one of your professors in the faculty when your friend texted you the results of the intercollegiate cheer dance competition. a frown paints your face, heart feeling heavy at the bad news.

in all honesty, you still supported the pep squad—you just hated the captain and his boyfriend. they've been practicing non-stop for this and prior to the weeks of the competition, jeno looked a lot more tense and jaemin less smiley than usual. you swore you even saw the latter snap at one of his fangirls.

not to mention, they paid less attention to you, too, and it was the best three weeks of your life.

tension starts rising in your shoulders, fingers absentmindedly running through the edge of the papers you had been sorting until you became immersed with your thoughts.

jaemin must be in the worst mood yet.

and jeno too, probably. if anything, that guy gets triggered the most when something bad happens to jaemin or when he catches snippets of people talking shit about his oh so "perfect" boyfriend.

jeno is a lot scarier when jaemin is in one of his mood swings, you noticed. he steps up in the relationship to offer comfort to the other boy and for outsiders? it isn't a great experience to go through—being on the receiving end of jeno's ice cold stare is a position you don't want to find yourself in after that time in the library.

he is still as much a threat to your peaceful life like his lover.

you snap out of it when the blinding headlights of a vehicle seep through the closed blinds. you hear the gentle hum of an engine switching off as the headlights vanished as quick as they had appeared. that must be the cheer squad's bus.

as you look around the empty faculty room, something in your gut tells you to ditch file sorting duty for professor kim tonight and fucking get the hell out of campus grounds as quick as you can.

after haphazardly throwing the unsorted papers back into the cabinet, you groan aloud when the keys to the office drop out of your skirt’s pocket.

the indoor gym where the cheering squad practices is right across the hallway. you sure as hell don't want to bump into jaemin. or jeno, too, if he had decided to ride along the cheer squad's bus on the way home.

you kept looking for the keys underneath the cubicles, cursing aloud when you heard the telltale squeaks of shoes rubbing against linoleum. you almost hit your head against a table when you quickly got back up your feet, darting forward to shut the lights for the faculty room.

they can't know you're here. alone. and if it meant sitting in the dark for a few hours 'till they leave, meant going back home a little later than usual is what you have to do then so be it.

you try not to react so violently when the door you're leaning on jolts when someone from outside slams their back against it.

"it's not like we didn't do our best, right guys? i don't have regrets. it might sound fucking cheesy and although i'm sad myself, atleast we did what we can."

it's jaemin. his voice clear as day.

you try peaking, craning your neck up from your place on the floor. only to see the back of his head leaning against the glass section of the door. someone else joins in on the conversation, followed by coach park himself, and you slowly tune out whatever they're saying as you stealthily start scanning the faculty room.

you curse under your breath. is there no other exit other than this door? jesus christ! even classrooms in this university had two doors—

"what are you doing here?"

the switch flickers on, basking the once dark room with light. only when you hear an echo of your name being called, did you snap out of it and quickly picked yourself up from the floor.

"i said, what are you doing here?"

their coach asks, drilling the question as he looks at you skeptically with his arms crossed. you try not to look at the people behind him.

particularly, not at his cheer captain standing on his right.

particularly, not at jeno, who stands out like a sore thumb with his blue hair, a protective arm snaked around jaemin’s shoulders.

this isn't your lucky day, too, you guess.

"i was…" you cursed yourself for stuttering. "i was, uhm, i was file sorting for prof—professor kim, sir."

coach park looked like he didn't believe you as he narrowed his eyes in scrutiny. your nerves are going haywire and you can feel the sharp pins of their stare with how close they are.

you kept juggling your weight with the balls of your feet, hands fisting and unfisting behind your back. you want to leave. you have to leave.

"file sorting… in the dark?" he asked incredulously.

fuck this.

"uhm, you can ask professor kim himself tomorrow, coach. for now, uh, i'll be going now. i'm sorry you guys lost…"

originally, the exit is on the right side, at the end of the hallway. but no, you are not going to pass by those two while on your way out so you ducked behind a random student standing on the coach's left instead and practically ran away from the scene.

everyone had been too busy. too busy looking at your retreating form to even notice jaemin and jeno exchanging glances, too busy to notice the latter untangling himself from their captain to slip away unnoticed, his hurried steps filled with a burning purpose.

you didn't know why you ran, but you did. your shoes practically booming against the floor as you sped away through darkened hallways. you're sweating profusely, heart hammering in your chest. you can worry about professor kim tomorrow but right now you just had to—

"why are you in such a rush, pet?"

crashing into jeno felt like crashing into a wall. if it hadn't been for his arm quickly wrapping around your waist, then you would've landed on your butt before him.

with the small distance between the two of you, jeno could see as clear as day through your eyes.

jaemin was right.

it was addicting to stare into them.

especially when he can see every single one of your thoughts flying through your pretty little head. but hey, it wasn't their fault you were so easy to read.

jeno barely conceals the wicked smirk on his lips when your hands come up to his chest, trying to push him away but to no avail.

he can see your eyes shifting from shock, to confusion, until it finally settles on fear—to which it's slowly becoming a favorite emotion of his to see on your face.

"you know, jaemin is in a really shitty mood right now. and we were wondering, maybe you can cheer us up?"

no. this can't be happening.

"jeno, please." your dilated eyes and disheveled hair made his blood run south. "let me go. you don't want me. you don't need a third party in your relationship."

you yelp when he lets you go, literally shoving you against a wall—which you found out is actually a door, as it swings open as soon as your body crashes against it.

with jeno looming unforgivingly before you in his full height, the tears stung extra hard but you won't let them fall.

if he wanted to bask in the image of your weakness then it'll be something you'll deprive from him for as long as you can.

"i don't need a stupid bitch like you to tell me what i feel." he scoffs. "don't fucking kid yourself, you little whore—i don't want you. i'm not jaemin."

the echo of the classroom door shutting closed surged through you like a wake up call.

this is really happening.

you've always led a decent life, had done nothing too questionable and you've always thought maybe life will spare you if you lived quietly enough. but the feel of jeno's freezing hands crawling against your skin felt like life itself had spat at you in the eye and left you to rot in a ditch.

"i've always liked how you wore skirts," he comments. playing with the ruffled hem of the soft fabric as he purposely grazed his knuckles against your supple thighs. "gives me easy access, don't you agree?"

you scream when he flips your skirt up to reveal the innocent pink of your cotton panties. it was as if a switch had flipped inside of you and the will to fight started coursing through your veins.

"stop! jeno! i don't want this!"

his brows furrow, grunting as he struggles to push the waistline of your skirt up higher with how much you're thrashing underneath him. you buck your hips, tried curling in on yourself, anything to prolong what he wants to do to you.

with your legs trapped underneath his, you blindly reach forward, relying on your upper body instead to push and scratch whatever your palms and nails reached.

you continue screaming like a banshee until he shoved two fingers into your wet cavern.

"stop fighting me," he sounded strained, as if he's holding himself back. you feel him fisting the fabric of your skirt and you fear he's simply going to rip it apart.

you tried responding to him, only the sound had been muffled, gurgled by the flat of his fingers pushing down against your tongue mercilessly. when you reach forward to push him away, your hands land on the apple of his cheeks, nails digging through skin.

until it slips and—

you lie rigid when red scratch marks in the size of your fingernails slowly appear on jeno's skin, his head turned to the side as he paused. your actions slowly start sinking in to him as he shuts his eyes and bit his lip 'till it looked like it was about to bleed.

oh no.

"jeno—"

the slap he planted on your cheek left your ears ringing. all those hard earned muscles of his put to good use—if the tears hadn't fallen for the last few minutes, then it definitely started falling now.

the hit had been so strong, a few of your hair flew astray, the buzzing feeling of your skin tempting you to reach a hand up to soothe your abused cheek.

until jeno let out a low growl and your hand immediately drops limp against your body, afraid of whatever else he can do to you other than a slap.

"that's more like it," he whispers under his breath. you let out the tiniest of whimpers when his hand darts forward to fist your hair. "do you know what happens to bad girls? they fucking get busted up. do you understand me?"

his patience is nonexistent.

jeno slams your head against the floor when you don't answer because you thought his question had been rhetorical. it felt like your skull had been split in two as you wail in pain.

"are you fucking deaf—i asked you a fucking question!"

the hand that cups your jaw is painful as he squeezed your cheek with his blunt nails. your hand shoots up to wrap around his wrist, silently pleading for him to let up as you sobbed out loud. you started nodding as best as you can despite his firm grip on your face.

your reply was nothing short of pathetic. with lips forcefully pursed and the steady stream of your tears and snot rolling down your face, your response is gargled and hardly incoherent and jeno seemed to thoroughly enjoy your anguish if the condescending curl on his lips is anything to go by.

"look at you," he whispers, his face coming close to yours as he holds you down. there was something in the way jeno stared so intently that it made your skin crawl.

"i think you're prettiest when ruined like this."

with his nose touching yours, he felt too close, bordering on intimate as you felt his hand creep back up your thighs, trailing up with feather-like touches that made goosebumps appear on your skin.

you tried wiggling your legs underneath him but one sharp look from jeno is enough to make you stop.

the hand holding your face moves. coming down from gripping your face to encircling his hand around your neck.

"do you like it when i touch you? freaky bitch."

his hands trail further up, up, up until you felt him slotting a finger underneath your panties.

jeno didn't like how frozen you were underneath him as he pulls at the hem before letting go. the elastic snapping back against your skin.

the action evokes a strong feeling through the young male, promising to have you writhing and screaming and begging because by the end of all this, you'll be so needy and frustrated that you will have no choice but to give in to what your body wanted.

"jeno, didn't i tell you to play nice?"

someone stands by the door, the minimal light from the hallway creating a silhouette with his form but you knew who he was. that deep voice, with the same annoying flippant tone, is a dead giveaway.

you didn't know why you even hoped in the beginning. as if there'll be someone who can save you from these two.

you thought the flash of hurt in your eyes was quick to disappear but jeno noticed it quicker.

in a span of seconds, he pulled you up from your position from the ground and tugged you towards his lap. you haven't even gotten the time to settle on your new position when he already smashed his lips against yours.

it was messy. too much saliva. too much teeth. no tenderness to it at all.

the fabric of his jeans felt rough, not to mention the ice cold belt buckle made you severely uncomfortable as it seeps through the thin fabric of your skirt.

when you attempt to hover over his lap, jeno grunts as he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you back down without your lips breaking away from each other. you didn't know why he let out a whine, but you understood the moment you fully sat down on his lap and you felt a tent on his jeans hitting your clothed entrance perfectly.

in a normal circumstance, you would've found everything hot and might've actually gotten off from it but not when it's him who’s doing this to you and you didn’t consent to any of this.

you start squirming again. palms lying flat against jeno's chest as you attempt to push him away and jaemin sees this as the opportune moment to slot himself behind you, caging you in between them.

“i want my turn,” he hisses and without an ounce of hesitation, jeno stops to do what he's told.

jaemin doesn't waste any second to grab your face, awkwardly craning your neck up to meet his lips in the same feverish kiss.

while jeno had been all teeth and aggression, practically forcing you to open your mouth and kiss him back, jaemin on the other hand is more soft, more romantic, you daresay. he seemed to like taking his sweet time by clutching your face, kissing you like he actually meant it.

he pulls away slightly, resting his forehead against yours as he murmurs something incoherent under his breath and then he's kissing you again.

you think you heard something along the lines of, "finally."

you've been too distracted by jaemin to notice jeno's nimble fingers quickly fumbling with the buttons of your blouse. it was only when you feel the sensation of his tongue laving against the swell of your breast did you turn away from jaemin, jerking backward in surprise.

"no—!"

your scream is cut off by a hand cupping your mouth. jaemin pulls your back towards his chest, molding your body against his as jeno licked and suckled all he wanted, thankful to have the other boy there to not worry about restraining you and keeping you quiet while he has his fun.

"ah, ah, ah," jaemin teases, going hard over the pleading and teary look you sent his way. it looked pathetic, he wasn't going to lie, but it doesn't mean he didn't love it. "just keep still and appreciate jeno's efforts to take care of you, alright baby?"

you don't like how he talked as if this was all a mutual thing, how he talked slowly like you were some toddler who didn't understand anything.

it's cruel how jaemin giggled and basked in your vulnerable state as he kept his eyes pinned on you while undoing the zipper of your skirt. your muffled cries of his name only serving to egg him on.

the way he stared was similar to jeno, too intently and intrusive, like he wants to burn your image of despair in the back of his head.

you whined involuntarily when jeno got bored of all the licking and thus decided to start biting and nipping at your chest instead. he was hypnotised by how responsive you were, how every little bite and nibble made you shudder.

it was a shame that jaemin had to cover your mouth. he didn't get to hear your pretty mewls but it wasn't as if he'd let the night end without hearing them loud and clear.

jaemin is fast in undressing you, feeling slightly betrayed by how quick your skirt and blouse fell under his hands.

you know what he wants, what he's going to do, and the tears fall harder when you can't dodge away from him. forced to endure and accept whatever they give you.

"you act like you don't like it but look how fucking wet you are," you bit your lip hard when jaemin starts circling the pads of his fingers against your clit, fascinated by how more juices streamed down your thighs.

"jeno, do you see this? fuck."

you can only blink in defeat, staring off to the side as you force down any noise bubbling up your throat, forcing yourself to think of anything else other than what's happening right now.

you try not to think about how they managed to tear all of your clothes off while they're left completely dressed. tried not to think about the fingers lazily drawing up and down your slit to collect your essence.

if they're doing this as a way to further humiliate you, it's working.

"slut," jeno mocked, a wicked curl on his lips when he wraps his fingers around your throat. the moment he dives down to claim your lips again is the same time jaemin pushes two fingers inside you.

"look at how wet you are because of me," jaemin whispers hot against your ear and you feel a sick churn in your stomach when you feel his smile against your skin.

he purposely drives his fingers in and out quicker, settjng a brutal pace, wanting you to hear the lewd squelching sounds. "hear that? do you hear that, darling? that's because of me—"

"don't go talking big now, jaem," jeno retorts, pulling away from your lips to start nibbling on the back of your ear. "i was here first. did you see how she fucking reacted when i sucked on her tits?"

you're quick to catch how jeno particularly loved degrading you. but how he talks about you as if you're literally not in front of him naked made you hit a new all-time low.

you felt… filthy.

his hands find purchase on your butt—only because jaemin has already claimed the front. for now.

you close your eyes tight when he painfully squeezes the flesh of your ass. you swear, his blunt nails will paint your skin black and blue.

"i'm the favorite!"

"i'm the favorite!"

as someone who's part of a varsity team, you already knew a competitive nature runs through jaemin's veins. but never had you thought jeno would share the same sentiment. once again they prove that they're cut from the same cloth.

all of a sudden it wasn't all about claiming you as theirs anymore rather it was all about who can make you moan the loudest, who can make you cum the most, who can make you feel the dirtiest you can be.

you're absolutely terrified for the hours to come.

thankfully, they have yet to ask for your verbal opinion or validation. they let your body do all the talking—every repressed shudder and sharp gasp is enough.

but it's game over once they pop the million dollar question.

"who do you like best?"

you don't want to find out the consequences if you actually answered their question because you didn't know what could be worse.

jaemin's manipulation or jeno's aggression?

but it was all normal. trial and error is inevitable in order to build and mold you into the ideal lover for the both of them.

because adding someone new to the mix has never been easy—after all, three's a crowd.

[redheadspark]

5 and 12 from the prompts where the humming song is Mine Forever by Lord Huron, please? Like reader is an Eternal and her and Druig are friends and he knows that she loves this song bc she's always humming it wherever she goes and he uses it to say he's in love with her...I don't know, I'll leave it to you to see how it goes.

Perfect pairing! Sorry for responding to this a day late! I hope you like it :)

5) Walking hand in hand

12) Humming a melody together

Mine Forever

You had a pep in your step, almost a bounce in watch step you took as you were waltzing down the hallway of the Domo to the main meeting room. Your hips were swaying and your smile was on your face as you were humming a particular song that was in your head for some time. You couldn't help but, the song was catchy and almost a folky kind of tempo to it.

The rest of the ship still seemed to be asleep as you made your way to the kitchen, working up a appetite for something hearty and to wake you up. You've only been in space for about a week now, going off to find other Eternals that could be out there and trying to fulfill what they thought their mission was. It seemed like heavy task, and floating out in outer space seemed to be almost...natural for the four of you.

The warrior Thena, the speedster Makkari, the mind controller Druig, and yourself, the eternal who can adapt to any element or threat and survive. Or in a more scientific term: Reactive Adaption.

It was no wonder you were hard to kill at times when you battled a Deviant or went along with the ways of Earth and its evolution. Your body knew how to survive and never die: you sprouted gills when you were under water, you breathed through all the toxins or smoke in the air without suffocating, and your body created its own exoskeleton under enormous pressure. You were the being that could never die, not even by force. In all fairness, you yourself became a major threat and just as dangerous. Almost lethal.

Yet here you were, bopping your head to a corny song you fell in love with on the planet like some weirdo. You were a weirdo.

"It amazes me that you are this peppy so early in the morning, "

You giggled as you heard the mind controller, your best friend in the family of Eternals, stumbling in the kitchen area with a grumble in his voice and laziness in his feet.

"Druig, it's not that early," You replied over your shoulder as you got your eggs out and ready, "You want some?"

"Sure, thanks," He hummed, still sounding sleepy as you kept humming your song and then got out the pots and pans at the ready to use. You were cracking the eggs into the skillet, adding some more ingredients.

"What is that?" Druig asked suddenly ebbing you, though you rocked your Fahd to show they at your were listening as you moved the eggs around in the skillet with a spatula.

"What?" You countered, "We've talked about this: you need to be specific when you asked me something,"

"Har har," Druig said with some annoyance in his voice and it made you smile, "That song you're hummin'. What is it?"

"Oh," you replied, pausing for that moment when he asked you, "It's a song I heard back on Earth. It's called Mine Forever,"

"Sounds...interesting," He replied, though you looked over at him now. He was sporting bed head for certain on his left side, along with some creases and clearly was evident that he slept hard in his bed and he left an indent there. He was wearing a black shirt and red pants, almost mirroring his armor. The bleariness in his eyes as evident that he was still somewhat asleep as you smirked at him and pointed with your Spatula.

"You making fun of my singing?" You asked him, seeing him just chuckle and shrug.

"So what if I was? You’re....decent as it," Druig said, almost teasing you as you cocked your eyebrow at him.

"You're not singing yourself," You replied, going back to work on the breakfast that was sizzling away, "Anywho, I love the song and I love the words to it. It's quite poetic when you listen to it: Love is strange, I can't sleep without you. Maybe in the grave, I can't do it without you...It's kind of sad....really,"

Songs were meant to tell you things, that's what you thought at least. Some songs were filled with life and joy, proclaiming to all who heard how great life was and how much there was to see. Other songs were sad, almost with longing and with lingering feelings that held the person back.

With this song, it tugged at you and you never truly knew why. You didn't know if it was the soft melody and voice that as floating in and out like a cloud, or the tempo that made you think of a study heartbeat. Something had you gravitate back to this song, and it never really crossed your mind as to why.

"It sounds like a good song," Druig hummed behind you, no longing sounding coy and as if he was going to tease you. He sounded genuine when he said it, almost intrigued. You shook off that funk you were feeling, plating the eggs for the pair of your as you nodded your head.

"Leave it to the humans to make such songs that can move any heart," You explained, placing the plate of eggs in front of Druig as he was watching you. You grinned back, your hands on your hips as your motioned you head to him, "Even the weird hearts like yours,"

"Jerk," he replied as he reached down to take a bite. You just stuck on your tongue.

"Liar," You hummed back, seeing him grin as you joined him in your breakfast

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

It was hard seomtimes, being on the Domo and no longer on Earth. You missed all the nosies, all the colors and scents, hearing all the music in the world on that planet. You weren't sad to be on the Domo, not at all. You were happy to be with some of your family to help out Eternals that could still be out there, you felt like you were fulfilling something.

Still, there were times you felt a bit....incomplete.

Maybe it was the close quarters that you haven't had to dealt with for a good 500 years, before you all separated and split up. Or perhaps it was having him around consistently again and getting back into that friendly rhythm you both had together before earlier in your lives on earth. but being around Druig made your mind....wonder a bit.

Did you think about him like....that before?

It didn't help that the ship was a bit smaller than you remembered, seeing him around on the daily with snacks in hand or his nose in a book. You were grateful to have him back in your life, to hear his voice and laughter again to bring you a small amount of joy, and to se his face again that would make your heart flutter or almost stutter for a mere moment or two. Thinking of him would make your cheeks warm and almost red in blush, or have you loose your train of through for a split second. But there was something shifting underneath you, and it involved him.

It scared you so bad.

Your mind went back to that song that you would hum and sing sometimes on your own, and now that you were thinking about Druig in a new way, it almost felt like he would float into your mind when you hummed that song. That natural sensation of Druig and that song melting together organically seemed too good to be true, and you question if what you were feeling for him was expressed in your favorite song?

Everybody lies,

but i'd never doubt you....

Don't wanna die,

but I can't live without you....

Well, shit.

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

5 Days Later

A knock was heard at your door, making you look up as you were attempting to mend a hole in one of your favorite shirts. Druig was poking his head in, seeing what you were doing and he grinned.

"What are you up to in here?" He asked to ask, you slightly rolling your eyes.

"I happen to like this shirt and I wanna keep it around for some time," You explained, then packing the shirt with its thread and needle on the bed, "What's up?"

"I wanted to show you something," He said as he came into the room and closed the door behind him. He had seeming in his hands, hidden behind him while he walked over to sit with you on the bed while you moved your shirt and needle out of the way. Once you two were facing each other, he unveiled what he was hidden in his palms.

An old iPhone.

"You're gonna make a call out here in space?" you couldn't help but tease him about as he chuckled and then tapped a few things on the surface.

"Be nice," he reasoned, "Phastos gave me his old one. It has a library of music on here, you can listen to anything on this thing,"

"You've never had one of these, haven't you?" You questioned him in genuine curiosity.

"Never wanted one, and I didn't need one in the Amazon." Druig explained in a shrug as he finally found a song, "This sound familiar?"

You paused for a moment, then hearing the very song that was floating in your head for some time. The opening rhythm and tone, the soothing sounds of the vocals in the background and the gentle melody being heard between the pair of you. Your smile was grinning so wide as you were hearing the lyrics being sung out in the open air:

If you ever wanna see my face again, I wanna know

If you ever get lonely, please let me know

If you never wanna see my face again, I understand

If you forever gets lonely, take my hand

Your eyes were closed and you were swaying with the song, your soul was feeling lighter than ever from hearing this song and letting it fill you from top to bottom. You were humming, full on humming with no sign of stopping as the song was filling your bedroom.

"How'd did you find this song?" you asked as you kept your eyes closed and you were smiling like an idiot.

"I have my ways," he said to you, "And I figured you would want to hear this song as much as you wanted to,"

"Thank you," You thanked, hearing the song go into the chorus now as you felt yourself being wrapped up in it:

Don't laugh, you'll make me cry

So long, good luck, Goodbye

I know we will be together

In my mind, you're mine forever

In my mind, you're mine forever.....

There as something else that was heard in front of you as you were humming to the song, it made you pause for a split second. It was another sound there, right in fronton you, deep and almost sounding like it was following along with the iPhone.

Druig....was humming...your song with you.

You were amazed at what you were hearing and what was unfolding in front of you, almost making those small feelings and lingering thoughts about Druig come back up again. You two were humming a melody together, a melody you grew to love and clung onto over the last few days on the Domo. it was a melody, a song, that helped you and guided you. And to hear him hum along with it too, it was much more than that now.

"You...like the song?" you asked him in hesitance. He stopped humming then, almost loosing that new trance that was over you in hearing how his humming was getting under your skin and within your soul.

"I do," He answered with no hesitation, "I really like it, even after hearing it over 50 times,"

"Why so many times?" You asked to question Druig.

"Because of the lyrics and what they were sayin'. And I...well," He paused and rubbed the back of his neck for a brief moment like he was nervous to say what was on his mind. You said nothing, knowing not to push him when it came to him being raw with you. Yet as he looked at you, dead on in the eyes and he sat so still, you felt your old heart breaking and a new now forming. He breathed out:

"I want you to be mine forever,"

Before you knew it or stopped yourself, you launched yourself to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him soundly and letting your heart take over your insecure mind. He kissed you back instantly, the pair of you kissing softly and languidly as the song kept playing and giving you more fuel to the fire. You were beyond content in kissing him on your bed, not wishing to reply on maybes or what ifs. It was just as good to feel, to know, that Druig was in the same boat as you.

And as you felt him push you back into your bed, you pulling him to be over you and your fingers in his hair and his hands on your waist, your both heard the song continue to play on the iPhone as your love for one another expanded and blossomed:

I'm much too young to die,

So long, good luck, goodbye,

We will always be together,

In my mind, you're mine forever

In my mind, you're mind forever.

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

You two walked out to breakfast together, walking hand in hand with big grins on your faces. The song still played in your head as you were joking Makkari and Thena, never one letting go of each other's fingers and each other's heart. That was your song now, for the pair of you, and you both were satisfied.

The End.

[procrastination-queenie]

Cheater || JHS

Pairing: Husband!au Hoseok x Pregnant wife!au Reader.

Synopsis: You're mad at your husband for something he didn't do.🤷🏽‍♀️

Warning: None. The reader is emotional because of pregnancy hormones.

Word count: 1,415.

Looking to when you were younger and reflecting now on your present you would consider yourself and your mum to be the best of friends. Thank God for having a healthy relationship with your parents; this allowed you to remember some of your heart-warming and funny moments that you've experienced with them. Your mum was and still is like any other woman who has a daughter would sometimes talk to you about how her day went, what made her happy, what made her super mad and so on, so it was not strange to confide in you with the silliest things that bothered her deeply. One of which those things that you oh so prayed to never pick up from her was how she tended to get suspicious of your dad because of a bad dream she has had.

"I think your dad is cheating on me!" She said, eyes widening, gazing at nothing probably recalling the events in her head.

"What makes you think that?" You asked turning upon hearing her sudden confession.

"I dreamt about it!" She answered you back with this certain tone as if to say 'duh' minus the eye roll.

Of course, it was not enough evidence to start doubting your dad, plus you assured her that your dad would never do such a thing because you knew him like the back of your hand. So, the matter would be brushed off with some laughter, joking about the whole thing with an "I can't believe you, mum!" Sometimes, after these little outbursts, if you may call it that, you prayed for your future-self to not be like your mum or like those women who suddenly think suspiciously of their partners because of a dream. It's not that there was something wrong about it; you just simply found it to be silly, and you didn't need to frighten off the opposite sex; it's enough how they freak out when you question them about the date of the day, and they start stuttering feeling like it's an important date that they've forgotten about and how they will never hear the end of it. So, you trusted your future-self to be the open-minded person you expected her to be and not get mad over such mundane things.

This; however, could not be applied to your state right now because fast forward a few years from that moment you've shared with your mum, here you are heavily pregnant during the last days of your 2nd trimester, washing the dishes with so much anger radiating off you as if the dishes were to blame for your current state. You feel so disappointed for letting down your younger-self; however, you can't shake off the feeling of betrayal and distress right now.

Poor Hoseok didn't know how to approach you since you woke up today with that attitude of yours, brushing it off as your pregnancy hormones, and that you were probably getting tired of carrying all that load around. He couldn't imagine the discomfort you were feeling, yet the alarming sound of the China dishes, that you both bought together before your wedding, being treated harshly made him sink into the sofa deeper and deeper hoping that it would somehow swallow him, shielding him from any possible outbursts, until your not so silent tantrum is over. This kind of behaviour confused him, it really did because your attitude screamed 'I AM MAD, AREN'T YOU GOING TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT?' but then again he remembers every single time he has tried to approach you since this morning to find out what's wrong, only to be met with the bloody red eyes of Scarlett the witch, something that definitely made him rethink the decision of approaching you in the first place. Nevertheless, the way that you slammed the plates and cups made him worry that you might hurt yourself in the process of trying to calm down by slamming everything you laid hands on.

Sighing, talking himself into why he can't back out now from talking to you, he reluctantly got up and walked towards you with a smile on his face that clearly displayed 'Please don't kill me,' on his features. "Babe do you need any hel-"

"BACK OFF, YOU CHEATER!" Your sudden outburst scared him before his face turned pale like a lily flower withering. Cheater? "How could you do this to me?" Putting down the dish that occupied your hand and the sponge that you were using. Hoseok ran over to you from behind the counter that he agreed with himself, during his pep talk before he approached you, to stand behind in case you decided to throw something at him. He turned off the faucet and turned you towards him so that you were facing him. "Y/n, what are you talking about?" He asked wiping away your tears. Cheater? Was some article released about him having an affair? Did someone tell you something? Did you misunderstand a photo that was probably taken of him with a fellow female artist that may have raised speculations? Because as far as your husband is aware he didn't drunkenly cheat on you, and he would never do such a thing because you were the love of his life. Why would he cheat on you? Hoseok was trying to calm you down so that you can answer the questions that were plaguing his mind in order for him to fix any misunderstanding if there's any.

"Tell me, do you love her that much to the point that you would leave your pregnant wife and run away with her? Huh?" You said looking at your husband, accusation burning through your eyes. "What?! Who are you even talking about?" Hoseok frowned reaching his peak of confusion.

"Amanda Seyfried!" You burst again looking at him as if how could he not know something like that.

Hoseok looked at you in disbelief, he has never in his entire life met Amanda Seyfried, yes he mentioned once before in an interview that she was his celebrity crush, and that was even before he met you, so he didn't understand what all the hype was about. "Babe, I've never met her! How could you accuse me of cheating on you with her when I never met her before?"

"I dreamt about it! Last night, you to-told me that you d-didn't love me anymore and that you're better off with her. Y-y-you also said that you wanted blond and blue-eyed b-babies!" You explain crying, again as you recalled the pain that you felt during the nightmare. It felt so real that you woke up with a pounding heart and teary eyes. "Why would I say that?" Hoseok stifled a laugh, reminding himself that these are just your hormones getting the best of you and that you're never like this. "Because you want your babies to look like her, the love of your life, that's what you said," you sniffed, wiping your eyes and nose. Hoesok laughed as he couldn't contain it anymore, "why are you laughing?" You pouted, frowning your eyebrows trying to look mad at him. "Baby, I would never, ever leave you for Amanda Seyfried," he laughed, pulling you into a warm hug to ease your nerves. "But it felt so real, it felt like you were really leaving me to be with her!" You pouted as you were about to cry again, making Hoseok take your face between his hands, thumb brushing your cheeks gently to calm you down. "I am so sorry baby you felt like that," he said pulling you in his arms, again. His heart clenched at your distress. "Come on, let's go sit down, you've been standing for too long," he said walking you slowly towards the sofa. Hoseok sat down as he laid your head on his lap, caressing your hair softly as you both watched the t.v. "y/n!" You hummed looking up at him. "I don't want blond and blue-eyed babies," he said smiling down at you. "You don't?" You asked softly, eyes filled with hope, like a kid on Christmas eve that hopes his name would be on Santa's list of the well-behaved children, as he told you so. "No, I don't." He answered shaking his head to put your thoughts at ease. "Good! Otherwise, you'd be dead!" Hoseok laughed at your sudden change of attitude, portrayed in your sharpe tone, knowing that you were not talking seriously and that it's just your hormones.