#dirty shine album

[mermaidinthecity]

Ride Or Die by ZZ Ward

[fulltulips]

bed chem - l.dh ; part o n e

description: what happens when you finally come face to face with the one and only notorious playboy!haechan...? you can't help but wonder your bed chem with him.

pairing: lee haechan x fem reader

genres: fluff, smut, college au

warnings: alcohol and smoking mentions, pet names, kissing, vulgarities, suggestive sexual activities, drunk mentions, reader uses her/she pronouns

author's note:

hihii !! this is my first ever post... so please be nice and I hope you enjoy this ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ♡ recently i’ve been listening to short n sweet album !! and i love bed chem sooooooo much ˘͈ᵕ˘͈ so i got the idea of writing this fic !! do lmk if you guys might want a entire series of short n sweet with other members hehe

location: home

“come onnnn y/n! i promised the dreamies i would be there at the party at mark’s houseee!” renjun whined as he tugged on your cherry patterned silk pyjamas.

“okay…go then?? i don’t understand why i would have to go with you??” you lazily said as you continued watching bridgerton without sparing renjun a glance.

“because you’re my best friend? and plus the dreamies have been wanting to meet my housemate for so long!”

ever since college began a year ago, renjun was in search of a place to stay in and luckily then you were in search of a housemate.

it was awkward in the beginning to say the least…

you had never lived with a boy your entire life until college but luckily renjun was the nicest guy ever, you guys instantly clicked and became great friends.

well renjun could’ve stayed with his dreamies friends that you’ve never met but renjun claims it’s too dirty and messy to live with 6 other boys.

you wouldn’t even dare to imagine the chaos…

“okay but what’s in it for me if i go?” you sighed, finally turning over to look at renjun.

“you’ll finally step out of the house and interact like a normal social functioning human?” renjun sarcastically replied giving the most “duhh” face.

although that was sarcastic, it was true… you hadn’t stepped out of the house since the semester break had began last week.

you’ve just been lazing at home with the same routine everyday.

you woke up in the late afternoons, ate lunch, binged watch your favourite shows till midnight before you finally ate your dinner and continued watching shows till you fell asleep.

the only person you communicated in the past week was only renjun but he was always out and about.

a huge difference between the two of you…

you were definitely comfortable but upon hearing renjun’s statement made you realise just how much you’ve been living like a cavewoman…

“fine! i’ll go with you… ONLY because i cant keep living like a cavewoman…” you finally stood up from the couch and got to your room to change and get ready.

“10minutes is all you get y/n!” renjun yelled.

pfft… 10minutes? in his dreams…

20 minutes later

“y/n! YOU MUST MAKE HASTE!!” renjun yelled.

(bridgerton reference hehe)

“i’m ready!! geez calm down renjun” you walked out of your room in a sheer white babydoll dress as you finished touching up on your lip tint .

“gosh i could fly back and forth between korea and china and you still wouldn’t have finished getting ready” renjun joked erupting laughter from both of you.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚

location: mark’s house, at the party

the moment renjun and you had arrived at the party…

my oh my… you could feel the bass vibrations of the music through your ears and the ground.

it was obvious this is mark’s house.

with vibrant neon flashing lights shined and lighted up the house as the lights peeked it’s way out of the windows giving the dark neighbourhood some sort of lighting.

you couldn’t imagine how badly your eyes were gonna hurt the moment you stepped into the party.

“hey! renjun you’re finally came!” a pretty boy with the biggest grin welcomed renjun.

“i would’ve been here earlier if miss given 10 minutes didn’t take so long…” renjun complained.

man… this dude won’t ever let this slide anymore…

“oh? she’s your housemate? you didn’t tell me she’s this beautiful? hi ! i’m na jaemin nice to meet you” jaemin introduced himself with sparkles in his eyes.

warmth crept up your cheeks as you’ve never had someone directly compliment you like this.

“hi…? im y/n… nice to meet you?” you shyly greeted back feeling nervous while jaemin held the most intense eye contact with you while you were mess looking everywhere but jaemin in the eye.

“you’re so cute like a tiny bear! gosh i would keep you in my pockets if i could!!” jaemin grinned and patted your head.

you could feel even more warmth rushing up this time round.

“okay jaems i don’t need you flirting with my housemate. my house is the last place i need you to be in” renjun rolled his eyes as jaemin held his hands up as if he was surrendering.

you chuckled lightly loving their friendship banter.

“let’s go find the others they’re waiting! come on little bear” jaemin told renjun as he slung his arm around your shoulders.

although it felt weird having a arm around your shoulder with a random dude you just met… it made the party felt less taunting honestly.

squeezing pass a body of strangers was the worst feeling ever but having jaemin’s arm to guide you made you felt safer while you could smell the beer coming from jaemin’s breath.

“alright guys! meet y/n! she is renjun’s housemate” jaemin stopped in front a place with a couch and a few beanbags placed with 4 other boys there.

you shyly waved at them

“hi!! im chenle nice to finally meet you!! ya! jisung quick say hi” chenle excitedly nudged this tall guy sat beside him which you assumed to be jisung.

“hi im jisung…” he muttered

“don’t worry about jisung he’s quite shy with new people” jaemin whispered to you as he stood beside you.

“hi jisung! nice to meet you” you mustered the friendliest greeting you could give and waved at jisung which he returned.

“hi y/n ! im jeno” jeno introduced as he smiled forming crescent moons gathering attention to the beautifully placed mole beneath his eye.

“ayo wassup im mark! you can mark me in your hea-”

“ok that’s enough mark!!” everyone interrupted mark’s introduction.

“aw dude i was hoping to say it once tonight” mark sulked as he took another sip from his red cup.

you couldn’t help but laugh at their silliness.

“wait where’s haechan hyung?” jisung questioned.

“probably sucking off a girl’s face or smoking right now” renjun said like it was the most natural thing ever.

“whatever he’ll find his way back later. come sit y/n !! do you want a drink? i can get it for you”chenle said as he patted the empty seat on the couch beside you.

“oh that’s okay i can get it myself! does anyone want anything from the kitchen?” you smiled appreciating the offer from chenle before you asked the group.

everyone shook their heads with some saying thanks.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚

you squeezed past the bodies of strangers again with random turns and passes until you finally found the kitchen.

but of course… another obstacle was in your way…

like a literal obstacle.

two humans making out in-front of the fridge making it impossible to get your drink.

you coughed lightly in hopes of getting their attention…

nothing.

“excuse me…?” you softly said.

still nothing.

“uhm hi… if you could just excuse me-” you said as you tapped the guy’s shoulders.

“what?” he scoffed, rolled his eyes before he finally faced you.

‘i was in a sheer dress the day that we met’

you felt the world stopped.

the music tuned out and you could feel your breathe stolen away.

you were faced with a guy with beautiful honey skin and a pair of the softest brown eyes despite the heavy smudged eyeliner.

he had beauty marks on his face that formed constellations.

he towered over you allowing his scent to engulf you. it was mix of woody scent, alcohol and cigarettes.

he stood tall as he dressed in in a black singlet and jeans with a classic black leather jacket over his shoulders.

the girl he made out with was long gone, it was just the two of you staring at each other in the kitchen.

it was safe to say you were attracted to this man in-front of you knowing well he screamed bad news.

the longer he stood and looked at you, his eyes softened.

you stood in-front of him, doe eyed, full of innocence in your white sheer dress and your pink pouty lips.

“fuck…” he thought in his head.

the same you thought. from just his appearance you could feel wetness pooling in your pink laced thongs.

you couldn’t help but wondered what was your bed chem with him.

he was the complete opposite of you, he embodied bad news, he was dark and mysterious, like a thunderstorm.

but you were different, you were alluring, you were like a breeze in a garden on spring day, like a breath of fresh air.

“cat got your tongue love?” he finally broke the silence.

“huh..oh.. uhm i just wanted to get a drink from the fridge sir?” you stuttered as you looked down at the ground barely gathering any courage to speak up.

weirdly the endearment felt so smooth when he called you as if he has always called you in that your entire life.

he found you so adoring.

but the way you said sir, made him felt something in him stir.

“did you just call me sir?” he questioned feeling intrigued.

“well… i don’t know your name” you finally looked up at him.

“don’t go around calling any guy sir randomly love. you don’t know what it does.” he leaned forward closing the distance between both your faces as he cups your face in his rough hand.

what a hypocrite this man was calling you love…

you could smell the mix of alcohol and cigarettes in his breath, which you usually hate but somehow you didn’t mind when it was with him.

“yo hyuck! finally i found you come be my beer pong partner- oh? y/n you finally met haechan!”

‘we were both in a rush we talked for a sec’

‘your friend hit me up so we could connect’

oh… so he’s renjun’s friend… haechan… haechan… hyuck?

haechan removed his hand from your cheeks, somehow you felt sad from the loss of comforting warmth from him.

“haechan this is y/n! she’s renjun’s housemate” mark staggered his way over to you and swinging his arm across your shoulders clearly losing his senses to alcohol soon.

“alright let’s get going beer pong championship achiever” haechan rolled his eyes as he removed mark’s arm from your shoulders.

“lessgooooooo!” mark excitedly exclaimed as he exited the kitchen to the beer pong table.

“i’ll see you around love” he patted your head with a smirk on his face and left with a wink.

blush crept up to your cheeks, you could feel yourself physically feeling hotter.

you quickly got your drink from the fridge and left to sit on the couch with the rest of the dreamies.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚

but the whole night you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander towards haechan standing at the beer pong table.

with the occasional glances and winks haechan would give you was not safe for your heart.

there was no denying you found haechan attractive.

but how could it be when you just met him?

“y/n? you good? you’ve been staring at haechan?” chenle questioned.

you’ve been exposed.

“oh? no i wasn’t… i think i’m just tired i tend to usually blank out” what in the stupidest excuse.

“aite it’s time to head back stoned y/n! let’s goooo” renjun stood up from the beanbag and walked towards the door.

“whaaaaat we just met stay longer little bear!” jaemin whined with rosy cheeks and eyes that were barely focusing on you anymore.

“sorry guys it’s late i should head back now… we can hang out sometime soon again tho” you suggested with a smile on your face.

jeno smiled and gave a okay sign with his hands before he waved bye.

before you could even step out of the house, a hand grabs your wrist.

you turned to find haechan holding onto you.

“leaving so soon love?” he cocked his eyebrow as he bent down to reach your height, making both of you face to face now.

you stumbled back a little, shock from the barely existent distance between the two of you.

haechan’s hands found it’s way behind your waist supporting you from tripping. you felt your breathe hitched from the contact.

his hands were warm but the silver rings he had on gave a cold touch to your waist. you love his touch, you craved for it and wished to be held by him as long as you can.

you couldn’t help but wonder how his touch would feel all around your body, playing with your tits as his other hand fingers you making you cum all over his fingers.

and watching him lick your cum all off his fingers and your pussy.

“i bet we would have really good bed chem…” you thought to yourself.

as you looked into his eyes this time, it held softness and sincerity different from when you had first met. you could feel his hot breath against you while you were quite literally holding onto your breath.

he smelled so good, you just wanted to be around him all day but you had to remind yourself, you had just met.

“yea it’s getting late and renjun’s already waiting so…”

“before you go…” he hands you his phone with his keypad on display.

you looked at him with questions in your eyes.

“what’s your phone number love? i need to keep in contact with you don’t i?” haechan chuckles as he jokingly uses his finger to push your forehead.

he looks so good smiling, like a bright sun on a cloudy day.

“oh! you could get it from renjun tho…” you said while keying in your phone number on his phone.

“if i get it from renjun, i wouldn’t have a chance to talk to you right now don’t i? and i wouldn’t be able to give you this.”

“huh? give wha-” suddenly you felt a pair of warm lips on your forehead.

“goodnight sweet dreams love. get home safe, text me when you’re home” he smiles and ruffles your hair.

oh haechan… what are you doing to my heart…

[trendywaifus]

↳ i fantasize about you all the time!

the girls can’t get you off of their mind so they jerk off to you.

featuring — transfem! march 7th, stelle, bronya, kafka x fem!reader

cw: pillow humping, cursing, grinding, cream pie, facefucking, masterbation, pet names, not proofread

sighing happily, march plops onto her plush bed. her recent mission was incredible and felt like a fresh breath of air compared to the previous ones that involved wild goose chases and non-stop wrongly arrests. the planet she visited was beautiful; full of breathtaking sights, delicious foods, large cities, and for once, normal people.

with her precious camera in hand, she goes to her recent photo album and browses through series of photos she took over the duration of the mission. there was a few particular pictures that made her smile and shake her head—stelle messing around with a few exotic monkeys while you were nearly kneeling over laughing and danheng standing there looking awfully dumbfounded in the background. warmth floods her body when her gaze observes your pretty face; parted plush lips spilling with laughter, literal tears in your crinkled eyes, the way the sun shined so perfectly on your face—aeons, you were gorgeous.

“ geez, i feel so mushy inside now. “ she giggles, skimming over a few pictures, only taking a few seconds to look at them. it went from gorgeous scenery, animals, group photos, to you. march abruptly stops at a photo of you idly eating a slice of cheese cake. she eyes your pink lips wrapped around the fork and then her gaze shifts to the blissful expression on your face. she remembers the soft, dulcet moan you produced after taking a bite of the slice of cheesecake. gosh, did it really taste that good to make you moan like that? well, it was delicious but seriously?

without thinking, march takes her bottom lip between her teeth. all that aside, you sounded so pretty. march can’t help but imagine those pretty lips wrapped her dick. blood rushes down her abdomen and she feels herself getting hard. heat rushes in her cheeks as dirty thoughts of you fills her mind. “ not again. .” she groans, glancing down at the growing bulge poking out from her skirt. she feels ashamed for thinking about you this way; you’re her best friend after all.

“ ugh. .” she sighs, carefully setting her camera to the side. march adjusts herself to tug her skirt and panties down to her plush thighs, freeing her hardened length. she wraps her hand around the base and work her way up. closing her eyes, she envisions you kissing her cockhead while grinning up at her with roguish eyes. “ don’t just look at me like that.” march groans, softly squeezing herself. she can almost hear you giggle in response and take her inside your hot mouth, teasingly circling your tongue around her tip.

“ aeons, please st-stop teasing me, (name). . “ march moans, throwing her head back in frustration as she hurriedly drags her palm back down her cock. she imagines your head slowly lowering down until your mouth hits her abdomen. her dick is pretty average and little more on the skinny side, so you shouldn’t have to worry much about gagging. march lets out a soft moan, buckling her hips as she starts to speed up her strokes. pleasure courses through her body like a wildfire.

“it feels so good, keep doing that, (name)–please. . !” she begs, focusing her attention on her leaking tip, smearing precum along the shaft. she falls back on the mattress, covering her mouth with her free hand as a high pitched moan escapes her lips. she repeatedly thrusts her cock into her hand, imagining herself sloppily mouth fucking you. “ ah, c’mon, just like that—i’m gonna cum soon! “ march breathes, arching her back in pleasure. she feels a familiar knot twisting and turning in her belly which only prompt her to go faster. despite her hand burning with exhaustion, she maintains her pace.

the thought of you peering up at march with hazy eyes as she’s desperately fucking your mouth drove her over the edge. “ cumming—cumming! “ she nearly screams in a muffled voice, eyes rolling to the back of her head as cum spurts out from her cock and spills all over her thighs and the sheets.

her cock twitches as she slowly ceases her movement, easing herself down from her high. filled with ecstasy, she sighs deeply.

she wishes you were more than her best friend.

grumbling, stelle tosses and turns in bed, restless as she’s unable to fall asleep. heaving out a small sigh of frustration, she lays on her back. “ maybe i should of had a warm glass of milk before bed or asked for another room. “ she mumbles, running a hand through her grey locks. you’d think a luxurious hotel would have fairly soft beds but nope. instead, the mattress felt more on the harder side and bumpy. she wonders if march and danheng had similar beds like hers.

“ even if my bed’s terrible to sleep in, i still would sleep better if (name) was here. .” stelle whines, longing to be cuddled up in your arms and nuzzled up against you. she wants her face buried in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent while your nimble fingers soothingly comb through her hair. stelle whimpers softly, imagining your hand running down her back and slipping under her shirt to massage the warm skin underneath.

stelle instinctively palms herself through her sweatpants, breath hitched as her cock twitches. “ (name). .” she lowly groans, pretending that you’re the one rubbing her, whispering sweet promises into her ear—whispering about how you wanna ride her thick cock until she’s milked dry. “ wanna fuck you. .” stelle whispers out, screwing her eyes shut as she lets herself get swallowed up by lust and desire.

“ please let me, please. .” stelle begs, hurriedly pulling down her sweatpants and boxers just enough for her stiff cock to spring out from its fabric confinements. she takes herself in her hand and strokes her swollen red tip. she imagines flipping you over on your stomach and have your hips up in the air, displaying your pretty ass and pussy to her. stelle’s length twitches with excitement. she’d knead your ass and tease your drooling entrance with her cockhead, coating it with your juices before slipping inside.

“ shit. .! “ stelle groans, fist pumping her cock. all she could think about is your pussy clamping around her as she fills you up, bottoming you out. she desperately wishes you were here so her imagination can become reality. your cunt is far more perfect than her hand. she huffs in frustration, stopping herself mid stroke. she turns herself around on her stomach and props her elbows against the mattress. she snatches the pillow and situates it under her so her cock is pressed up against it.

another groan escapes her lips as she slowly drags herself along the smooth, warm surface. a sense of relief and lust washes over her. “ so much better. .” she chokes out, rolling her hips against the pillow, beads of precum darkening the thin covering. she envisions the pillow being you; getting fucked into the mattress while you’re nothing but a moaning mess. stelle throws her head back in ecstasy at the mere thought. she moves her hips faster, each thrust pushing her closer to her orgasm.

mind clouded with lust, drool dribbles down her chin. “ wanna cum inside (name)—please, i’ve been good. .! “ stelle moans out, the bed creaks as her pace becoming more feverish and sloppy. she can hear your sweet voice in her head, telling her to cum and not a moment later, she does just that. “ c-cumming. .! “ she whimpers loudly, thrusting one last time before her hips stutters, ropes of cum shoots all over the pillow and her stomach.

hair sticks to her sweaty forehead as her head droops down to see the mess she’s made. “ how am i going to clean this up. .” she wonders tiredly, slowly catching her breath.

“ you sure you don’t want me to bring you back anything while i’m out? “ you asked with a warm smile, massaging bronya’s tense shoulders. she melts under your touch, sighing in content. “ it’s fine my love, don’t trouble yourself. you’ve been stuck here with me for quite awhile, i preferred if you go out and get some fresh air. “ she answers, turning her head a bit to give you a loving smile.

“ if you say so. “ you dipped down to place a lingering kiss on bronya’s lips, delicately running your hands down her arms before detaching yourself away to leave. her cheeks turns pink from the simple gesture and she waves you goodbye with a shy smile as you exit her office. grabbing her pen, bronya’s gaze returns back to the current document she was working on.

after forty minutes of signing and reading lengthy documents, the sudden memory of you running your hands down her arms as you kissed her pops into her mind. she swallows thickly, why was she thinking about that? it was just a simple innocent gesture shared between lovers. bronya adjusts herself in her chair, loosely crossing her legs, setting her ankle on the opposite knee. shame swells in her chest as indecent thoughts flows through her head. bronya’s only been with you for a couple of months now and if something like that is able to rile her up then she’s going to have to get use to it.

her cheeks turns darker as she feels her cock grow hard against her tights. she sighs exasperatedly, grabbing a fistful of her hair in utter annoyance. bronya tries to resume her work and did her best to ignore it but she couldn’t. when she attempts to think about something else other than you, she couldn’t either. bronya’s very confident to say she’s well–disciplined but it seems to be not true when it comes to you.

“ i musn’t. .” she whispers, voice strained as the thought of masterbating in her office enters her mind. if she makes too much noise, the guards present outside of the double doors might get alerted. not to mention, you’re also coming back soon, considering you left about forty minutes ago. she can’t face anyone—especially you like this. if you were to walk in right now, you’ll see bronya’s cheeks stained with a deep red and a look of frustration on her face.

she has to have some sort of relief if she wants to think clearly again. this will be the first and last time she’ll ever do this. tentative, she uncrosses her legs and leans her back against the chair. her deft fingers snakes under her dress to rub her clothed length. she nearly sighs in relief as she runs her gloved palm along down the shaft. chewing on her lip, bronya’s eyes flutters closed as she gives in to the lewd thoughts plaguing her mind.

bronya sees herself bending you over on her desk, peppering kisses along your back while rocking her hips against your ass. she can hear you beautifully gasp as she roams a hand down your stomach to play with your clit. “ you don’t have to worry about a thing, sweetheart, allow me to take you here. “ she softly moans, gently squeezing herself through her tights. if you let her, she’ll first fuck your thighs, slotting her cock between the supple flesh and indulge herself.

precum leaks out of her tip, causing a small dark patch to form on her tights. aeons, bronya can just feel it; your thighs squeezing her while she slowly thrusts between them. a gentle moan surges from her chest. her hips buckles, eagerly pushing up against her palm. the supreme guardian desperately wants to free her arching length from the fabric confinements to please herself properly but she’s afraid of going further.

in bronya’s fantasy, she’s pulling herself away from your thighs and if you give her permission to, she’ll finish all over your pretty back. she lets out a shaky sigh, trying her best to fist pump her shaft. “ i’m going to enter inside now, okay sweetheart? “

she knows that her dick is little more on the heavier side so she’ll try her best to be gentle. excitement fills her chest at the thought of your gummy walls welcoming her cock while she settles inches in you. once fully inside, she’ll fuck you ever so lovingly against the desk. “ mmph, as expected you’re taking me so well. . . “ she whispers, increasing her pace and roughly rubbing her palm against her swollen tip.

“ you feel so wonderful, my love—i’m nearly there. . !” bronya breathes, feeling tension rise in her belly. her hips are nearly off the seat of the chair as she desperately rolls and grinds her cock into her hand. sweat rolling down her brow, chest heaving heavily as she breathed, her flushed face crunched up with pleasure—she swears if anyone barges in to see her like this, they’ll think she’s having some sort of rare panic attack.

her hand flies to her mouth, muffling a loud broken moan as the tension in her abdomen tightens until it becomes utterly unbearable. before she knows it, a large patch of her tights is sticky and drenched with cum. bliss wraps around her like a blanket and her mind becomes clear again. she lets out a deep sigh, back slightly slouched against the chair. the underlying sense of shame doesn’t mix well with the satisfaction she’s feeling right now.

when bronya hears the doors creak open and your excited voice calling out to her, she immediately straightens her back up, fixes her dress, and grabs her pen; acting as if she didn’t cum at the thought of fucking you right where she sits.

“ welcome back, my love. “ she musters up a warm smile as you approached with a few bags in hand, trying her best to not appear undone.

kafka lazily takes the last sip of her wine and places the empty glass on a small table next to her. “ hmm. .” she sighs, resting her cheek on her palm with a bored look on her beautiful bare face. soft classical music idly plays in the background as she thought about what to do for the night. resting in her own room while drinking wine and listening to her playlist is peaceful, but she’s starting to get a bit restless. bothering her fellow colleagues were out the question since it’s already late.

clad in a black robe, kafka stands up from her chair and sits on her bed. when she glances over at her phone on the nightstand, you immediately come into mind. it’s been months since you two broken up and to be truthful, she regrets letting you leave her and the stellaron hunters. but since you’re in the astral express crew now, she doesn’t have to worry much about your safety. also, elios did say you and her were going to cross paths one day as well.

but fuck, during nights like this when she had you, you’d already be folded like a pretzel on her bed getting stuffed full of her dick. kafka wonders what you’re doing right now. are you thinking about her like how she’s thinking about you? well, you should be. she made sure to convey her love for you in all different types of ways and positions before you left. hell, if you were to contact her right now and ask for her to prove herself, she’ll be there within an hour. sneaking on the astral express train is extremely easy. but apparently, you want nothing to do with her which she believes is a poor lie, but oh well.

a sly smirk tugs on her lips as a exciting idea settles in her head. “ my pretty girl wouldn’t mind. “ she says, moving her robe a bit to wrap her fingers around her hard length in one hand while the other grabs the phone from the nightstand. stroking herself a few times, she goes to her camera and angles herself so everything below her neck is only showing then she presses record. kafka smoothes her hand up her cock. “ ya know, darling, if you were here right now, i wouldn’t even let ya sleep.” she drawls, a soft chuckle escapes her lips. she imagine being in between your legs, eating out that pretty pussy of yours. fuck, you’d taste so good on her tongue right now.

or better yet, your pretty lips sucking her length while she sips her wine. you use to be so eager to please her and she’d always return the favor. that was one of many things she loved about you. she releases a breathy moan, pumping her shaft into her hand. purple tresses spills from her shoulders as her head tilts to the side. “ fuck, i miss you baby. .” she moans, biting her lip. she starts to feel herself grow desperate at the thought of pushing your knees against your chest and splitting you open with her fat cock. she wonders, what type of expression you’ll make? perhaps that one fucked out expression of yours where its clear that you’re drunk off her dick; face twisted with pleasure, wild (e/c) eyes filled with nothing but infatuation and lust, and swollen lips parted open.

“ i know you miss me—i just know you do, darling. . !” kafka’s practically fisting her cock, jerking her hips up to meet the strokes of her hand, not caring if her robe becomes undone. she bets you’ll take it like a champ as she reshapes your tight pussy. “ such a good girl for me, baby. fuck, i wanna cum all over your pretty pussy. i know you’ll like that, yeah?” kafka rasps, swiping her thumb over her drooling tip to use the precum as lube.

“ damn, i might actually cum faster than i expected. . ! “ she groans through gritted teeth and then forces out a strained laugh. she feels a knot tighten in her stomach. desperate to cum, her fist pumps becomes less aimed and more sloppy. “ keep your eyes on me, darling—i-i’m going to cum!“ kafka moans out, throwing her head back in pure ecstasy as ropes of cum spurts from her cock and spills all over her.

kafka mumbles out a small string of curses while smiling at the mess she made on herself. she felt no shame when she ends the recording and sends the video to you.

if anything, she wishes that you were here to clean her up by licking the cum off her half naked body.

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

PREACHERS DAUGHTER- P.B PARKER

Pairing: Best Friend! Peter x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: you and peter were complete opposites, you the goodie two shoes preachers daughter, him the bad boy next door. yet fate has pulled the two of you together, and you can’t help but feel a certain lust for him.

Warnings: ORAL (fem), teasing, kissing, marking, pet names, best friends falling in luvvv, swearing, weed involved, booze mentioned, praise kink, masturabtion mentioned, lotsss of dirty talk, peter blowing smoke into reader mouth

based of the album- preachers daughter, by ethel cain

It was mesmerizing- the way his fingers moved. 

You felt as if you were under a trance, the watch on the chain swinging back in forth in front of your eyes, hypnotizing you. 

His rings, silver and shining in the pale moonlight the clock hands, the veins that ran up his wrists acted as the numbers that blurred together after some time. 

Each component drew you in as his fingers strummed each string, moving up and down the fingerboard to play each chord, a sweet melody emerging from the instrument. 

Your mind was far, far off from the homework you swore to yourself you would be doing tonight, despite having your best friend over. You knew you couldn't focus on anything but him, yet you let him slip through your window, with the cracked and peeling paint you refused to paint over- because you and Peter were the reason for its damage. 

You refused to change anything he had touched or wrecked, whether that be the broken dresser handle that was hanging on for dear life, or the jumble of photos the two of you had pasted on your walls while drunk out of your minds.

 They looked awful, all crooked and cluttered to fuck, but you didn’t touch them. 

Refused to. If Peter placed them there, that's where they stayed. 

You looked up at them now, gaze focusing on the smiling faces that stared back at you, that watched over your every move- in a comforting sense. Their presence lingered, as you peered back over to Peter, following the sound of strum from the strings, the sound coming to a screeching halt as he suddenly fished for something in his ripped jean pocket. 

He was so beautiful when he was concentrated. 

The subtlety bite of his lip, pearly whites tugging on the flesh with a sense of urgency as his jaw would clench. The way his messy, slightly ruffled russet hair would fall in front of his eyes, rings glimmering as he slid his hand through the locks to push it back into place. 

You wanted to run your fingers through his hair, wanted to tug on them to make him hiss in pleasure, the way he did the one night he had decided to use your thighs as a pillow. Peter's reaction was tenuous, a slight growl escaping from the cage of his clenched teeth.

 You noticed, though. You always noticed, when it came to him. 

“Bunny? You want one?” he asked softly, pre-rolled in blunt twirling between his large fingers, making you stare in awe. 

“Bun?” 

Oh shit, you were staring. 

“N-no Pete it’s okay. I’m good for now.” you smiled, a heat rising to your cheeks as you forced yourself to stare back down at your tattered notebook filled with scribbles and numbers you had no clue what to do with.

 It was better than looking at his fingers and getting caught again. 

Anything was. 

“Alright pretty but you let me know if you want one okay? Your asshole of a father won't find out, if that's what you're worried about.” he chuckled softly, throwing you a wink as he toyed with the drug, a cat with its dinner.

 Of course that's what you were worried about. You were the minister's daughter, a holy saint if there ever was one. The good girl, your father's little angel. 

We have a reputation to uphold Y/L/N. Don't mess it up, or there'll be consequences. Big ones. 

You had followed his words as he did with passages in that dog-eared bible of his, the rosemary beads sprawled out as a bookmark for his pages. 

So, how in the world did Peter Parker- the boy wrapped in sin your father warned you about, end up as your best friend, the man you trusted with your life? You didn't know, but you were thankful for it. 

It made you laugh every time Peter offered you a smoke, he knew your answer had never changed, yet he always offered anyways. He was sweet that way. It was different with weed, you supposed. 

You were always terrified your father would be able to see right through you, be able to sniff the drugs on you like a hound dog. You made excuses for booze. 

Your father provided red wine during Sunday services, the blood of the lord for all to taste, cannibalism in its cleanest, purest form. Counting on two hands the number of times you and Peter had snuck into the old, gothic church your father managed, getting drunk off the wine in the wooden pews under the stained glass windows was impossible. 

You watched as Peter leaned his guitar against the windowsill, grabbing a lighter from his other pocket, the snake tattoos curled and wrapped along his finger seeming to hiss at you in the dim light of your room. 

“Peter?” you called, making his head snap up, the fire from his light diminishing as fast as it came. “C-can I light it for you?” you asked shyly, watching as that boyish grin that you loved so much came to his face, dimples appearing as he took you in, realizing you were serious. 

“You wanna be an angel and help me out eh?” he teased, making you nod frantically. 

Angel. 

The words alone had your toes curling in your thigh-high socks you knew Peter adored, his fingers always seeming to toy with the little black bows whenever he got the chance. He towered over you even more than he already did as he stood, making his way over to where your body was lounging on the ruffled white sheets. 

“Dad’s not home ya know. I forgot about that.” you tugged on your inner cheek, watching as Peter dropped to his knees before you, like a devil about to spread its wings. 

Begging for mercy before you. 

“Does that mean you do wanna hit then?” he asked, blunt between his teeth as your thumb flicked the flame to life, watching the blues and oranges crackle as you lit his joint. 

“Don’t know how.” you shrugged, watching as he exhaled, the sweet sickly smell of weed filling your senses as he exhaled.

 “We can try something if you want bunny. D’trust me?” You nodded, eager to obey his commands. He smiled, rings cold against your chin as he grabbed it lightly, the pads of his fingers slightly calloused from the strings. 

“Say ahh bunny.” You opened your mouth widely, the smoke he had inhaled floating into your mouth as he exhaled, fogging up your lungs. He was so close you could hear the thud of his heartbeat, could feel the soft heat rolling off him in waves to soothe you in a gentle embrace. 

“Atta girl!” he laughed as you felt the sticky taste coat the back of your throat, mouth turning dry as the Saraha.

 “Peter this tastes like shit.” you groaned, coughing and sputtering as he gently slapped your arm. “No swearing. Or else I’ll wash your mouth out with soap.” he teased, making you burst out in laughter as he rolled onto the bed, smooshing your lower half with his bodyweight- making you groan as his head lolled. 

You felt your skin warm to the touch with how close he was to you, your legs parted slightly so he could wedge his way between them and rest on you. 

“I gotta do my homework silly.” you smiled as he took another puff, his eyes turning a fair shade of red as he watched the smoke slither upwards.

 “I can be your study buddy if ya want.” 

“I’d get no work done if you were my study buddy. You distract me too much.” you teased, giggling as his hand reached over to tickle your thigh gently. “We’d make such a great team. We could be on the mathletes together bunny.” 

You rolled your eyes at his sly commentary, a hand slipping through the soft, messy tumbles of his hair as he sighed in happiness. Nails began to scratch his scalp soothingly, and his chest began to rumble- purring like a cat as you tended to him. 

Just as you wanted. 

The curtains rustled in the breeze that snaked through the cracked window goosebumps appearing on your bare skin as the papes blew. You looked out through the glass, scoping out the graves that surrounded your house. 

You could map out the entire cemetery as you had lived in this old, creaking house your entire life- could picture every little twisted path and old rusting benches that were scattered. It was peaceful here, the only real company consisted of the ghosts and Peter when he came over to visit. 

Your father was never really present, too busy with the works of the church than his own flesh and blood.

 It was an easy silence between the two of you, one you enjoyed immensely. It was different than the other silences you had dealt with in your lifetime- long and uncomfortable. With Peter, they were pleasant and easy, a place where you could be in your own thoughts and not feel bad about it. 

You were lost in them now, as you looked down at him. 

He’s never looked so beautiful. How did I get so lucky- to score him as my best friend? 

Continuing your head scratches, you let your head lull against the headboard, closing your eyes to tune out the world. He continued to smoke, hand resting on your thigh with each inhale. 

“You got somewhere I can put this angel?” he asked, hand waving as he gestured to the stump of the blunt, the weed diminishing. You hadn't realized how much time had passed, the hands on the clock hoping forward since the last time you had looked over at them. 

“Over there is fine.” you pointed to the little dish on the dresser you had left for him whenever he was over, degrading it whenever your father returned home. 

You didn't comment on how much Peter had smoked, just as you didn't comment on how much whisky your father drank whenever he got mad. 

You didn't care enough. 

He shuffled up, puffing the remainder towards you, the smoke cascading around your cheeks, tickling your eyelashes as the old bed creaked. 

“You’re such a doll, you know that?” You smiled. 

“Maybe. It's not like you tell me allll the time or anything.” you teased, poking fun at how sweet he was to you. No one was as ever kind to you as Peter was. It made your insides tingle, made your skin all sensitive to the touch. 

He smiled that cheeky grin that drove you wild, tapping the ash into the dish before he crushed it with his fingers, rings glittering in the soft candlelight. Your homework was long forgotten at this point, your attention solely focused on the beautiful angel of a man that stood before you at the foot of your bed. 

“Hi.” you waved to him, his hand raising to wave back from across the room. 

“Hi bunny.”

 “Cmere.” you insisted, and he smirked as he crawled onto the bed, the look in his eye hungry as he took you in. You looked at him now, really looked at him as his strong arms slid to each side of you, caging you in his hold. 

He was black and blue, the beautiful melancholy shades in between. The way he loved was different than anything you had experienced before. It was scary, a freefall into the depths of the icy water you were scared to tread. But it was numbing- the way he cared. 

A soft and sweet energy, that pricked you gently like pins and needles. His breath was warm as he refused to break eye contact and you wanted to shrink into the depths of the mattress as you felt yourself cave. 

“I bet you taste so good.” he confessed softly, his words making you shudder with delight. 

You knew where this was going. It was heading down the old beaten path the two of you had stumbled down so many times, when you were both drunk off sin in the walls of the church. 

You liked it. 

“Yeah?”

 “Yeah angel. Mmm god I think about tasting you all the time, your skin, your lips, your fingertips..” he trailed off, head dropping down to your chest, rubbing his nose against the skin of your collarbone. 

You felt your hips wriggle, wetness seeping into your panties. “What do you think they taste like?” you sighed as his teeth gently grazed you, biting into your flesh to mark it as his own. 

“Like cinnamon n sugar. So. Fuckin. Sweet.” he kissed your neck between each word as you gigged softly, his plump lips making you squirm. 

“You’re so addicting baby. The things I wanna do to you…” he smirked, licking a stipe where your silky nightgown dipped, revealing the slight curve of your breasts. 

Heels were dug into the ruffled sheets, the sound of your books falling to the hardwood below echoed as the strong breeze brushed you again. No amount of wind could chill the fire that was burning in your veins right now. 

“But we can’t do them. Cause we’re best friends.” you pouted, running your fingers along the back of his neck, curving them around to trace each vein that pulsed as he shivered. 

“Who says?” he whispered, like he was in a trance, and you felt your dress being pushed up, up, up to pool around your waist, your stomach exposed as his head dipped down towards it. 

“Best friends do everything together bunny. Don't you think about me like I think about you?” he asked mischievously and you nodded frantically.

 “Mmm sometimes.”

 “Cause I think about you alll the time. Think about how good you’d be for me when I’m strokin my dick.” he confessed, shuffling down to trail kisses across your stomach, your legs spreading wider as he found his home between them. 

“Y-yeah?” you whimpered, heart beating so fast you heard the blood racing in your ears, his voice sounding distant. It was hard to focus, but at the same time it was hard to focus on anything but him. 

The human body was a funny thing, sometimes. How yours could bend and contract to his will at the whisper of his voice, at the touch of his skin.

 “Mmm yeah. You make me wanna do such bad bad things. But you’re too sweet for that.” 

Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god. 

“Peter-” 

“Can I tase you? Please? Just a lil lick, I swear.” 

You moaned at his words alone. How did they sound so sweet, so innocent when there was so much filth behind them? You could never say no to him.

 Never. 

“Please.” you urged, the chill breeze making you tremble as he removed your thong, your knees bent slightly over his shoulders. It happened in a blur, time seeming to jump and snap back again as he had you under his thumb, hanging onto every word he said. 

The first lick sent you into overdrive, body shifting up gears as you crude out his name- hands tugging at his strands of hair as if they were reins. The faint scent of weed trickled through your nose, blemishing your skin and sweat as it trickled. 

You couldn't think. Couldn't move, couldn't speak. 

You and Peter had fooled around before but this…this was new territory. And it felt good. A lick turned into a taste as you heard him growl, tongue stroking through your sensitive folds again. 

“You- you said just a taste-” you panted out, hips thrusting against him as he chuckled.

 “I lied. You should've known.” he teased, eyes meeting yours again- stare so intense you had to look away. 

It was frightening- the eye contact. It was an endless void, a freefall you weren't sure if you'd have a hand to catch you. It was filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite place, a haziness that made you feel sluggish, like you had drank too much cheap booze, and smoked too many cigarettes. 

You were as breathless as the summer's night outside as he dived back in, malnourished and needy as he devoured you. His lips suctioned around your clit, sucking it sweetly as you wethered and moaned. 

“So so sweet…” he murmured. You felt yourself snap under him as his tongue pushed you over the edge, releasing onto his face as you cried out. His hands tightened their grip around the barricade of your thighs, chin gleaming with your juices as your body shuddered from the aftershocks. 

“That's a girl. My sweet sweet angel.” he sang out, shuffling up to kiss your lips gently, the taste of yourself staining your mouth. You savored his affections, wrapping your arms around his neck, desperate for something to cling to. 

You were scared to let him go, scared he would leave you vulnerable and open like all the others. He sensed your hesitation, rolling over to the side of you, nuzzling his head into your neck as you continued to hold him close. 

“Was I good?” you asked meekly, your biggest fear not being enough for him. 

He just smiled. 

“More than good. The best.” he whispered, kissing your skin. You exhaled a sigh of relief, tension seeping from your bones as you cradled him. 

You heard an owl coo out from the branches of the old oak tree that scratched your house, the wind howling against the old siding. You basked in the emptiness of the room, no one here but the two of you and the peeling posters that peered down at you from the walls.

 He wasn't leaving you. He wasn't embarrassed or ashamed and he was staying with you. He wanted to do this. 

It was hard to think about, hard to wrap your head around it as you had been so shameful of your desires towards him for so long. The old wooden cross that was hung above your bed seemed almost mocking as it reflected in your vanity mirror, a symbol of overcoming sin now with a meaning diminished. 

“You awake?” you asked Peter softly, ripping your eyes from the wood, knowing your father's words would haunt you the longer you were left to your own avail.

 There were so many responses you wanted to spew out to him. 

God loves you- but not enough to save you. 

But you didn’t, to save yourself the abuse of his wrath. 

“Mmm.” he mumbled sleepy, the weed putting him a place of serenity and calm as he synced his breathing with yours. “Did you want me to return the favor?” you mumbled, feeling bad he didn't get the same opportunity you did. 

He just shook his head. “Another time angel. Let me just… lie with you. I like when I just get to be with you like this.” he yawned, bed creaking as he slung his arm around your waist to pull you closer.

 “Okay. Whatever you want.” 

Silence. 

You sighed, flexing your feet, then pointing your toes. The red polish glimmered as the shadows of the wax dripping off the candles bounced off the walls, the smell of the incessant to “hide” the weed smelling of sandalwood. 

A truck rumbled in the distance, its tires rolling against the gravel. Peter sat up, eyes flickering to the headlights that beamed towards the house, making you feel anxious as you clung to the bedsheet. 

Was your father home early? He wasn't supposed to be home until tomorrow night, and you knew if he walked in on you and Peter- you’d never hear the end of it. 

“Is he home?” Peter shook his head as he moved towards the window, and you readjusted your nightgown. His hair was messy and rumpled as he stood, hands resting on the windowsill as he peered down.

 A grin was on his face as he turned back to face you, your heartbeat slowing its dangerous pace with an exhale. 

He wasn't home. Or else Peter wouldn't be smiling. 

“Well? Who the hell is at my house at-” Your eyes flickered back to the clock. “Eleven at night?” 

Peter just shrugged, a cheeky look on his face as he walked towards the bedroom door, grip on the brass handle tightening as he swung it wide open. 

You heard the front door open, two familiar voices echoing from down the hallway. 

Bucky and Steve. 

“Look who decided to pay us a visit!” Peter laughed, making you shake your head with a smile. 

Look who decided to visit indeed. 

[gleamingyu]

hits different.

part I of the midnights series. inspired by taylor swift’s midnights. part II

pairing: music-producer!seungcheol x lawyer!fem!reader [exes-to-lovers]

genre: romance. slight angst. drama.

warnings: she/her pronouns for reader (but no specific physical characteristics). mentions of a pretty rough breakup. slight angst. some light cursing. mentions of death (jokingly though). terrible knowledge of law stuff (thank my brief interest in htgawm). yearning. loads of miscommunication. slow burn. cheol & reader are both stubborn. mentions of drinking. alternating povs. lower caps intended [if there’s anything i missed, please let me know!]

word count: 4.7k

notes: this is the first part of a new series i thought of! this is also my first time writing (or more like, finishing writing) something, so please be kind! any comments, reblogs or likes are welcome. and thank you to whoever decides to give this a chance :)

summary: still recovering from a not-so-fresh breakup, seungcheol leans on his friends to get back on his feet. it turns out to be much easier said than done, especially when his record label recruits the help of a law firm to deal with a recent scandal, which just so happens to be the same firm his ex works at. just his luck.

if anyone could see the scene in front of mingyu, they’d be severely concerned, much like he is at this very moment.

seungcheol is quite literally buried under a pile of blankets on his bed, the only visible part of his body a tuft of his dark brown hair. the floor of his bedroom is covered in clothes and empty food containers, and the air feels so stale and hot, it’s taking everything in mingyu not to gag. there is no light coming into the room except from the lightbulb shining in the hallway where mingyu is standing, and… is that… phoebe bridgers he can hear playing from somewhere?

mingyu glances down at his feet where kkuma, seungcheol’s devoted dog – and only girl who’s ever truly loved him, according to him – is sitting staring right back at him, a look on her fluffy face that mingyu swears looks just as depressed as her dad.

“this is way worse than i thought,” mingyu sighs, finally stepping into the bedroom. “okay, enough of this!”

mingyu grabs the blankets on the bed and pulls them away, revealing a very aggravated seungcheol. “what the hell are you doing?!”

“i’m not sure yet, because this,” mingyu gestures around the room, “is a lot. but it starts with you getting your ass out of bed and into the shower. immediately. this place smells like there’s a corpse somewhere in here.”

“yeah, it’s me. i’m the corpse. or i wish i was, because that would mean i’ve finally died,” seungcheol groans, turning away from mingyu and effectively shoving his face into the bed.

mingyu sighs, turning around to start collecting some of the dirty clothes on the floor. he finds himself regretting not calling jeonghan or joshua to come with him, because seungcheol might have been more easily persuaded to stop moping with them around. the reality is, they all thought seungcheol was doing better; he was back on his grind at work, finishing several albums he had been producing for, he was making progress in his jiu-jitsu classes, and he even joined the rest of the guys on their trip to australia last month, with minimal persuasion from his friends.

looking at the shell of a man laying on the bed in front of him, mingyu realizes he should’ve asked. he should’ve asked his friend how he was really doing, what he was feeling, what he could actually do to help him move past this.

better late than never.

“listen,” mingyu starts, going to sit on the edge of seungcheol’s bed but reconsidering. who knows when he last changed these. “i’m sorry if we haven’t really been there for you. i know a thing or two about breakups and heartbreak, so i guess i should’ve figured you weren’t alright, not like you said you were. you don’t have to keep all you’re feeling locked up. you can talk to us.”

seungcheol’s head moves slightly to the side, peeking at mingyu from the corner of his eye. he sighs, and turns on his back. mingyu tries not to cringe at seungcheol’s sullen face, his eyes red and still wet, as if he was still crying when mingyu arrived at his apartment.

“don’t beat yourself up, gyu. believe it or not, i was actually doing better. but a few days ago, i … i was cleaning around the closet by the entrance and …” he pauses, and mingyu thinks he might burst into tears. seungcheol breathes in however, closes his eyes, and continues. “i found one of her old hats. you know, the yellow crochet bucket hat she always used to wear in the summer? i bought it for her birthday when we had just started dating and … i don’t know, i just broke down. it hit me again that we’re over. like really.”

you and seungcheol broke up … four, five months ago? seungcheol shakes his head, he feels like time hasn’t passed the same since. days pass him by where he just goes over and over your last conversation – which was more of a fight, really – and he always ends up regretting everything he said that day. regrets resenting you for always working late, for never asking him to accompany you to firm events… regrets accusing you of some unspeakable things.

looking back, he can’t believe how big of an idiot he was. no wonder you left and didn’t even bother to come back to get your things. you left everything behind, all your clothes that still smelled of the lavender detergent you used to buy, your makeup haphazardly thrown into one of the bathroom drawers, the cooking books you always bought “for inspiration” but never, ever actually opened… and the yellow bucket hat you got from seungcheol for the first birthday you spent together. seungcheol had left everything where it was, a tiny part of him hoping you two would work this out somehow. but weeks went by with no word from you, and when he had tried reaching you, he came to the grave conclusion that you had blocked him on all platforms, cut him off from your life like a dead limb. back then he thought he deserved it. he still does.

“i’m sorry, hyung. i really am,” mingyu shakes seungcheol from his reverie, reaching a hand to pet his shoulder. a beat passes between them. “have you tried… calling her again since?”

“no. i don’t know what good it would do,” seungcheol sighs. “even if she answered, i doubt all the apologies i could offer would fix anything. i said some pretty fucked up shit.”

“yeah, i know. if you remember, i was there the next day ripping you a new one,” mingyu teases, desperately trying to cheer up his friend somehow. he swears he can see seungcheol’s lips twitch a bit. “but who knows… now that you both had some time to yourselves, you might actually be able to overcome this calmly. and if… if it doesn’t work out in the end, at least you’ll both have some closure.”

closure. that’s a funny word, because seungcheol wants the furthest thing from closure. he wants you back in his bed and your arms around him, he wants your indie artists he’s never heard of playing around the apartment in the morning, he wants your laugh echoing in the halls. he wants you.

he knows that the only way this ending could even be a possibility would be if he actually took mingyu’s advice and called you up, but another part of him is terrified of the other possibility: the one where you pick up and tell him to go to hell and fuck himself and never call you again or show his face around you. so for now, seungcheol opts for a third option: emotional limbo, with a side of trying-to-move-on.

he gets up from the bed and asks mingyu if he could help him straighten out the place. mingyu, bless his sweet heart, of course says yes and gets to work after sending seungcheol to clean himself up. just as he’s about to close the bathroom door, he hears mingyu’s exasperated voice.

“oh, for the love of god, where is that god-awful music coming from?!”

seungcheol can’t remember the last time he laughed so heartily.

the bar you find yourself in is bustling with people, laughter and cheerful conversations filling the space. you’re only half listening to whatever topic your two best friends, yunjin and chaeyoung, are discussing – something about “that bitch” in yunjin’s department at work that’s been giving her a hard time – instead reveling in the pleasant buzz of the champagne you’re nursing.

it had been a while since you were able to enjoy a nice evening with your girls. the past few months had been filled with endless meetings, client-induced headaches and sleepless nights, but thankfully, today you had managed to finally strike a deal for one of the firm’s most important clients (to be read as filthy rich), which you had been working towards all these months. naturally, upon hearing the news, chaeyoung and yunjin had begged you to join them at a bar in the city, “to celebrate your newfound freedom.”

you splurged on a bottle of champagne for the three of you and decided that tonight, you were going to have fun. you were going to relax, enjoy some drink, and catch up with your friends who you hadn’t seen in weeks.

and you will not, under any circumstances, bring up seungcheol.

you like to believe that in the last two months you had gotten better at shutting out any thought of your ex-boyfriend. in the days – more like weeks, if you were to ask chaeyoung and yunjin – following the ugly breakup, you were quite the literal mess. finding yourself alone and with nowhere to go, considering you had left the apartment you shared with seungcheol with nothing but your work stuff (how on-brand for you), it wasn’t surprising that your mental and emotional health had taken a massive hit. thankfully, at the insistence of yunjin, you agreed to crash at her place while you put yourself back together and took time off from work – something you had never done before.

to the surprise of your friends, it only took you two weeks to go back to work and start looking for your own place. two weeks after that, you were moving into a new apartment and claimed that you were feeling much better since the breakup. or at least starting to. chaeyoung and yunjin didn’t want to argue with you on this – even thought they 100% believed the front you were putting up was a load of crap – but in the end, they didn’t even have to, because the first time you went out with them again since the breakup, you had your first meltdown.

but was it really your fault that the man sitting two seats down the bar from you had ordered whiskey neat, just like seungcheol always used to? and was it really your fault that he was wearing a maroon leather jacket similar to the one seungcheol always used to wear in the fall, which you absolutely adored?

could they really blame you for bursting into tears right then and there and wailing about how much of a jerk seungcheol was for never understanding your dedication to your work? how much of a hypocrite he was for expecting you to just dip from the office when he suddenly had some free time, when he had never done so for you?

that night, chaeyoung and yunjin quite literally dragged you back to chaeyoung’s place and held you while you cried yourself to sleep, and in the morning, when you had embarrassingly admitted that “no, you weren’t really doing fine,” they held you again and offered soft-spoken words of support, opting to keep the classic we told you so in their thoughts.

four months passed since that incident and now, you could confidently say that you were truly feeling better. you weren’t quite over seungcheol per se; there were nights when you still thought about the smell of vanilla that filled the room whenever he was fresh out of a shower, the way he always got so giggly when you brought home a tray of cherries… yeah, you still found yourself missing him terribly sometimes. but the more time passed, you realized that seungcheol hadn’t tried reaching you at all in the months since the breakup, and so you thought he might be moving on as well.

it is true you had blocked him on all social platforms for weeks after you stormed out of your place. but on a particularly bad day, when all you did was cry and cry and cry after him, the thought of calling him up and asking him to go back to how things were crossed your mind, and you unblocked his number. unfortunately, your pride had set itself in your way, convincing you that it was seungcheol that needed to make the first step, considering he was the one who quite literally cornered you into a fight. so you didn’t call and instead prayed to whatever forces exist in the universe, that seungcheol would try your number again.

he never did.

“soooo, cheers to the lady of the hour! finally free from the clutches of corporate law!” yunjin cheered, clinking her glass against yours and knocking you out of your reverie.

damn it, seungcheol, i said i would not think of you tonight!

“yes, cheers!” chaeyoung joined in. “how do you feel? are you going to get a big ass bonus for the amount of time you put into this asshole?”

chaeyoung was probably right, you probably did deserve a huge ass bonus for the deal you pulled for the client you were handling. when you were in law school, you had never imagined yourself working for sleazy, corporate pigs who behaved like none of their actions would bite them in the ass eventually, and expecting others – like yourself – to clean up after them. but, as your boss grimly explained to you the day you had complained about your client, everybody has to start somewhere. “and junior partners don’t get to choose cases, sweetheart.”

life at the firm wasn’t always terrible. you were lucky enough to be part of an amazing team, and the firm worked with plenty of influential and big personalities, so you almost never had to worry about your income. but sometimes, some of the people you were asked to represent brought you to the brink of just quitting your job altogether.

“i just feel relieved,” you say. “if i had to hear the incessant whining and nagging of that idiot for one more day, i might have gone insane!”

“well, thank god you’re a stellar lawyer and managed to get rid of him,” yunjin teases, taking a sip of her drink. “do you already have anything else lined up?”

“god, no! i have a few days off just to take care of paperwork, maybe help out some of my colleagues around the office… but nothing big for now, thankfully.”

“oh, that’s amazing! which reminds me, this means you can actually join us on that weekend spa trip we were talking about last week,” chaeyoung happily suggests, as she’s already pulling up the website of the spa retreat.

“i guess a spa day would be nice,” you say, looking over at chaeyoung’s phone. you feel your body already going lax at the thought of a hot stone massage.

“oh, that would be so nice!” yunjin pouts. “we haven’t gone on a girls trip in so long! i miss going away, just the three of us… do you guys remember that trip we took to croatia two years ago? that was the best one we ever did, i swear!”

while chaeyoung joins yunjin in reminiscing about all the trips the three of you took over the years, you feel your phone buzzing in the pocket of your dress paints. pulling it out, you see an email notification…

“oh, no…” your voice trails off, reading over the email you had just received.

“what? what’s the matter?” yunjin asks, her conversation with chaeyoung coming to a halt.

“my boss just emailed me. he wants me in the office tomorrow morning. some big case that just came in,” you explain, already feeling a headache coming in.

“but tomorrow’s saturday,” chaeyoung frowns.

“i know… i know.”

when monday rolls around, seungcheol really wished that he had died before mingyu had found him the week before.

the day started normal enough. he woke up at 5 a.m. and took kkuma for a walk in the park near his apartment building, just like every morning. by 8 a.m., he was already set up in his studio inside the PLEDIS building, ready to work on the tracks he was supposed to finish mixing by the end of the week. seungcheol liked the buzz of the label, people from all different departments running around trying to stay on their schedules; it motivated him to also do his part diligently, and reminded him that he was extremely lucky to be doing one of the things he loves most: music.

seungcheol should’ve guessed something was up today the moment the clock struck 11 and jihoon, the other in-house producer of PLEDIS, and one of his oldest friends, hadn’t come by his studio. he and jihoon had known each other since their college days, having met in an audio engineering class they apparently shared, and had been friends for 8 years now. during their last year of college, they were recruited by a record label that was just starting out (which became the PLEDIS of today), and despite all warnings from their families, they decided to take a leap of faith together and join the company. it all worked out for the better, it turned out, as PLEDIS only grew and soon became a household name in the music industry.

as the only producers that have stuck around PLEDIS since the beginning, they developed several… traditions, or rituals over the years, one of which was jihoon’s 11 a.m. coffee run, which they’d spend sharing ideas and notes over each other’s work, and, if jihoon was in a particularly good mood, engage in some office gossip (not that either of them would ever admit it). today, however, jihoon is a no-show and seungcheol can’t help but wonder what his friend is up to.

when he shoots jihoon a quick text, asking if he’s alright, his friend only replies with a “just busy,” and tells seungcheol not to wait up for him at lunch, as he’ll probably be stuck in the studio all day. this doesn’t surprise him that much, seeing as jihoon might be an even bigger workaholic than he is, but he still can’t shake the feeling that something must be up with his friend. he decides that instead of going out for lunch, he’s gonna pick up some takeout and join jihoon in his studio. he wouldn’t be able to rest easy knowing his friend will go a day without eating anything.

once lunch hours begin, seungcheol takes a quick walk two blocks down the street to the restaurant mingyu works in, who’s already waiting for him with the food seungcheol had requested for him and jihoon. on his way back to PLEDIS, he texts jihoon again, just to make sure he’s still in the studio, but there’s no answer, and now seungcheol is seriously starting to get worried. he jogs the rest of the way until he’s back inside the building, and takes the elevator to the 6th floor where jihoon’s studio is stationed.

walking up to the door that reads UNIVERSE FACTORY, he stops in his tracks when he hears more than one voice from the other side of the door. he easily recognizes jihoon’s voice, but the other voices – two other men and a woman – are harder to make out. except… except the woman’s voice is eerily familiar, and without a second thought, seungcheol grips the handle and swings the door open, four pairs of eyes whipping in his direction.

his eyes land on jihoon, who looks like he wishes he was anywhere else in that moment, and then scan the rest of room, recognizing mr. han, their CEO, and… you. it’s you.

seungcheol feels like he’s going to faint. mr. han does not look the least bit happy about seungcheol’s intrusion, and he really wishes the man would slap him just so he can know for sure if he’s dreaming. if you’re surprised to see seungcheol, your face shows no sign of it, and seungcheol can’t help but stare at you. you look so beautiful, so put together; your make-up is soft, almost unnoticeable, your hair pushed behind your ears, and you’re wearing a dark green suit… oh, how he loved you in green.

you were the picture of grace and professionalism and he was… not. he really wishes he hadn’t come to the studio in sweatpants right now.

“mr. choi, what a… surprise,” mr. han exclaims, standing up from his seat, you and the other man – who seungcheol has no idea who he is, but he knows he doesn’t like the way he’s standing so close to you – following suit. “i didn’t know mr. lee was expecting you,” mr. han continues, glancing towards jihoon, who turned red as a tomato.

“i wasn’t, actually,” jihoon squeaks, avoiding both seungcheol and mr. han’s gazes.

“i apologize, i was… i was just bringing jihoon some lunch. i didn’t know there was… a meeting happening,” seungcheol says, looking towards you, and he’s almost thrown back by the way you’re just… staring directly at him.

mr. han sighs, but remembering the situation, he quickly puts on a polite smile as he turns towards you and the other man. “mr. choi is one of our other in-house producers. mr. choi, this is mr. jeon and miss L/N. they’re helping us with some… legal matters.”

so that’s why you were here. and who the other guy was. but what legal matters? and why was jihoon involved? and why didn’t he tell seungcheol?!

before seungcheol can ask more questions, mr. han gestures towards the door he came through and says “now, if you don’t mind, you can come back in a few minutes, mr. choi. we’ll be done soon.”

soon. soon, his ass!

seungcheol had been pacing the hallway outside jihoon’s studio for the past 20 minutes (he checked, he wasn’t exaggerating!), trying very hard not to eavesdrop through the door, and thinking of every possible reason why jihoon would need legal help and why you would be here.

jihoon was definitely in some kind of trouble. for the CEO to be involved as well, it for sure must be something that could affect the whole label. seungcheol just can’t understand why jihoon wouldn’t tell him if he had any kind of problem. they were colleagues, but most importantly, they were friends. he would’ve dropped everything to come to his aid.

now, when it comes to you… seungcheol knows you’re a lawyer, obviously he does. he met you when you were halfway through law school, and he was there for every failed and aced exam, for your graduation (he was so proud of you that day, it was the first time you’d ever seen him cry), for every measly job you had before finally securing the one you currently held at one of the top firms in the city. he also knows you’re a damn good lawyer, seeing how hard you work and how dedicated you are. he supposes it’s not surprising you were chosen to represent jihoon in whatever mess he got himself in.

he feels bad now that he remembers how he held these things above your head during your last fight. how you were working late so often, how you never asked him to join you at office parties, despite how eager you always were to go out with your coworkers for drinks, how you always asked him to wait for you outside the office building, as if you didn’t want people to know you had a partner...

he knows that both of you were to blame for how things went down between you, but since he started the argument in the first place, he thinks he could’ve brought all this up in a better way, at a better time.

his thoughts are interrupted when the door to jihoon’s studio opens again, and he finds himself regretting waiting in the hallway because now he has to face you again and he’s not ready and he doesn’t know what to say and he still looks like a hobo and –

“mr. choi!”

he looks up to see who he imagines is your colleague – mr. jeon – step towards him, as you and mr. han step out after him, discussing something. you glance once towards seungcheol before turning back to the conversation, and seungcheol feels his heart clench.

“mr. jeon, i’m sorry once again for interrupting your meeting,” seungcheol says, extending his hand to shake mr. jeon’s.

“don’t worry, no harm done at all. i’m actually glad you stuck around, because i had something to ask you. seeing as you and mr. lee are close, would you be available for a short talk with us, sometime in the next days? we’ll have to build a strong case for mr. lee and, well, some insight from his colleagues would be very helpful,” mr. jeon explains, fixing the thin-rimmed glasses perched on his nose.

seungcheol is taken aback by the man’s soft tone. his sharp eyes and cold look on his face made him look pretty intimidating, but his voice is the complete opposite, putting seungcheol weirdly at ease.

“o-of course, anything for jihoon,” seungcheol quickly replies. “can i ask, though, what exactly does he need help with?”

“plagiarism.”

“PLAGIARISM?!”

“you’re being sued. for plagiarism.”

“yes.”

“and you just found out last friday.”

“yes.”

“last friday when we all went out for barbeque and you didn’t even think to mention it? not even once?!”

“will you stop pacing and sit down? you’re making me even more nervous than i already am,” jihoon sighs, dropping his head in his hands.

seungcheol sighs as well, muttering a sorry, and sits down on the couch opposite jihoon’s chair.

jihoon continues. “i didn’t mention anything because i didn’t want to piss on everyone’s good mood. it was joshua’s birthday… besides, i didn’t know all the details of the situation at that point. i thought it was another baseless accusation, you know? but they’re serious about it. they wanna take me to court.”

“what? that’s insane,” seungcheol says. “i feel weird even asking, but did you even plagiarize?”

“no! of course not! i don’t even know the people!” jihoon exclaims, flopping down on the couch next to seungcheol. he lets out a long groan. “this is just what i needed.”

seungcheol pats his friend’s back, thinking of some encouraging words. jihoon was the most talented and creative guy he knew. to think that someone would accuse him of using somebody else’s work was a concept seungcheol couldn’t even entertain.

“don’t worry. that jeon guy looks like he’s already got a game plan.”

“and Y/N,” jihoon says.

silence falls around the two of them, until jihoon stirs from the couch, sitting up to look at seungcheol.

“are we just not going to acknowledge her or what?”

“no! that’s not what i…” seungcheol sighs, hanging his head. “i just wasn’t expecting to see her. i don’t know how to feel.”

“that’s understandable. you guys haven’t seen each other in a while, right?”

seungcheol shakes his head. “did she… did she say anything to you?”

“oh, no. she was super professional, went straight to business. but…” jihoon trails off, debating whether he should say what he was thinking.

“but? but what?!” seungcheol grabs jihoon’s shoulders, shaking him a little.

“but i think she was just as rattled to see you as you were. her hand kept shaking while she was writing, after you left. i guess she was just better at hiding her surprise,” jihoon continues. “now let go of me, you animal!”

seungcheol sighs. could it be that you were just as much of a mess inside as he was? the hopeful part of him thinks you might have thought of him all these months, just as he thought of you. the other part of him thinks your hand might as well just have been shaking from anger.

“you know, this might be a good thing,” jihoon says, getting up and sitting back in front of his computer.

“what, you getting sued and her being around?”

“yeah. maybe this way you’ll finally grow some balls, put your pride aside, and actually fix things,” jihoon deadpans, and seungcheol knows the conversation is over.

yeah. easier said than done.

[penvisions]

zest {chapter 1}

Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Professor! Reader (formally known as Bartender! Reader)

Summary: Changes are sudden, lifestyles are altered, and important questions bubble up but through it all, you have Joel by your side.

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: canon typical language, c'mon reader and joel have potty mouths, age gap (joel is mid 40’s / reader is late 20’s -early 30’s, protective joel, reader is canonically midsize, pregnant reader, surprise pregnancy, reader goes through nicotine withdrawal, smoking, cigarettes, nicotine use, lots of feelings, lots of emotions, complicated family dynamic, reader has family issues, death of a loved one, mention of life-threatening cancer, reader has religious guilt, restaurant lingo, triggers associated with the food industry, reader canonically has an eating disorder, mentions of therapy, references to time apart from each other, adult content, smut, piv, unprotected piv be safe y'all!), talk of marriage, adult conversations, joel and reader are down bad for each other.

REMINDER: this is a sequel series, the previous series can be found here {garnish}

A/N: THEY'RE BACK, BABY! ♡♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || masterlist || ko-fi

It’s the perfect spring day: sun shining in a warm but not hot brightness, a gentle breeze rustling the trees as you zip past them, an iced coffee, and the singing figure of Ellie in the passenger seat all make the first half of the day melt away. The amber of your sunglasses allows for everything to be swathed in the honeyed hue and you smile to yourself as you recall a rather heated comment from Joel ‘that every goddamn show feels so creative ‘n artsy when they slap the same tones over Mexico’ and then a softer set of words as he had cuddled closer to you on the couch ‘it’s not really like that, I’ve been there, darlin’, trust me’.

“What’re you all gooey lookin’ for, Sabrosa?” Ellie pauses to catch her breath between songs from the newest pop punk album from a band you first enjoyed in your teenage years. Unable to resist the temptation of adding it to your already laden down basket at the bookstore last week when you and the young girl had ditched Joel to run errands. “Ew, gross, don’t think about my dad while I’m sitting right next to you.”

“Oh hush,” You stuck your tongue out at her. Getting a kick out of how casually she sounded. It hadn’t ever been awkward between you two, or her and Sarah despite the six or so years between your birthdays. But then again, Sarah had let you into the secret of the older guy she had started seeing in her graduate program the last time she had been in town visiting… “It’s nothing dirty, just one of his many rants about my choice in television.”

“Lemme guess….oh! The washed-out way they show Mexico, huh? Cause you were watching…oh fuck, what’s that show called…”

“Breaking Bad.” Was the supplied answer from your lips as you turned on the turn signal and began to slow down to turn into the parking lot for the restaurant. It wasn’t operating hours quite yet, too early yet for the dinner crowd Joel preferred to cater to. But Ellie had a shift, and you were dropping her off after classes. She wasn’t in either of the ones you teach, having completed the two semester course you had started off with. But you both had a class that ended around the same time, living so close to the university, she liked being able to walk but then catch a ride with you. Tradition, the word rang in your head. Routine, followed it and you smiled wider at the way your life had fleshed out.

“That’s the one!” She exclaimed as she unbuckled the seatbelt and leaned back in her chair. “Man, I really don’t have the energy for work today, but the old man said we have a full reservation list and then open seating at the bar.”

“Gonna be that way for a while, the article about him came out only two months ago. Everyone’s clamoring for a chance to try the ‘bursting flavors’ and ‘exciting combinations’ of the renowned Chef Joel Miller.”

“Yeah, yeah. He’s hot shit right now, at least the restaurant is.” Reaching for her coffee in an imitation of you, she sipped at the whip cream, caramel whatever it is she had gotten. Coffee wasn’t her favorite, so she always got the espresso taken out, a glorified milkshake Joel had teased her once. “Proud of him, though. The restaurant was in shambles when he bought it from the previous owners, some shitty Italian place that never cleaned anything.”

“He’s done good.” You quietly agree, sipping from your own overly complicated drink. That was another tradition of yours and hers, to make your way through the menu at the coffee shops on campus, always pausing to get the special of the month. Joel claimed he didn’t understand the need for so much stuff mixed in with coffee, but you caught him stealing sips of yours if he were to come across it unattended around the house or when you were out and about with him and treated yourself.

“There’s my girls.” Joel chimes as you input your code into the gate for the employee parking and round the side of the building. His voice filtering in through the open windows as you pull into a spot and cut the engine. He’s leaned against the back of the building, cigarette in hand. “Was wondering what took you so long.”

“Accident on the main road, had to detour.” You appease as he approaches to open the door for you and pressed a greeting kiss to your cheek as you roll up the windows. He does the same for Ellie as she sidles up beside him for a side hug before trotting off to the door and disappearing through it. He let’s you pluck the lit cigarette from his fingers as you shoulder your bag and close the door. His hand goes around your waist to walk alongside you toward the building.

“As long as you two are safe, that’s all that matters. Today’s special is spaghetti all nerano, wanna do some grading here and try a plate?” He takes the smoking roll back from your offered hand and takes the last drag before tossing it into the pale beside the door. Opening it and leading you through it with a hand hovering over your lower back.

“That sounds yummy, I’m starving.” You toss him a smile over your shoulder before greeting everyone with a wave.

It’s well into the third hour of service and you never got the chance to leave once the doors opened. The bar had been struggling, Millie having taken over as manager and Mary trying to appease the picky impatient customers who all want a taste of the raved over menu and a glimpse at the alluring Chef Miller.

Picking up a shaker and twisting a bottle of vodka in your grip, you glance at the ticket that just printed and adjust the amount you free pour into it. Mary had been looked so guilty as she approached you’re the table where you do your work on a regular basis, the question of if you were willing to help out getting drinks started for those waiting on tables barely out of her mouth before you were nodding and cleaning up your stuff. It was now safely tucked away in the office and you were moving at a fast pace behind the bar to keep up with everything. Millie stepped down to let you take the reigns, knowing she would only get in your way. Ellie could be seen picking up and dropping off glasses at the well as often as Millie as she acted as barback.

The restaurant was buzzing, excited conversation and pleasant atmosphere making you remember the tingling high of getting off from a busy shift with a wad of cash tucked into your pocket. Just as you place a strainer over the shaker and begin to pour the contents over six shot glasses the door to the kitchen swings open and Joel walks through. You’re too busy, so you shift the chilled shots to the mat over the well and place the corresponding tickets beside them. Moving onto the next drink, you rinse out the shaker with the star sink in place.

His eyes catch yours through the crowd of people when you look up as Ellie comes up to take the shots and then watching as she delivers them, the sound of the shaker loud in your ear as you hold it over your head. His steps don’t falter as he approaches the table, he was delivering the plate to, but you could see something flash over his face. He’s back behind the door as you move to lodge the shaker open.

The night goes by quickly, taking orders for those lucky enough to snag a spot at the bar but hadn’t been able to make a reservation. Shoving each cash tip into a pint glass for the girls and even taking a few business cards from people interested in hosting parties in the space. You’ll be sure to pass those along to Mary, even if some of them requested you as the bartender. You didn’t mind, missing the atmosphere and good moments you had experienced in the setting. Ellie is taking back the remaining dishes from the last few tables, Millie is out back smoking after helping to clean up the bar top when Joel ambles from the kitchen once again.

He's got his chef’s coat unbuttoned and loose around the shirt underneath, the glint of his belt buckle catching the fairy lights around the bar. His steel curls are slicked back, but you could see the frizz and fluffiness where they rested over the back of his neck. He had been saying he needed a haircut, but you had made a sound in the back of your throat that made him put it off.

His eyes are trained on you as you move the trash cans full of empty bottles to line up beside the drink pick up area. You’re about to return behind the bar with a wink thrown over your shoulder when he snakes his hands around your waist and pulls you to him. He smells amazing, the perfect mix of savory spices, smoke, and Joel.

“Playin’ restaurant, huh? Thought you went home and passed out.” He leans down to kiss your jawline.

“Nah, Mary asked for my help when Millie got swamped.” You breath out, hands coming up to rest on his chest and push should he get a little too enthusiastic in you still being here.

“Not your responsibility.” His eyes hold no real heat or command, you know it’s born from a place of worry, of not wanting you to stretch yourself too thin.

“It’s okay, baby. I don’t mind.” You cradle his cheek in one hand and play with the collar of his open coat with the other. His eyes glance down, the glitter from your lotion catching the light on your neck and chest.

“Hmm, you looked good. Dress looks good on you, shakin’ those drinks and-“

“Dad, holy crap, it was so busy tonight. Some dude tipped me like fifty percent because he was trying to impress his date!” Ellie plops down on a stool with her server’s book. She doesn’t even look up from where she begins to go over the receipts. “Wait until everyone leaves to start doing that or better yet, wait until you’re home to do that.”

“One day you’re gonna meet someone and it’s gonna be hard to keep your hands to yourself.” You only giggle at the typical parent response from Joel. Ellie wasn’t a touchy-feely person, but you were sure she would be with the right person, you’d seen her flirty interactions with girls while out with you and your friends, tagging along for the free drinks and to have safe company. She was pretty smooth if she didn’t get into her head too much, soft touches to shoulders and waists, though she steadfastly refused to dance. With anyone, no matter the setting.

“Gross,” She begins to fill out the printed shift report before organizing the receipts in order and then asks you for the stapler. Detangling yourself from the man, you do make it back behind the bar. That’s when she notices the pint glass. “Holy shit! You made all that?”

“Huh? Oh, no. The restaurant did. Here.” You hand the wad of bills over to Joel. With your own shift report and stapled receipts. He uses two nimble fingers to extract the shift report but leaves the cash in your hand. Frowning, you track the report as it’s tucked into his back pocket along with Ellie’s. Her own cash tips secure in her booklet.

“Also gonna see about getting some of the petty cash from the safe for the hours you worked.” He begins to take the full bags from the trash cans, tying the ends together tight.

“Joel.”

“You worked, you get paid.” He doesn’t look up as he reaches into the bottom for the rolls sitting inside and begins to place new ones over the lips of the plastic.

“I’m your girlfriend. Who used to work here. I was just helping out.”

“Nope, not gonna fly, darlin’. It’s yours.” He slides the empties cans back around the bar for you to put back in their designated places.

“If you don’t want it, I’ll take it.” Ellie reaches for it and you let her swipe it from your hand. Only for Joel to set her with a look. “Oooor not.” She says as she puts it down atop the clean bar top.

“Joel!”

“Can’t hear you, Sabrosa, gotta make sure the kitchen duties were done.”

“Seriously, I’ll take it if you don’t want it.” You quirk an eyebrow at the younger girl, but Millie bounces up and says everyone was going out for a bite at the taco truck parked a few blocks down. They have a spot in a lot that has picnic tables and offer late night service. Ellie takes off, ensuring you she’ll text either you or Joel when she’s back at the townhouse afterwards. She’d been staying the second bedroom there more and more, as you found yourself splitting your time pretty evenly between it and Joel’s. He would join you sometimes, but certain nights either you needed you own space or he did and that was okay.

Sighing, you lock the patron door behind her and turn the sign from open to closed.

As you’re double checking everything is shut down properly, you open the washer to let the last load of glasses air dry, the steam billowing out. Turning when you hear the swing of the kitchen door again, Joel has his chef’s coat tossed over his shoulder and his backpack over the other. His eyes zone in on the cash and then a smirk takes over his face. You turn your attention back to the washer and ensure it’s off before you round the bar top and makes sure it was swept underneath the stools. You’re about to ask him which car you were gonna take home when you spot a crumpled napkin you must’ve missed.

As you bend down to pick it up, you feel thick fingers sneak beneath the skirt of your dress. You don’t think anything of it until you feel Joel tuck a bill from the stack into the band of your panties. Knuckles grazing against your slit as he moves to the other hip and does the same. You shoot up, the napkin forgotten as you try to turn around.

“Nu-uh,” His palms come to rest on your lower back and shoulders, bending you over one of the stools as the heat of his body looms close. He whispers something about having to scrub the video cameras set up around the dining room before you hear the clink of his belt being undone and feel him move your panties to the side. You throb at the feel of the cooler air circulating around the room, a gasp leaving your lips as he gently runs the head of his cock over your folds, arousal from you both making it such a smooth motion.

As he reaches over your back for something, he fills you up, the stretch of his girth feeling like a reward for the hectic shift completed. But you know the night would’ve ended like this either way.

A moan rips from your chest as he grabs a hold of whatever he had been trying to get, hips flush with yours. He chuckles, pleased with himself before his hands sneak around to cup your breasts as they threaten to spill out from your dress at the prone position. His fingers tuck more bills into your underwear, beneath the straps over your shoulders, into the already full cups to peak out over the swell of your chest. He even tucks one into the mess of your hair thrown up into a clip at the back of your head before his hands secure around your waist and he begins to thrust.

That’s the last memory you have of both smoking and drinking, only a few days before you had anxiously waited for a piece of plastic to tell you your fate. It was now a month since finding out, Joel making sure to go with you to get confirming bloodwork and a full physical. The headaches from missing both finally having abated. Joel on the other hand, he was sneaking cigarettes, you could smell the lingering smoke on him when would come home and you were still up. It didn’t really bother you, knowing he indulged for far longer than you had in the bad habit. But you missed the social aspect of the act, of seeking out the designated spots around campus and chatting, of sitting out on the back patio with Tommy as he enjoyed one on the evenings he stopped by with his own little family for dinner.

But it was all worth it, you mused as you poured yourself a cup of steaming water into what was once your coffee mug. Tea was something you indulged in now, the cupboard filled with the different types you were trying to work your way through to see what would help with the onslaught of nausea and also appealed to your tastebuds. You preferred the fruity ones, just like you did with your cocktails, hence the nickname Ellie had graced you with that stuck.

Jingling keys and heavy footsteps signaled you to Joel’s return, the sun still shining on the calm afternoon. He had been gone when you showed up at his house, a cookout planned for the day. Tommy and Maria had been here an hour, the grill just about ready for the first of many things to be cooked and the pool was sparkling as it awaited the arrival of Sarah and Ellie. You had spent the morning cleaning it of debris and adding a few treatment drops. The whole family getting together. It was good, it was a good feeling being surrounded by them all. You and Maria hitting it off even more over the news of what was to come. Her own child now nearing two, she had given birth while you and Joel were split. But you had sent a care package and visited her in the hospital with her favorite takeout.

It was so domestic, so full a life…it made you wonder why you hadn’t been able to experience it as a child yourself.

“Missed ya, darlin’.” Joel steps up behind you and embraces you. Kissing your temple, you feel the frown mar his lips as you don’t respond. “Everythin’ alright?”

“Yeah,” You mumble, turning in his hold and wrapping your arms around his chest. He smells like cinnamon and the grill brick he used while closing up the restaurant after a brunch shift and you breathe him in as you press your face into his broad chest.

“Gotta shower, wanna join me?’

“The girls will be here soon.” You hold him tighter, missing your own family even if it had never been the same as his own. Dinner once a month with your own father, no visits offered or initiated, grandparents raising you since you were young. A mother who had passed early due to complications from cancer she hadn’t known she had until she was pregnant with you herself. “Wanna make sure everything is ready for them.”

He peppers kisses into your hair before pulling away and disappearing upstairs.

The afternoon continues, the smell of grilling meat and roasting vegetables lilting into the air alongside ruckus laughter and bad jokes. Everyone is comfortable around the patio and the in the pool, food served and consumed. Just a few bites left of everything, Joel ensuring you that he would heed your cravings and what you felt like you could stomach, not worried about leftovers lately.

“So when do we get to meet the rest of the Sabrosa clan?” Tommy askes around the lip of his beer bottle. He’s across from you at the table, Joel off by the grill as he messes with something he hadn’t let you sneak a peak at.

“Oh, um…you don’t?” Caught off guard, the bite of food falls from your plastic fork frozen halfway to your mouth.

“No siblings or nothin?”

“Um, well-“ Clearing your throat you take the bite and chew it contemplatively. Honesty or the thinly veiled truth? Your mind is working hard, something Maria must hear in her seat beside you at the patio table. She shoots Tommy a look you catch out of the corner of your eye, trying to keep calm so the child in dozing in her arms doesn’t stir. “I’ve got two half-siblings, but we don’t keep in contact much.”

“They gonna be at the wedding?”

“What wedding?” “Oh my god, dad! You proposed and didn’t tell us!” Ellie and Sarah holler from where they’re in the pool, one of them resting on a floating device and the other is practicing her laps to get more comfortable in the water. Joel turns from where he was ensuring the grill was off and brings over the s’mores dip he had just let melt to perfection. Your stomach rumbles at the sight of the gooey swirl of marshmallow and dark chocolate, of the rye biscuits he must’ve whipped up at work steaming beside it in a single use tin. Set up with a divider in the middle.

“Haven’t proposed to ‘er yet, quit it.” He sits it down atop a trivet, but no one makes a move to reach for it until he gives the go ahead. But he doesn’t until he’s got one of the dark biscuits covered in the dip and set in front of you. Then it was fair game as the girls begin to swim across the length of the pool, or well Sarah tries to glide her floaty across while Ellie does. Tommy readies one for Maria before making his own, quirking an eyebrow at you as he watches the pull of the dip.

“But your dad is gonna walk you down the aisle, right?” Tommy presses on, not catching onto the awkward way you were shifting in your seat or how you had placed your fork down to rest on the edge of your paper plate. The dessert untouched. But you don’t get to think of an answer before one is flying from your emotionless face.

“Can’t, he’s dead.”

Silence falls over the once happy and jovial backyard, the splash of Sarah slipping from her floating longue echoing.

“Tommy.” Joel’s voice is firm as he pins his brother with a mild glare. Maria is equally unpleased with her husband’s penchant for talking without thinking, not reading the room. He yelps as she kicks his shin underneath the table.

“It’s okay, wasn’t much of a father when he was alive anyway.” You reach for the mocktail you had made a pitcher of for you and the girls to enjoy. No one says anything as you pour yourself another and take a sip from it. Not liking the tension that had crept into the atmosphere, you gather up your nearly empty plate and stack it atop Maria’s to take inside, making more room for the messy dessert. Slinking away, you feel Maria reach out a hand to trail down your arm, comforting you before you’re gone back into the house.

“You dumbfuck.” Ellie mutters under her breath, earning a glare from Joel over his shoulder for her language. But he doesn’t disagree. You do, but it wasn’t his fault. How was Tommy supposed to know he had picked the one subject you had nothing good to say about?

“Shit, I- holy shit.” Tommy’s voice follows you before he yelps a second time as Joel brandishes the still warm tongs from serving biscuits.  

“Way to shove your foot in your mouth, we were havin’ a good time.”

“I didn’t know! I thought she was just quiet about her family not that she didn’t have any.”

“Tommy, you’re the father of my child and my husband but you are seriously so stupid sometimes.”

“Dad, she-she doesn’t have any family?” Sarah is tearing up, affected by the sudden realization of why you never brought anyone around except for a friend every once in a while. She could understand not having a mother, as her own was so distant, only showing up when she needed something or felt lonely in the life she created for herself. But to not have a dad? That was all she knew and she couldn’t fathom how her life would have been without him in it;.

“She’s got us, baby girl.” Joel goes to run a hand over her shoulder and press a kiss to the fluff of her kinky curls as she stands beside the pool set into the ground outside the patio. He wraps the towel she brought out around her and rubs it across her shoulders before lifting his hands. “We’re her family, pretty good deal, huh?”

“Dad….”

“She’ll be okay, I promise.”

The laid back vibe from the afternoon returns once everyone piles into the living room to watch the season finale of an admittedly awful reality tv show. But everyone was hooked and harmless bets were made on who would cause the most drama and how things would end. You’re a little subdued, but you make comments along with everyone else and laugh at the absurdity of what happens on the screen.

Stepping out of the bath you had decided to soak in, you startle when you see Joel sat on the small bench in the master bathroom across from the vanity as you pull back the shower curtain. He’s already changed into his sleep pants, his freckled and bronzed chest on display through the steam.

“Darlin’, why didn’t you tell me your dad was passed?”

“Because it doesn’t matter.” You stand in front of him, taking in the way he watches you through the mirror as you press a bead of toothpaste onto your toothbrush and wet it before popping it into your mouth. A heavy silence fills the room, tangling with the rose scented steam from the bubble bar you had used. The pink water swirling down the sink a near silent hum.

“It-uh, kinda does. Makes me feel…like a whole wedding would be…”

“You don’t have to ask me. We don’t have to get married if it’s going to be a problem.” Shoving down the worries and residual guilt of being raised in a certain religious culture at the thought of having a child out of wedlock, having a child as a single woman you catch the man’s gaze through the mirror. The burn of embarrassment simmers beneath your skin, shame for feeling such embarrassment sparkling behind it, creating a swirl of emotions you hadn’t wanted to feel this close to bed with an early class. You want to marry him, to experience that with him, to live life together as husband and wife, but it feels perfunctory when you didn’t even believe in the reasoning behind why you felt that way. He’s frowning, his brows knit close together, something off in the depths of his brown eyes.

“It’s not a problem…right?” You see the worry flickering through him, in the way his eyes shift and the way he clenches his fists in his lap. “I just…you know you’re a part of the Millers. Have been since the moment you caught my attention, but baby…I don’t want you to feel lonely if it’s my family and your friends.”

“Are you insinuating because I don’t have a family of my own, I’m somehow missing something?” Anger flared hot and sticky in you, washing out the embarrassment. The heat from your bath making it so much worse and you cross the room to pull the door open. Back at the vanity, you ignore his gaze and rinse out your mouth before moving on to clean and moisturize your face. He’s quiet behind you, knowing he phrased his sentiment wrong and this…this communication was new for you both. Still hard sometimes as you both realize how deep some things run and how different you could be.

“You know I’m not.” The gaze he has trained on you reminds you of the way he would watch you through the kitchen, tensions high as you both couldn’t seem to get your heads out of the dirt and just be honest with each other. A time that had passed, allowing for the present to bloom.

“Then a wedding wouldn’t be a problem. But it’s kind of moot, you haven’t proposed.” You don’t anticipate the slight edge to the words as they leave your lips, but they slice through the air. You feel shame overtake the waning anger, making your face hot underneath your massaging hands. The burn of tears threaten to ruin the routine you just completed and you hiccup as your hands flatten atop the vanity, head hanging between your shoulders. You do not like this, but you have no idea where it’s coming from. It really doesn’t bother you that he hasn’t asked. You know he has the intention to, the agreement of a visit to town hall and then a small party to celebrate. Nothing fancy, nothing crazy, simple.

“Hey,” He whispers as he comes up behind you, hands resting over the quick beating of your heart, his naked chest pressed to your back, the damp towel the only thing separating you. But you can feel his own heart between your shoulder blades, strong and sturdy. Grounding you in the way you had explained you preferred when overwhelmed. “I promise I wasn’t trying to upset you, just want you to be comfortable, to have everything you deserve.”

You let him help you to dry off the rest of your body, lotion lovingly applied to your body by his hands before you slip into a nightgown and slip between the sheets beside him. You kiss an apology to his lips, needing him to know that it was just initial panic and not the real way you thought or felt. He accepts it and offers one of his own, lips pressed to your chest, right over your heart before sleep takes ahold of you both.

“I said don’t.” You warned, no humor in your voice. You had tried and failed to put on every one of your pairs of pants, jeans, leggings, and none of them were comfortable. None of them zipped, buttoned, or stretched enough underneath the slight bump that had seemingly blossomed overnight. Joel was sprawled on the bed, working his way to getting up at the late hour. He had been at the restaurant late, later than usual as they had a party stay well after service hours. He had let the staff go on time, ensuring they would get the tip out but not wanting them to have to stay once all the cleaning and side work was done. One of the many things you adored about the man, his willingness to heed situations like that in favor of his staff even if he was gruff and to the point most of the day.

“Didn’t say nothin’, darlin’.” He rumbled from beneath the sheets, tan skin looking deliciously golden paired with the pale pink set you had insisted changing from the white that had previously been curled around the mattress. You had woken up with bad cramps last month, terrified something had happened as you pulled back the covers to find blood spotting the pristine fabric. A quick trip the emergency room as he shared in your panic, albeit in a more controlled way, assured you that spotting was normal during the early months of pregnancy.

“Dress...” You muttered to yourself, hand cradling around the small bump. Joel only hummed, stretching out to alleviate his sore body, thick legs appeared from beneath the fabric. Your eyes traced the long lines of his body through the mirror atop the dresser, drinking in the sight of him and your body began to thrum with arousal. When your eyes roved up the expanse of his broad chest dusted with dark hair to his face, he was smirking at you with an eyebrow arched in a silent question of how long you would ignore his deliberate departure from the bed.

You had all but jumped him when he got home last night, papers you were grading scattered all around you on the couch and coffee table, a Josh Gates show on the television for moral encouragement. He had teased you once about your affinity for the man but you had clapped back with his borderline obsession with Anthony Bourdain, to which he simply said ‘can’t help it darlin’, the man knew his shit’.

The dinner he had brought home had been tossed to the entry way table, as you knelt down to help remove him from his shoes and pants. Mouthing at the line of him through his boxer briefs before he could even get his keys hooked on the mirror over the table. He had been prepared to find you fast asleep, a different kind of tired taking hold of you more and more, almost demanding naps during the day when you got home from campus and right before dinner if you hadn’t worked. But you had sprung up from your spot and welcomed him home, the food forgotten in favor of getting your fill of the man that had been consuming your thoughts. The thought makes his cock fill, twitching underneath the sheets as he recalls your enthusiasm.

He sees the way your eyes dilate at the movement, the hush of his hand skimming down to grip himself.

Suddenly, you’re no longer debating over the clothing flowing from the draws inside the closet or those of the dresser. You peeled the pants you had been fruitlessly trying to zip up and nearly threw yourself at him. He greedily accepts your frantic kisses, starting from his shins and all the way up neck to finally connect with his own. He groans at the taste of coffee you had allowed yourself this morning, his own cup still steaming on the bedside table. His glasses beside it, his cellphone lighting up only to be ignored.

“Does mama need some attention?” He breathes into your open mouth, large palms caressing the exposed skin of your hips. His hands graze your middle, and you shy away from him, self-conscious of the extra jiggle, the stretchmarks from rapid weight fluctuation of your years now accommodating the swell of the beginning signs of the life you two had created together. “Hey, no, c’mere.”

You’re sure he sees the flicker of emotions across your face before you school it into a cool arch of your brow, the playful smirk of your lips. Falling back on bravado that wanes far too quickly these days as your hormones ping pong all over the place. You were just as apt to burst into silent tears as you were to jump him, confusing for you and devasting for him as he tries to read your moods as well as he can. He was hoping to dislodge the habit of you seeking refuge in the townhouse you had gifted Ellie, her own budding relationship prompting her to ask for her own space just as the new stage of your life became known to them. Equal parts of respect for the more tender and tense moments sure to happen and yearning for her own space again.

“Mama needs some new clothes, wanna spoil me?” Your voice is a confident hush, hands reaching forward to urge him to shift closer, both of you on your sides and facing each other.

“Do anythin’ for you, darlin’, you know that.” His teeth sunk into the curve of your neck, tugging you back to him. That seemed to get you to forget your insecurities as he felt you pull him closer, your smaller hands so soft on his chest as they caressed his skin.

“I think I wanna go to that fancy mall, maybe get some pretty underwear that won’t make me feel like a total loser.”

“I’ll take ya anywhere you want, maybe even that big shopping center in Dallas? It’ll be just like the trip we took to Arizona. Could get a hotel, see the sights and just relax. Hear they have a mac and cheese restaurant in the arts district.” He rolls to pin you down, and you move to allow him space between your legs instinctually. Body hovering over yours as he kisses down your neck, your chest, he lets his words sink in. The bralette you had put on doing nothing to hide the perk of your nipples. He laps at them through the thin fabric, delighting in the way it makes you arch up into him. You were so sensitive to his touch lately, your body on high alert as your hormones fluctuate erratically.

“That’s a lot, Joel. Shouldn’t we-“ Your hesitant words are cut off by a searing kiss, the press of his skin against yours making it hard to keep your train of thought.

“We should do what we want, darlin’. Wanna get everything sorted to go this weekend?”

Tears are suddenly pitter pattering over the sheets, darkening the fabric where they land after rolling down the sides of your face. He pushes his weight from where it pressed you to the bed, back on your sides and you let him, unable to stem the tears.

“Oh hey, hey it’s okay,” Joel crowds close, the thin fabric separating your bodies as you bury your face in his neck and curl your legs up, knees pressing into his stomach. Hiccups startle you both as you find it suddenly hard to breath through the onslaught of emotions spiking. “Hey now, darlin’, it’s alright.”

“I’m sorry,” You mumble into his skin, embarrassment flaring up hot in your cheeks and chest. You feel so silly, pulled in too many directions in so quick a succession. “I just…you’re so hot and I’m all bloated and my skin feels all tight and I really want some ice cream.”

Twenty minutes later, you’re happily spooning a sundae into your mouth with a red plastic spoon in the passenger seat of his truck. All the tears and frustration gone from you as you held tight to the treat in your hands with far too many flimsy napkins. He’s got a cigarette dangling from the hand he rests on the inside of the door, trying to keep as much smoke from wafting back into the cab as possible. Errands, today was an errand day and you smiled over at him. Pairs of sunglasses meeting, eyes hidden beneath them. He just leans over to press a kiss to your temple, not wanting to disrupt your enjoyment of the ice cream you literally cried over.

next chapter

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@pazizz

[ada7201]

bllk boys …

with a clutz s/o! < hcs >

gn! reader

part 1 ⭠ ★ part 2 with Isagi, Bachira, Nagi, Reo ⭢ part 3

note: if you have anything you want me to write, please suggest me some things! ( ˘ ³˘)

Isagi Yoichi

he tries really hard not to laugh

but he can’t help the little giggle he lets out

of course he helps you up, though

the way you always manage to get yourself into clumsy situations really confuses him

sometimes catches you the hood of your jacket (if you’re wearing one)

he tried to teach you ways to be slightly less clumsy, such as watching your step and other things but he ended up falling himself. (he never tried that again)

doesn’t let you do anything such as hold your bags, open a door, etc.

partly because it’s the “gentlemanly” thing to do, and also because he just doesn’t want you to trip over your feet and break something.

like Kaiser, he hates seeing people laugh at you or make fun of you when you slip up

you and Isagi were at a cafe, just eating and chatting with each other as the morning went by. it was a nice day, the sun was shining - the temperature wasn’t too hot, or too cold. it was just right. almost a perfect day for the two of you.

“really?” you’d ask with a smile on your face, your dominant hand reaching out to pick up your cup.

“mhm.” Isagi would nod with a matching smile, which soon faded when he realised what was going to happen -

CRASH!!

“oh.” Isagi sighed, chucking softly at your mistake. you sat there, eyes wide as an embarrassed blush covered your cheeks. really? again?

the people around you began to laugh and giggle, some giving dirty looks. Isagi watched as you sunk into your seat, ashamed at how you managed to break the cup.

“what are you all laughing at?” Isagi would announce, eyebrows furrowed angrily as he turned to the other people around you. “this isn’t a show for you to laugh at! mind your own business!” he’d add with a huff, before turning back to you. “i’m sorry, love.” he then said, staring lovingly into your eyes.

“you didn’t have to do that… it was my fault.” you mumbled shyly, avoiding eye contact with him - until you felt his hand gently touch your chin, turning you to look into his eyes.

“don’t ever say that again. it was a simple mistake, i love you and your clumsiness.” he’d smile reassuringly.

he did get a little upset about having to pay the cafe back for the broken cup, but got over it after a few kisses.

Meguru Bachira

he absolutely adores your clumsiness

it was probably one of the main reasons he fell for you.

you were walking (carefully) along the halls of an art gallery, making sure not to break anything as you looked at each art piece. that was, until you bumped into someone - causing the two of you to topple onto the floor.

“i-I’m sorry!” you would squeal, immediately hopping off of the mystery person as you apologised profusely afterwards. only for them to respond with - a giggle?

“you’re cute!” a sweet voice would say, sitting up and looking right into your eyes. Bachira would smile happily, watching the way your cheeks seemed to get warmer.

“oh- uh! thank you!” you responded nervously, looking back up at the handsome man in front of you.

“you wanna walk around with me?” he asked, followed by a childish giggle as he grabbed your hand and helped you up.

he most likely falls with you every time you fall

and a lot of the time, he’s the reason you fall!

makes it a habit to step on the back of your shoe.

has a photo album of you fallen over.

buys you cheesy shirts that say things like “i’m clumsy”

claps and has a whole celebration when you pass a record of how long you can go without having a little mishap. (not in a mean way, like he is genuinely excited for you. you know?)

finds you the cutest thing ever and loves to tease you about your clumsiness

Seishiro Nagi

at first, he thought you were a hassle.

you were a clumsy girl, even growing up - so it was no surprise when you ended up in the nurse’s office for tripping down the stairs. Nagi and Reo were there for other reasons, but they couldn’t help but notice the way the nurse sighed when you came in - was this a regular occurrence?

“y/n again?” one of the other nurses would whisper as you came closer - was your nose bleeding?

“what’s up with that girl?” Reo would chuckle to Nagi, who was staring intently at the way you walked.

“is she limping?” Nagi asked curiously.

“i mean, it looks like it…” Reo responded, watching the way you had a slight limp and - you had fallen over again. right in front of Nagi and Reo. you groaned, sitting up on the floor as you sighed. it didn’t seem to bother you that much, which intrigued the pair. Nagi thought it must’ve been a hassle for you to be so - so - clumsy?

“y/n, at this point i think you need a wheelchair.” a nurse would say, chuckling.

“not even that could help the poor girl. she’d probably end up falling out of it!” another would reply, a grin on her face.

“is she really gonna let that slide?” Nagi would whisper to Reo - who was simply watching as you struggled to get up. “what a hassle.” he added. “Reo, help her up.”

Reo did what Nagi had said, holding his hand in front of your face.

“y/n, right? here.” Reo said with a polite smile.

it took him a while to realise he actually wanted to help you.

like, he’d always get Reo to do it - until he started getting jealous. like, why was Reo holding your hand?

when the two of you started dating, it was a bit of a shock to Reo, but he was happy of course

was very surprised whenever he saw Nagi help you.

he literally hates it whenever you feel insecure about your clumsiness. like he’d overhear you just mumbling to yourself saying things like “i’m too much of a hassle to him -“ before he interrupts you with a big fat hug.

he doesn’t like to let you hear his gaming setup, because of that one time you almost tripped over the wires - but still allows you to be near him.

he doesnt want you to feel sad or lonely!

tries to comfort you, but he’s not very good at that

keeps a pack of bandages that Reo bought for Nagi to give to you in his bag or pocket, for if you ever hurt yourself

when you were all at school together Nagi absolutely refused to let you to the nurse’s office and got Reo to find some dirt on the nurses.

nobody hurts his clumsy baby’s feelings >:(

Reo Mikage

he finds your clumsiness super cute, and isn’t bothered by it at all

he was slightly surprised at first, but is always patient with you

he chuckles every now and then when you fall in a funny way or situation, but apologised after.

when you first came over to his house, he spent ages organising his room so it would be the neatest and almost impossible for you to trip or break something.

has you go places in his limo. he can’t risk you falling over in the streets.

he buys you plasters with cute designs on them that he knows you’ll like

sometimes forgets you’re a bit of a clutz so he turns to look at something - and you’re staring at him with a shattered phone in your hands and a nervous expression on your face.

he bought you a new phone after that - along with a screen protector.

“you’re so cute, y/n. it’s my pleasure” he’d smile, giving you a hug. “i’ll get you anything you want, and you don’t have to worry about breaking it! because i’ll just get you another.” he chuckled, kissing your cheek gently.

“thank you, Reo!” you would say, hugging the purple haired male back. “you’re so sweet!”

He’d simply chuckle, pulling back from the hug to pat your head.

gets super happy whenever you fix something yourself, like - you dropped his favourite plate or something and the next day you’ve got the same plate but glued together.

he thinks it’s the sweetest thing ever!

always ties your shoelaces.

“Reo, you don’t have to do this.” you would say, looking down at Reo who was on one knee and tying your laces.

“no, but i want to.” he’d respond with a smirk, giving your shoe a little tap before standing back up.

“now you can blame me if you trip over!” he’d add, kissing your forehead sweetly, intertwining his fingers with yours as he held your hand.

he gives you piggybacks if he can (Nagi likes to have that privilege most of the time…)

[twst-drabbles]

Leona, Rook and Vil 1

Summary: Rook’s cooing over your childhood photos attracted the attention of Leona and Vil. And then they find the photos that contain Crowley.

(Added a guestbook/comment section function to my neocities. If you want to leave a comment, go on ahead! Also sorry for the slowdown, had to put my old cat down the other day because of cancer in her leg. 19 years man. She had a good run.)

By this point, Rook isn’t even saying any words. He’s just cooing and awing over the pictures of your younger years, when baby fat was aplenty and coordination was just not your thing.

You tried to turn the page on your photo album just so you can finally put it away but Rook pinched the page and refused to let you leaf through it.

“Just a few more minutes, please,” Rook leaned in closer to your photos, adoring smile nearly splitting his face, “let me admire your tiny self just a little longer.”

“Fine, fine,” you sighed out, not really getting the appeal but oh well.

“You might want to keep a close eye on him,” Leona appeared in a small gale of sand, leaning on the couch arm closest to you, “he’ll try and make a copy of your photos. Might even show them off to everyone he meets while he’s at it.”

Leona didn’t flinch but his body did pulse with sand for a moment when Rook shot his gaze towards him. He simply thinned his eyes to a glare, tiny golden grains floating in the air behind Rook, ready and waiting to coat his shirt.

“Now now, I wouldn’t do something so intrusive,” Rook shook his head, as though the notion was laughable, “though, if you’re willing to lend such an offer, well, I wouldn’t mind in the least!”

“Nope,” you shot him down.

“Oh that hurts, that you don’t trust me so,” Rook hung his head, but you can tell he wasn’t hurt in the least.

“Rook, is that you harassing our dear Caretaker?” Vil practically descended on the back of your sofa, crossing one leg over the other as he sat between you both, smile almost poisonous in its amusement. “That won’t do. Look at this, you even got this lazy mound of sand to move all the way here.”

“Finally away from your perch, huh?” of course, Leona takes the jab with stride, “And here I thought you got your pigeon feet stuck on the branches. Seems I won’t have to cut them off after all.”

“Stop,” you said, turning the page just to get there focus on the album and not on each other, “I’m not in the mood for banter.”

“Apologies,” Vil dipped his head, the feathers on his neck calming down just a bit.

Leona grumbled out a ‘sorry’ of his own, but it was enough.

“Oh?” Rook tilted his head, tapping a finger against a familiar masked face, “Is that Crowley carrying you on his shoulders?”

You leaned in, then nodded. “Yeah. I made my first kite in that one. He got it stuck in a tree and had him help me get it down.”

“Seems more that you forced him,” Leona leaned a little into your shoulder.

“And look at him, unable to handle your weight,” Vil tapped a claw on the veins straining in Crowley’s neck and the sweat that made him shine, “was he always this out of shape?”

“Pretty sure he’s been out of shape for most of his life,” you sighed out, “however long that is.”

“Oh look at this photo,” Rook gestured to the corner of the page, “he’s carrying you in a backpack this time.”

“Yeah, Crowley actually got me new shoes but it was raining that day,” you pointed out the mud just coating his legs, “he didn’t want them getting dirty.”

“Did he really forget that he can just use magic to keep you elevated?” Vil raised an eyebrow.

“Yup.” You replied.

Leona gave a sigh of amusement “What did you expect out of that birdbrain? Sure, he has his feats but his idiocy is the only thing that rivals him.”

“He’s been with you for quite a long time, hasn’t he?” Rook had a far-off look to his face, as though wading through old memories.

“Yeah he has,” honestly he’s been there since you were in diapers but you don’t have photos of those. Took a few years of convincing for Crowley to finally say yes to being photographed.

“And will probably be there for many more years, knowing him,” Vil turned the page this time, “I’m shocked he hasn’t gotten you into an accident.”

“I’m more surprised you even survived to this day,” Leona tapped at your arm out of boredom, “He can barely take care of himself, let alone a waddling kid with no magic to them.”

“Right?” And you very much agree with him, “And he used to babysit me a lot. Felt more like I was watching over him than him to me.”

A bit of an exaggeration to be fair, but still. Before the photos, before Crowley was this… goofy force of nature, there was a time when Crowley was just like those crows in those old fairytales you were read: silent, lurking and ever watching events unfold.

A creepy man that didn’t interact with anyone. And yet, your family was the fools that decided the house next to his was the perfect one. Well, they weren’t wrong but the atmosphere wasn’t exactly one would call kid friendly.

Well, either way, that’s all in the past and your little kid self somehow wormed their way into his heart. You could chalk it up to loneliness making you stubborn in being friends with him, but either way, that was then and this is now.

So, in a way, yeah you did look after him. What a funny man he is. Maybe you should get Crowley something later. A new hat maybe?

[justash02]

Womanizer~ 01

Plot; Everyone who knew who Tom Kaulitz was knew that he was girl crazy, he's very well known for having girls around him all the time.

Pairing; Tom Haulitz x Fem!Reader

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"Wow that was amazing Tom." The girl flirty said next to the boy, he didn't even know who this girl was, but as long as she could please him it's enough for him.

Tom likes to think he doesn't care about love, if he could stick his dick in a girl real quick he was happy. He didn't care about dates, cuddles, or anything really.

It was just more convenient this way, he didn't have any responsibility that comes with relationships but still got the in his opinion the best thing out of it.

He stays quiet as he starts to get dressed again, "You're not gonna clean me up?" She asked confused and slightly hurt at his way of being.

"I have practice babe." He spoke, he looked over to the blond girl and smirked. "Gotta go now." She just nodded, looking down at her thighs that were covered in the fluids of sex.

*^*^*

Y/n's POV.

"Must be love on the brain~ that's got me feeling this way. It beats me black and blue but it fucks me so good and I can't get enough~ must be love on the, brain~"

The studio went silent for a second before clapping filled the other room, my eyes shot over to my band and manager.

"That might have been our best take yet! You did great Y/n/n!" Clair said running over to me. She quickly threw her arms around my neck hugging me.

I laughed hugging the girl back, "Couldn't be done without your beautiful song writing Clair." I said rubbing her back. The blue haired girl slightly pulled away but kept her arm around my shoulder keeping me in a side hug.

A hand appeared above me petting my head, "Great job." Adam said, his black curls hung in front of his eyes as he gave me a side smile. I nodded feeling my cheeks heat up.

"Where's Ben?" I asked looking at Clair, "He went to grab some food, we're ordering Y/F/F." I smiled big before nodding. "This albums gonna be amazing!"

*^*^*

And Clair was right, our album ANTI went viral all over Germany and across the world.

Suddenly our 50 fans became thousands, it was scary at first. We got hate at first, but that soon was overshadowed by the amount of love and support we got from fans.

Everywhere where we went people seemed to know who "XO"  it was, strange, At first, being famous I mean.

We couldn't go out and eat without being asked for pics, we couldn't shop anymore without being recorded by paparazzi.

It was exhausting but also amazing! We got to see the world differently.

*^*^*

"Please welcome, XO!" The interviewer announced. Clair put her hand on my back, her black painted nails gently scratching my back to calm me down. I took a deep breath before we started walking to the couch as a group.

We all sat down, I sat next to Ben and Adam. "It's so nice to have you guys here." She began. "It's very nice to be here thank you." Adam said.

Ria, the interviewer, smiled at Adam before grabbing the cards that were next to her on the small wooden table, I looked over at Clair, her short hair suited her so good and you could really tell she was getting more confident.

Ben on the other hand was kinda of trembling under the pressure, he has told us before that if he didn't have us that he would've quit already. His dirty blond hair was long and shined in the lights from the stage we were sitting on.

Adam was the best group leader you could have, I'm glad we all decided that he should pull us through it. Without him we wouldn't have been here now. He's confident as well but in a good way, he knows what to say to us to get us to give it our fullest and I'm so incredibly grateful for that.

"So," Ria's voice ran through the mic, "Many fans want to know about you guys band name, why XO?" She asked looking at us.

Adam looked over at Clair giving her the word, "X stands for the men in the group and O for the women, it shows that being different and having different looks on things shouldn't be a bad thing." She said smiling, her dimples coming through so firmly.

Ria smiled and nodded, she flipped over to the next card and read over it quickly, "Y/n, we understand that you're the voice of XO, is there someone who you look up to that has inspired you to sing?" She asked.

I sat up a bit and nodded, a smile forming on my face, "I think that should be Tokio Hotel's Bill Kaulitz." I said, "He's my latest inspiration."

"So there's maybe room for a collab?" She said smirking.

"Well, I definitely hope so."

[lipglossanon]

Winter’s Knight

vampire!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

inspired by Leon’s romantic look 😌 and the song Dracula’s Wedding by OutKast 💜 also the poetry mentioned is from Emily Dickinson; there’s also one line plucked from Dracula

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, biting/marking, fated pair, strangers to lovers, blood, blood kink, scent kink, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), OC friend of reader named Lara just in case that throws anyone off, unprotected sex, creampie

title from Winter’s Knight album by Nox Arcana

Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays!! 💜 😘

“It’s an opportunity of a lifetime,” you mimic in a high tone before rolling your eyes, “opportunity my ass.”

Your friend Lara convinced you to go on this holiday trip with her, all expenses paid, as she wanted the company. The boyfriend that was originally going to be accompanying her had been dumped the week prior. Cheaters never win had been Lara’s flippant reply when asked. 

It felt like it happened overnight and before you knew it, Lara had whisked you away to three different countries one of which being the current visit in question. You think you’re in Romania or maybe Estonia; you’re a little mixed up as your plans had changed mid train ride. 

Lara’s family had some connections in the area and so you were both staying in a rather posh old castle turned tourist destination. 

A very lovely place except now you were completely turned around when all you wanted was to get a bottle of water from the concierge and go back to bed. Your footsteps have slowed considerably as you take in the magnificent gothic architecture and the beautiful paintings ranging from landscapes to some strange brooding man encapsulated in shadows; you’re never fully able to make out what he looks like, too much shadow blanking his features. 

You find yourself at a dead end, ornate furniture filling the space with a singular painting taking up the entire wall. It literally takes your breath away. It must be the place you’re staying in, the front gate still looks the same from what you can tell; it’s this castle seated on a rocky cliff face overlooking the villa down below. Your hand reaches out to touch, but you hover over the gilded frame before dropping it back to your side. 

“Lovely, no?”

A smooth, low voice has you spinning around, a thrill of fear humming in your chest. 

A man stands to the side, a little further down the hall. He’s tall, slim waisted with broad shoulders that stick out to you, even being shrouded in the dim lighting like he is; his eyes shine like an animal’s before you blink and it’s gone. 

That small niggling of fear in your brain is getting louder as he moves closer, making no sound in his sharp dress shoes. 

He keeps his eyes locked on the painting as he stops next to you.

“Quite an ancient castle,” he murmurs, almost too low for you to hear. 

When he finally turns to face you, you almost gasp. He’s beautiful, almost ethereal with his snowy white hair and fair complexion; both make the blue of his eyes almost glacial. 

He smiles sardonically, “Lost?”

You squint your eyes at him, lips pursing in suspicion, “You could say that.”

He grins and his teeth glint sharply before he turns, holding his arm out for you. 

“I can guide you back to your room, miss?”

You smile sarcastically as you step up alongside him, completely ignoring the proffered arm, “Miss is just fine, sir.”

His eyes flick from the end of the hallway to you and he hums in amusement, “Well miss, shall I lead the way?”

“Oh, please do,” you simper and this earns a low chuckle from the handsome stranger, making your heartbeat flutter at the sound. 

He guides you back to the foyer and up the grand staircase, pointing out paintings or furniture that have some kind of significance to the castle. Pausing in front of an oil painting not far from your room, he falls into a sort of melancholy. 

“This was one of the ladies of the castle,” he finally pulls back, turning without looking back at you, “I’m sure you can find the rest of your way, miss.”

You startle, not realizing he was just going to dip out now. 

“Hey!”

He pauses, half turning so you can see the profile of his straight nose and sharp cheekbone.

“Thanks, mister?” You trail off, hand fluttering in the air as you gesture. 

He fully turns to smile at you, “Mister is just fine, thanks.”

You can’t stop the laugh that bubbles out of your chest, missing the way he lights up at the sound, eyes cataloging you far more closely than before. 

“Well, thanks Mister,” you shake your head, smile still stretched across your face, “maybe I’ll see you around then.”

“Maybe,” he murmurs, bowing to you at the waist, “goodnight, Miss.”

“Goodnight,” you tilt your head and wave your hand.

Laughing to yourself, you turn and head further down the hall and into your room.  He watches you until the door clicks shut and he turns back to leave. Pausing in front of the painting once more, he brushes a thumb across the placard on the bottom. 

“She feels like the one, hmm?” He murmurs to the half smiling woman, “now that she’s here, I don’t know if I can do it.”

A door snapping shut from further down the hall has him pulling away from the painting and slipping off into the night. 

You run into the strange gentleman again in the castle gardens situated just to the side of the towering edifice. Since Lara’s pacing in her room trying to figure out what went wrong with your travel plans, you decided to go for a walk instead of sitting around doing nothing.

You’re looking at one of the dead withered trees off to the side, debating if sitting on the bench here is safe from any falling branches when that low smoky tone speaks behind you. 

“There’s a certain slant of light, On winter afternoons, that oppresses, like the heft of cathedral tunes.”

You squash your urge to jump in place and spin around to face him. He’s no less devastatingly pretty in the weak winter sunlight. 

“Good afternoon to you, too,” you smile, enjoying the weirdness he exudes, “and what a conversation starter, might I add.”

He meets your smile with his own little grin, “Somber poetry for a somber day.”

You giggle, “Guess so.”

He gestures and you sit on the bench as he takes a seat next to you. 

“Here on vacation?” You kick at a loose rock with your booted foot.

“You could say I’m here for leisure,” he muses, blue eyes taking in every nuance of you. 

You tilt your head to look at him, “Oh I could, huh?”

Laughing, you straighten up, hands fiddling with the clasp on your jacket, “Well, I’m also here for leisure. Even though it’s kind of an accident.”

He raises an eyebrow and you continue, “It was a mix up and we ended up here. A vacation, just not in the right place.”

“How fortunate am I,” he smirks and you feel heat blaze in your chest, eyes dropping to look down at your jacket. 

You tug on the zipper, catching your finger in the teeth with a hiss. It snags a bit of skin as you jerk it free, blood beading on your fingertip.

His features are serious as he takes your hand in his, “You must see to it so it doesn’t become infected.”

You nod, touched at his concern, “I have some alcohol swabs and bandaids up in my room.”

He brings your hand closer and you get the wild idea he means to suck your finger into his mouth, but he only kisses the back of your hand as he pulls a handkerchief from his pocket, a light gray fabric that looks like it costs more than your entire wardrobe. You catch his initials, L.S.K., monogrammed in black on the edge. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, feeling flushed in the cool afternoon air as you clasp the handkerchief to your finger. 

“My pleasure. Shall I escort you back to your room, miss?”

Lips parting, you take in his pinched features as he stares at your hand before nodding again, “Yes, please.”

His eyes snap up and he smiles, relief spreading across his face, “Good, good.”

Once you’re both standing, he snags your elbow with his fingers and gently guides you along. Since he’s much closer than before and you’re not sniffling from the cold air, you catch a strong smell of cedar and cloves that nearly makes you swoon. 

“Are you okay?” He stops, grip firming up on your bicep to tug you closer making the smell even stronger. 

“‘m okay,” you murmur, eyes drooping as you slump against his chest, “just smell good.”

You feel him laugh and the low baritone makes your cunt throb so hard you whine into his jacket. 

“Maybe moving from the cold into the warmth has made you dizzy,” he says kindly, “come, let me help you to your room.”

Completely unsure as to what’s happening to you, you let him lead you back to your room. Your legs don’t seem to want to move the way you want to and the more you breathe in whatever cologne he’s wearing, the more slick drips from your pussy into the gusset of your panties to the point you’re soaked between your thighs. 

He murmurs low platitudes in your ear that just makes everything better worse, so by the time you make it back to your room and he eases you down into your bed, you’re asking him to stay. 

“No. You’ll thank me later,” he soothes, pulling off your winter boots and tucking you under the covers. 

“Please,” tears prick your waterline, emotions and hormones all over the place. 

His lips thin and he runs a hand through his white hair, strands ruffled when he clasps your hands together, “Just close your eyes. I’ll stay here.”

Dropping to the floor, he kneels alongside your bed, keeping your hands together. Struggling to keep your eyes open, you just know he won’t be there when you wake up and some part of you hates that idea. 

“Didn’t think it would affect you like this,” he murmurs as you drift off. 

With a small shift, he moves forward and pulls the pricked finger into his mouth. His hot tongue lashing against the digit is the last thing your mind holds onto before it slips away like sand in the tide. 

When you come to, it’s dark outside and Lara is shaking your shoulder. 

“Finally,” she huffs, brows pinched, “thought I was gonna have to take you to a doctor or something. You good?”

You squint at her but can’t remember anything but the stranger you met helping you back inside from the cold. The rest is a cloudy blank in your mind. 

“Yeah, just tired I guess,” you raise up, pushing the blankets away to swing your feet out of bed, “what’s up?” 

As you shift, you notice a small square cloth and a bolt of memory, of sitting on the bench with that man, makes your eyes widen. You pick up the handkerchief and tuck it into your pocket. 

She smiles weakly, “Kinda stuck here a few more days then we’ll just fly back home in time for Christmas.”

You frown, an uncomfortable sadness pinging in your chest, “Oh? That’s fine. I like it here, so it’s not like it’s a hardship.”

Lara laughs, “Maybe for you. I’m ready to be somewhere that has pizza delivery.”

You grin, “Fair enough,” you push her shoulder, “well, when do we plan on leaving?”

“Two days is what my travel agent says,” she looks down at her phone, “that was the nearest opening since it’s the busy season and plus a storm is coming in tonight.”

“Ahh,” you nod along, “plenty of time to sightsee then.”

She giggles at your teasing and stands up from the bed, “I just wanted to let you know. It’s kinda late but the kitchen’s still open if you wanna grab something. I’m honestly exhausted from being on the phone all day so I’m gonna crash.”

“Hang on!”

You throw on some shoes and meet her at the door, “I’ll walk you to your room and head down to grab some food. You sure you don’t want anything?”

“Nah,” she shakes her head, “I had something earlier since I thought you’d eaten. You sure you’re feeling okay, though?”

“Mmhmm,” you smile, pausing outside her door, “promise.”

She returns your smile, “Okay, goodnight then.”

“Night!”

The door snaps shut behind you as you walk away, heading to the staircase and down to the restaurant. You take your time, stopping to look at various paintings on the way down, even pausing in front of a suit of armor to peer into the empty helm. 

“Expecting a skeleton?”

You jump backwards, nearly tripping as you stumble into the firm chest behind you. 

Righting yourself, you feel hot all over in embarrassment as you meet your strange acquaintance for the second time today. 

“U-uh, hi,” you feel jittery with nerves, like a new crush, “thank you for today by the way. I don’t know how I got into my room, but I’m guessing you helped?”

His brows raise in surprise, but it’s quickly replaced by a warm smile that makes butterflies flutter in your chest, “Yes, you weren’t feeling well. Dizzy from the temperature change.”

You take a half step back, leaving more distance between you two. 

“Well, thank you,” you clear your throat, “uh, I was going down for a late dinner, do you want to join me?”

A sly grin crosses his features making you nervous, “I’d be delighted although I’ve already.. eaten this evening.”

“O-oh okay,” you stumble over your words as you turn to walk down the stairs, “anything you’d recommend?”

A sharp bark of laughter escapes him as he walks alongside you, “No, nothing I’d recommend. Although I’ve heard their special today is excellent.”

Surprised at his outburst, your brows furrow as you smile in confusion, “If you say so.”

You lapse into a comfortable silence as you both make the walk to the dining room. There’s just something about him that draws you in like a moth to a flame. At first you just thought it was his strange mannerisms, but in the short span of time that you’ve spent together you just feel connected on some hidden level that you’ve only just discovered. 

Dinner is a quiet affair; the strange man, who you still don’t know the name of, joins you for your meal. He makes small talk about the local area in which he’s well informed about, no surprise. After you’ve finished your meal, he offers to take you out for an after dinner stroll around the castle before bed. 

Not wanting to leave his company just yet, you readily agree and let him lead you around the place. It’s as he’s guiding you down a long L shaped hallway filled with more paintings that a chill runs down your spine and he freezes in place, half turning to shield you from the person who seems to materialize in front of you two. 

“Hello, Leon,” a silky voice purrs as a beautiful woman steps into view. 

She’s beautiful and ethereal in a way that’s almost terrifying, much like the mysterious gentleman half blocking your view; Leon she called him. 

“What a lovely surprise,” she steps closer, form appearing to ripple in the dappled moonlight streaming from the windows. 

“Ada, how can I be of service?” His polite tone’s cold and to the point, even as he pushes you further behind him. 

“Aww, don’t be like that,” she lilts, voice playful and coaxing, “I’ve already seen your pretty playmate. Is she a new friend?”

You blink and the dark haired woman is standing next to you, Leon twisting uncomfortably to turn around. 

She twirls a strand of your hair with a manicured nail, “I won’t bite. Unless she asks,” she winks at you and your eyes widen in surprise.

“She’s new, yes. A visitor,” Leon’s hand reaches out to grasp your hip, tugging you into his side, “so don’t play games.”

“Games?” She laughs, eyes bright, “are you still sore that I stole Claire away?” she pouts at him, “she wasn’t your one, so why are you still upset?”

You watch all of this with rapt attention and so much confusion. 

He scowls at her, eyes darkening as he straightens his stance, “It doesn’t matter if she was the right one or not, you stole her away from me.”

She laughs outright at that, side stepping away from you and closer to him, “Can’t steal someone if they want to be taken, right, Leon?”

He deflates a little, gaze flitting to you and back to her, “What do you want now?”

“To bother you,” she smiles over at you and you notice her incisors are longer than normal, “since I’m just passing through, thought I would say hello to an old friend.”

They stare at each other for a beat longer than what’s comfortable before she sighs melodramatically. 

“As much as I would love to stay, and believe me I want to so very badly,” she blows a kiss at Leon as she walks backwards to the far end of the gallery, “I do have unfinished business nearby that I must take care of. Ciao!”

It’s so quiet after she leaves that the ringing in your ears sounds abnormally loud. 

Leon clears his throat and gives you an apologetic smile, “I’m very sorry about all of that.”

You wave your hands, “No worries. It’s not really my business, y’know.”

He winces at that and you scrunch your nose, internally cringing at yourself. It’s a somber feeling as he quietly leads you back to your room. 

Pausing at the threshold, you reach out and snag the sleeve of his shirt. 

“Hey,” you murmur, dropping your gaze to the fabric you’ve pinched between your fingers, “you wanna meet up tomorrow?”

He frowns although you don’t see it and slowly tugs his arm loose, “I don’t know.”

Whatever feeling that has been building in your chest feels like a punctured balloon at his flippant tone. 

“Oh,” you drop his shirt like it burns, willing the tears away at least until you can shut the door, “I-I didn’t mean to— nevermind. Kinda silly of me. Hopefully I’ll see you before we leave.”

His fingers circle around your wrist tightly, holding you in place, “You’re leaving?”

You level him with a flat stare, “Of course. We’re only here for a couple more days. So if you’ll excuse—“

He presses forward, pushing you through the doorway to follow after, letting the door swing shut behind you both. 

“Let go of me,” you twist your arm but Leon doesn’t budge. 

A concentrated look arrests his features, blue eyes skimming down your body and back up to your face. 

“Leon,” you bite out sharply, making him draw up short, “that’s your name, right?”

“Yes,” his eyes look wild as he lets go of your wrist to grasp both of your hands with his own, “yes, my name is Leon. Leon Kennedy. I’m sorry, this isn’t quite how I wanted things to go.”

You finally pull your arm away, “I’d like it if you left. I’m really confused and you’re acting strange.”

He looks at you so sadly it makes your chest hurt, “Can I show you something? I’ll leave you alone after that if that's what you’d like.”

Pursing your lips, you squint at him until you finally nod, “Alright.”

His shoulders sag and he walks back over to the door. Holding it open, he waits until you cross the threshold before stepping back in front of you. You make the short walk to the painting down the hall from your door when Leon pauses. 

You look at the painting then to his serious face with raised brows.

“You’re showing me this again?” Confusion colors your tone, “am I missing something?”

“Have you read the name underneath?”

Shaking your head no, you step forward to read the small gold plate underneath. 

“Claire Kennedy née Redfield,” you murmur to yourself. 

Claire? That mysterious woman mentioned her name earlier. The one Leon said she stole away. The correlation is there but you feel like you’re missing a huge part of the puzzle to actually end up at the correct explanation. 

You turn to Leon, “So is this the Claire you were talking about?”

He nods, eyes heavy and sad as he flits his gaze between you and the painting, “Yes. It was a political marriage. We were friends before everything happened.”

“Ookay,” you frown again, “so she ran off with her girlfriend?”

He flinches at that, “My other wife.”

You feel floored, “Wait, what?!”

Rubbing your forehead, you’re getting a pain behind your left eye from trying to parse it all together. 

“So, your new wife ran off with your then current wife? Am I getting that right? How long ago was this, Leon?”

He gestures a little wildly at the plaque, “You didn’t see the year?”

Squinting, you lean forward and can make out circa 1849. 

“Fuck off,” you blurt out, leaning back and taking a half step away, “what kinda joke is this?”

“I wait my whole life to bite the right one,” he mutters to himself, hand raking through his parted hair, “that’s not to say I didn’t mess up a couple of times before.”

You take another step back, away from Leon, “What do you mean?”

His eyes snap over to you and you freeze in place. Everything about him seems to be amplified to ten now, he’s exuding an energy that makes the hair on your arms stand up. 

“You’re the one,” he steps up until he’s in your personal space, “Ada and Claire were accidents. I didn’t realize that there’s only one compatible partner for me.”  

“Compatible partner?” voice pitching high, “you sound crazy right now.”

His brows lower, “You feel it too, little miss. It’s why you passed out earlier. Blood calls to blood.”

You’re hit with a wall of need so crippling your legs give out making you come down hard on your knees. 

“I’ve been shielding you,” he murmurs, kneeling in front of you, hands reaching out to brush across your jaw and neck, “it’s a lot to take in, I know.”

Gasping in deep breaths, you’re overwhelmed with the scent of cedar and cloves from earlier. You don’t know how you forgot that smell but now it’s all you can concentrate on; your head goes fuzzy as arousal sweeps through your body. 

“What is this?” you slur, eyes hazy as you slump forward into Leon’s shoulder, “what did you do t’me?”

“Nothing,” he soothes, petting down your back, “it’s just the effect of the compatibility. I can’t explain it; I just instinctively know it’s right.”

Reaching out, your hands weakly clasp at his shirt, “I don’t understand.”

“It’s okay,” he coos, “let me take you to my room.”

Not able to argue against him, he easily lifts you into a bridal carry. He uses one hand to block your eyes and you feel cold wind before he removes his palm and you see you’re in a room three times the size of your own. Leon eases you down onto an absurdly luxurious bed, sheer drapes lost to the shadows of the ceiling. 

Once he steps away, leaving a sizable gap between you both, the dizziness subsides and your thoughts aren’t as fleeting. 

“What the fuck?” you whisper, hands shakily brushing wisps of your hair back from your face, “what the ever loving fuck? Am I losing my mind?”

Your eyes quickly dart around, taking in the opulate furnishings and huge windows overlooking the cliff side, showcasing you now must be on the upper level of the castle. Your gaze lands on a time worn painting off to the side of Leon and his first wife, the dark haired beauty he called Ada. Next to it is another portrait of his second wife, Claire, yet another beautiful woman with red hair. 

Leon’s hands ball into fists at his sides as he takes in a deep breath, “It’s not as bad as it seems.”

“Leon, what’s going on?” Your voice breaks, mind struggling to keep up with what’s happening to you. 

“My first wife,” he points to the older portrait, “we were human at the time.”

“At the time?” You squeak out.

He hums, eyes flashing in the low light, “Yes. Then the change occurred to me after getting lost on a hunting trip. When I returned, I offered it to her but she refused,” he tilts his head up and shields his eyes with a hand, “and I made her like me anyways. She was my wife. Our vows were to be together in sickness and in health. She didn’t see it that way.”

You watch as he shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, stepping to the portrait with his fingers outstretched but never outright touching the canvas. 

“She said it was til death do us part but I thought she was my one,” he sighs sorrowfully, “so I changed her and she loathed me. She eventually left one night never to come back. I didn’t chase after her, resigned to her resentment. I didn’t hear from her for hundreds of years. Then Claire came along.”

Your eyes jump from Ada to the smiling redhead in the other portrait. 

“Her brother needed her to marry someone with an upstanding background; someone with title and lands to trade,” he smiles bitterly at you, “I posed as my own great great nephew and set up the marriage. We became friends through our letters and when we wed it was wonderful. I kept what I was from her for as long as possible.”

He steps over to you and you flinch making his eyes droop in pain. 

“She figured it out quickly, such a smart woman,” he smiles crookedly, “I loved her dearly, but she wasn’t enough either. I changed her thinking that this is it, but it wasn’t. She wasn’t the one either. Ada came soon after and easily whisked her away from me.”

He sighs forlornly. Your lips part but you change your mind and refrain from saying anything. 

“Claire’s brother even convinced Ada to change him so he could defend her honor against me,” he blows out a short breath, “letting you know in case he shows up to be the gallant hero.”

“Leon,” you murmur, at a complete loss for words. 

“We all understand each other now and they’re happy where they are,” he laughs derisively at himself, “and I’ve lived alone here, running this place through a shell company hoping against hope for just one more chance.”

“This is insane,” you finally say to him, “you’re telling me you’re a vampire and I’m beholden to you? And on top of that you practically have a coven. This is impossible.”

“But you feel the pull, too,” his voice dips into that low smoky tenor, “you’re the one. You are to be my new bride.”

Your laugh startles you both, but you can’t stop the manic giggles once they start. Once the mania seems to pass and with it your hysterical laughter, you finally get yourself under control and clear your throat. 

“Prove it,” you tell him seriously, heart beating so fast your sure he can hear it, “let me see this vampire side of yours and if I believe you, if you convince me, then I’ll be your bride.”

His smile lights up his whole face making your breath catch.

“That’s easily done.”

He stands directly in front of you and that strange energy fills the room; you watch in complete astonishment as he looks like he dissolves until there’s only mist floating in the air. It drifts languidly past you and you feel the bed dip with body weight. 

His hot breath caresses your ear, “Is that enough, little bride?”

A full body shudder hits you as he kisses across your neck, the sharp prick of fangs dragging across your skin. 

“Let me bite you,” he whispers sweetly, “let me show you how deep our bond truly is.”

Feeling completely off centered, you breathe out one word without thinking, going with only what feels right.

“Yes.”

His teeth sink into the side of your neck and you cum, slick filling your panties until you’re sure it’s dripping down your thighs. It feels like a typhoon of emotions rains down through your body, pleasure so strong your eyes sting; then, it’s swept through to be quickly replaced by a feeling of home so deeply connected to the man behind you you could openly weep. It’s like a puzzle piece slotting into place somewhere in your chest. 

Moaning, your hands scratch at the bedding and he hums against your skin. Pulling away with a low groan, he runs his tongue over the puncture marks. 

“So good,” he mouths against your jaw, “let me mark you again.”

Whimpering, you lean back against him as he sinks his teeth into a new spot, softly sucking blood from the wound. His hands slip around your waist to pull you into the V of his thighs. You choke out a whine as your cunt throbs, on the verge of another orgasm and he hasn’t even touched you intimately aside from his teeth in your neck. 

“Leon,” you keen, one hand reaching over your head to tangle in his soft, snowy hair.

Chillbumps race down your body when he finally pulls away to place a soft kiss on the bite. He sucks at the tender skin making you mewl longingly until he pulls away with a sigh. 

“Let me taste that sweet little pussy,” he purrs in your ear, “I have been dreaming of biting your thighs and kissing your cunt til you can’t take anymore.”

Tugging his hair harder, you whimper and nod your head, “Please, Leon.”

The scent of cedar comes across stronger as he kisses your neck one last time before shifting you both until you’re laying back on his bed. He strokes his hands all down your body, eyes drinking in your expressions.

“You’ve been driving me crazy this entire time,” he slowly undresses you, scraping his sharp incisors against the skin he reveals, “smell so good, so sweet. Makes my mouth water.”

You whimper while watching as he unbuttons your jeans and works them and your panties off of your legs. He groans to see the slick mess between your thighs, cunt glistening with your arousal. 

“Look at you,” he breathes out, blown out pupils flicking up to your own dazed eyes. 

Wasting no time, he lays down between your spread legs and kisses the top of your pussy, ignoring where you most want his mouth. He drags his lips down and then buries his face in your cunt, spreading your lips apart with his tongue as he licks all over your pussy. Grunting, he shoves his tongue into your hole to spear you open on the thick muscle. 

“Leon,” you whisper down to him, feeling so turned on you can’t think straight. 

He groans and pulls back, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

With a sigh, you relax against the sheets only to jolt as your pussy throbs when he bites you at the crease where your cunt meets your thigh. 

Crying out softly, your head thrashes against his bed as he repeats it on the other side. 

“I know, but bear with me,” he murmurs, blood coating his mouth as he lovingly kisses the puncture wounds, “doing so well.”

You splay back out against his sheets as he buries his face between your thighs again. He keeps your legs spread as he slowly kisses and sucks at your cunt, like he’s never tasted anything better in his life. Everything’s sensitive and on the verge of too much, but you wouldn’t dream of asking him to stop. That slow syrupy pleasure that’s made your thoughts honey thick is more than welcome. 

He laps along the seam of your pussy lips until he glides the tip of his tongue up to the hood of your clit. Leon circles the pudgy bud all slow and soft, tongue dipping down to flutter inside your soaked hole. Groaning at the slick flooding his mouth, he laps at your cunt with long broad strokes of his tongue. He pulls back to suck on your pussy lips before kissing across to your thigh and sinking those sharp fangs into your supple skin. 

Your back arches, a low whine spilling from your kiss bitten lips. He kisses and sucks the bitemark until it's ugly and irritated, then drags his lips back to your cunt, kissing your mound softly.  He makes out with your pussy with hot and bloody open mouthed kisses, spit drenching your swollen clit as you moan loudly. 

Your orgasm builds higher and higher until it’s a tight band ready to snap in your lower belly. Leon senses you getting closer from your body spasming and your voice gaining in volume as he greedily eats your cunt, hungry eyes watching you from between your legs. 

With a low keening groan rumbling from deep in his chest, he sinks his fangs into your fat pussy lips as he fucks his tongue into your clenching hole. That pinprick of pain flooded by intense pleasure is enough to push you completely over the edge. Wailing, your spine bows as your climax floods through your body, cunt pulsing and gushing slick as your toes curl in the sheets. 

Almost growling into your pussy, Leon flutters his tongue into your hole, lapping up all the slick dripping from your cunt, tongue loudly squelching in and out of your clenching walls. 

He finally pulls away with a low moan of pleasure, lower jaw coated with slick and blood. 

“So good for me, little bride,” he slinks up your body, joints moving unnaturally but you're hardly able to think past the pleasure buzzing in your brain, “going to make you mine, keep you forever.”

 Humming, you tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him down into the messiest kiss of the night. He almost snarls into your kisses as he gets rougher, tongue and teeth dominating your mouth, a bruising pressure on your lips. 

“Promise me you’ll stay,” he demands, eyes flashing at you as he presses you down harder into the mattress, “stay with me, be mine.”

You softly brush back his hair, voice soothing as you reply, “I promise, Leon. I’m all yours. I’ll be your new bride.”

He nuzzles his face into your neck before sinking those deliciously sharp teeth into you again. Weakly moaning, your eyes roll back as your clit throbs in time with your heartbeat. You feel him shudder when he pulls away to kiss the sluggishly bleeding marks.

“My bride,” he sighs, dragging his pouty lips across your jaw, nose tracing your skin, “you promise to give me all that you are.. all that you will be.”

“Promise,” you gasp out as his hand sneaks down to tease across your clit, cunt soaking the sheets further with fresh slick, “promise, Leon.”

He kisses you then, the hot copper tang of blood flavoring his sweet sentiment. You’re swept under another tide of arousal from his messy lips and tongue while his fingers play with your pudgy clit. 

He shifts until he’s next to you, blood smeared mouth parted as his eyes trail down your body. Gripping your hip, he helps turn your body to face him, leaving you both lying on your sides. Your hands reach out to trail down his chest just now noticing that he’s still dressed.

“No fair,” you tease, tugging on the silky  material.

He laughs softly, bringing your hand up to kiss your inner wrist before scraping his fangs across the sensitive skin making you shiver. Letting go of your hand, he quickly undresses, dropping his clothes off the side of the bed in a heap. You bite your lip, taking in the long lean lines of his body, eyes widening to see his thick cock filled out and resting against his thigh. 

“Leon,” you breathe out, wide eyes tracking back up to his pale blue ones. 

This time your hands lightly scratch along his pecs to his twitching abdominal muscles, nails barely scratch the soft thatch of hair above his hard cock. 

“You can touch me, liebling,” his lips quirk up into a half smile, “I only bite a little.”

A giggle slips out and your hand grasps the base of his dick and squeezes earning a low groan from the handsome man next to you. 

“Stroke me, tease me, do whatever you wish,” he murmurs, hands coming up to cup your breasts, “I’ll enjoy it all.”

You whimper as his long fingers dig into the soft flesh of your breasts, thumbs rubbing circles across your stiff nipples.

While one of your hands teases the head of his dick, you slide the other one to cup his balls making his cock kick, blurting precum onto your fingers.

“It’s so sticky,” you murmur unthinkingly, smearing the precum around his tip making it slippery for your fingers to rub across. 

He groans loudly, bucking his hips and sliding his cock through your fingers in a clumsy effort to fuck your loose fist. 

“And these are so sensitive,” his low tone razes goosebumps as he tweaks and pinches your nipples until you’re rubbing your thighs together. 

“Leon,” you moan, arching your back to press your breasts more firmly into his hands. 

“I haven’t had a chance to taste these,” he purrs, ducking his head to nip your chest.

“Please,” you tighten your hand around his cock and pump your fist, “bite me.”

He presses closer against you, hands pushing your breasts up as he dips his head down. Kissing the stiff peak, he licks around the puckered skin close to your nipple. 

“Smell so good,” he mumbles, kissing your nipple softly before sucking it into his mouth. 

He rolls his tongue around the hard bud before pulling away with a soft pop. He drags his lips down to suck on the skin underneath your breast before opening his mouth and biting deep into the tender flesh. 

“Oh god,” you cry out, body writhing so much Leon has to use one hand to grip your ribcage tightly to keep you still. 

You're too out of it to jerk him off, hands instead moving to grab onto his hips. He pulls away with a gasp only to sink his bloody teeth into the soft fat of your other breast. Your cunt is a drippy mess by the time he pulls away the second time, tongue sucking the blood off his fangs as his eyes seem to shine with unnatural light. 

“The finest of wines,” he smiles at you, licking his lips slowly. 

Your cunt throbs and aches, walls fluttering around nothing—feeling empty and needy. 

“Leon,” you grab his hand and guide it to your soaked cunt, “please, I want you.”

“Oh my beautiful bride, so wet and ready for me,” he hisses, easily sinking two fingers knuckle deep into your clenching pussy.

Your hands move from his hips to dig into his shoulders making him grind his fingers deeper into your aching cunt. He pulls them halfway out before thrusting them back in, the flat of his palm smacking against your swollen clit. 

Nails digging deeper into his skin, you rock your hips in time with his hand, whining and moaning as he fingerfucks your pussy rough and deep. 

“Such a sweet little wife I have,” he kisses your ear as your eyes struggle to stay open, cunt clamping down on his fingers from the endearment. 

He drags his cock against your thigh, smearing precum against your skin to mix with the slick dripping from your pussy. 

“I want to be inside you,” he whispers hotly against your lips, “I want to be buried deep in my bride’s pussy as I drink from her pleasured body.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, throat dry from all your gasping and panting, “I need you inside me, Leon. Please.”

He pulls his fingers out slowly making you  whimper once your cunt’s empty again. Leon shushes you gently, gripping his cock in one hand while his other grabs your thigh and wraps it over his waist. Rubbing the fat head of dick up and down your slit, he teases his cock across your hole before using the tip to part your pussy lips and rub across your sensitive clit.

You rock your hips forward and he kisses your neck, tongue lapping at the marks he left. Moving his cock back down, he slowly presses his dick into your leaking hole. 

“So tight,” he murmurs, praise lacing his tone and making you hump down onto his cock.

He lets you work your wet cunt on his dick until he’s buried fully inside your pulsing heat. 

“Needed this,” he groans, rutting his cock slowly in and out of your pussy, “needed to be inside of you, a part of you.”

Pleasure washes over you like the tide meeting the shore. Leon’s cock grinds against the spongy spot at the front of your cunt making you ooze slick until it’s dripping down his balls, leaving a creamy ring around the base of his dick. 

With a small shift, he rolls you completely over onto your back, body weight pressing you down into the mattress as he fucks in deeper inside your fluttering pussy. His pelvis grinds down onto your pudgy clit sending little bolts of desire throughout your whole body. 

“Leon, so good,” you whimper, fingers grasping at his biceps, hips rolling forward to keep his dick inside you, leaking tip pressed against your cervix. 

“Taking me so well, a perfect fit,” he kisses you gently, sucking your tongue into his mouth, teeth nicking the muscle causing blood to flavor your kisses. 

Moaning hungrily, Leon gets rougher, mouth pressing against yours so tightly your teeth ache. A high keening cry slips out between the bruising press of Leon’s lips against yours. Pulling away, he growls and drags his mouth to your neck, lathing his tongue against the multitude of wounds he left earlier. 

“So tight around me, are you getting close, little love?” He chuckles and teases your neck with his teeth making you keen and squirm against him. 

“Yes, please, ‘m close,” you moan, legs coming up to wrap tightly around his waist, “w’nna cum, wanna feel you inside me.”

Leon hums and swivels his hips, rutting his cock into your cunt without pulling out until you’re clawing at his back with short choked off whines. He grinds against your clit until your eyes roll back into your head. 

His teeth sink into your neck one last time, pushing you over the edge for the second time as your orgasm crashes through your body. Crying out, your arms and legs lock around Leon’s body, head thrown back as your cunt clenches around his dick. 

“So lovely,” he pulls back, licking the blood away from your neck, “my perfect bride.” 

He rabbits his hips into your squelching cunt until finally stilling, cock buried balls deep inside your spasming pussy as you milk his throbbing dick. Your pussy walls flutter and clamp down around him as he spills hot and sticky inside your slick heat. 

“Beautiful,” he kisses your earlobe with a sigh, cock kicking inside your pussy as he finishes painting your walls white. 

Endorphins make you dizzy and bubbly, smiling up at Leon’s blood stained face as he gazes lovingly down at you. 

“My husband,” you murmur, lovesick and sweet, hands coming up to caress his face and he kisses each of your palms. 

“All yours,” he promises seriously, “there is a reason why all things are as they are.”

You laugh and smooth a thumb under his eye, “You’re so cute.”

He snorts a laugh, delighting you immensely, and settles down into the messy sheets before pulling you into his chest. 

With a soft kiss placed atop his heart, you snuggle into his body until he wraps his arms around you. The soft rise and fall of his chest lulls you to sleep. 

Talking to Lara the next day is surprisingly easy. You have the feeling Leon used some weird vampire energy on her since she seemed unusually chill about it. Promising you that she’ll keep in touch once she heads back home, you spend the few short hours she has left together before she leaves early for the airport. 

It’s sad to see her go, but with Leon’s steady presence next to you filling your senses with that wonderful smell of cloves and cedar, you have zero regret in staying. 

[doc-pickles]

sent to save me | sidney crosby (ch. 1)

series masterlist

summary: sid meets nikita’s best friend and runs into a ghost from the past

warnings: none! :)

author’s note: hello! sooooooooo I have probably a million other things to do/write but this came to me and I knew I needed to write it. this is going to be a series and will probably be a lot angstier than my vegas series. I have some ideas for what’s going to happen and I can’t wait to share them with y’all!! anyways I hope yall enjoy this!

xoxo

nina

(ps - title is from ‘always been you’ by shawn mendes)

It starts off innocently enough. He’s at Geno’s for dinner like he does once a week. Nikita is babbling away next to him about everything he’s learning in first grade.

“And Mrs. Riley is super nice and I get to sit next to Vivie who always shares her fruit snacks,” Nikita says all of this at a speed that Sid can barely comprehend but he simply nods at his godson.

“Always with Vivie,” Anna coos as she ruffles Nikita’s hair, her other hand coming to rest against her swollen belly. “Attached at the leg you two.”

Sid chuckles and gently corrects Anya which has her rolling her eyes as she squeezes his arm. Being with his best friend and his family made going home to an empty house hard, but Sid knew he wouldn’t trade his weekly dinners at the Malkin house for anything.

“Vivie is my best friend in the whole world,” Niki rambles on as he runs out of the room. He comes back with a picture frame and shows it proudly to Sid. “This is us at science camp over the summer.”

Sid’s brows furrow as soon as he looks at the photo. The little girl with her arm wrapped around Nikita is a bit shorter than him, dirty blonde hair pulled back into braids. Her big brown eyes are staring up at the camera, upturned nose and gap toothed grin framed with freckles and a set of dimples. Sid stares at the photo for probably a bit too long, the little girl looking somehow familiar even though he knows he’s never met her.

“Nice picture Niki,” Sid smiles when he finally tears his eyes away from the frame. Anya is watching him carefully but doesn’t say anything as Nikita begins talking about how much he loves math.

The rest of the night is uneventful, Geno’s steak and potatoes going over well with everyone at the table. If he and Anya notice that Sid is quieter than usual they don’t say anything to him. It’s not until he’s playing outside with Nikita after dinner that Sid catches his friends whispering to each other as they wash dishes.

When he gets home later Sidney doesn’t even take his shoes off before he’s walking down the hallway to his study. The photo album is tucked into the farthest bookshelf, the dark leather binding helping it to blend in. But he knows exactly where it is, exactly what it feels like in his hands. He pulls it off the shelf and holds it for a moment before opening it to the first page.

‘To Sidney, the love of my life. Happy anniversary babe!

xoxo A’

The handwriting is loopy and decidedly womanly. He traces his fingers over the words reverently before flipping the page. Sid’s breath hitches as his eyes lock on the photo there. Blonde hair, shining green eyes, and a dimpled smile so wide he still sees it every once in a while when he closes his eyes.

There’s a part of him that wants so badly to flip through every page, to take in the smiling woman on the pages and the version of himself that seems to have faded without her. Instead he closes the photo book, shelving it again before he goes out to the living room and pours himself a glass of scotch.

“Why the hell am I still here if you can’t make me a priority Sidney?”

“I’m trying! Don’t you see that? But I also have a team to think about, a whole fucking franchise riding on my shoulders! Don’t they matter too?”

The night and all of his regrets replayed in Sid’s head often. Annie’s tear soaked face, the words they both carelessly yelled at each other. His front door slamming, her things gone from his house by the time he came back from his next road trip.

He’d wanted Annie and hockey, wanted her to see that he was trying to make them both a priority but it hadn’t been enough for her. He hadn’t been enough for her.

And in the end none of it had mattered because three weeks after their argument Sid had shattered his knee in what would be his last game as a Penguin.

Yeah he missed hockey, but he missed Annie Wright more than anything else.

+

A week later Anna’s water breaks in the middle of the night. Sidney drives over and crashes on Geno’s couch as they head to the hospital together. When he wakes up Nikita is poking his cheek with a frown.

“Hey bud,” Sid yawns as he wipes a hand over his face. “Your mom and dad went to the hospital, looks like you’re gonna be a big brother soon.”

Nikita seems wholly unimpressed as he looks at his godfather, “Can we get McDonald’s breakfast before school?”

And because he’s a sucker for Niki, Sid agrees.

By the time they’re pulling up to Nikita’s school Sid is more awake, parking and following Niki up the path to his classroom.

“I’ll pick you up later too bud,” Sid tells him as he ruffles his hair. “Then maybe we can go see your little sister.”

“Nikita!”

Both Sidney and Nikita whip around at the excited voice, watching as a little girl runs up to them. Sid immediately clocks her as Vivie from the picture Nikita showed him. She’s sporting white overalls and a pink sweater, her blonde curls bouncing around in the pigtails fastened high on her head.

Vivie hugs Niki tightly then blinks up at Sid and he swears the air just got much thinner because he can’t pull in a full breath, not when he feels like he’s looking in a god damn mirror. Vivie has the same big hazel eyes as him, the same jutting chin and furrowed brows. But her smile and those dimples… Those remind Sidney of someone else.

“Vivie! You left your lunchbox in the car,” the voice that haunts his dreams is suddenly right behind Sid and before he can think better of it he turns around.

Annie looks much the same as she did eight years ago, her heart shaped face and wide green eyes exactly how he remembered them. Her blonde hair is shorter, resting just above her shoulders now. There’s something else Sid can’t quite put his finger on but he thinks that Annie doesn’t hold that same infectious joy she used to.

“Oh my god,” Annie breathes the words out slowly as she makes eye contact with Sidney. “I- Oh my god…”

“Miss Annie, this is my Uncle Sid,” Nikita explains excitedly. “My mommy is having a baby so Uncle Sid got me McDonald’s and took me to school!”

Annie schools her features as she tears her gaze away from Sid and pastes on a smile for Nikita, “That’s so exciting! I’m sure you’re excited to be a big brother.”

The school bell rings then and Vivie and Nikita waste no time hastily saying goodbye before running off hand in hand. When they’re out of sight Sidney turns to Annie who’s white as a sheet as she stares at her shoes.

“Annie,” the word is low and laced with hurt as Sid focuses on the woman he used to love. “Annie please tell me you didn’t… That she’s not…”

Sidney can’t bring himself to say the words out loud, even though he’s almost positive they’re true. Vivie’s face is ingrained in his mind now, showing up every time he blinks. His eyes, Annie’s smile… He stares at Annie and begs her to tell him anything but what he knows is true.

Please don’t tell me you had our daughter and kept it from me. Please don’t tell me I’ve missed seven years of her life. Please don’t tell me that perfect little girl has been so close and so far. Please. Please. Please.

“Sidney, I am so sorry.”

[mermaidinthecity]

Don't tell me no. Just tell me yes. I see your red heart beating out your chest. Let's walk on fire. I'll take you high. I'll make your head feel better than the best. Yellow, paint it gold. I wanna rock you, til you roll. Hello, do what you're told. I wanna rock you, til you roll. Shut your mouth, and close your eyes. Put your fingers to the sky. Just sit back and turn it up. Take it, til ya had too much. Feel the rush, getting close. Let me be your overdose. Let me be your overdose. Let me be your overdose. Let me be your overdose.

OverdoZZe by ZZ Ward

[jinkookspencil]

Helloooo how are you????? Could I plz request for a jungkook drabble where he and his gf spend an evening at a funfair...so stuff like them going on scary rollercoasters together...feeding each other typical funfair snacks...and ending their day on the ferris wheel with kisses (cliche i know hahaha)... also I saw how you wrote that you have been feeling down recently...Wish you better days :))))

hi!! tysm for requesting! this is adorable and unintentionally reminded me of the speak now taylor swift album, i listened to it as i was editing <3 and thank you for your words/wishes/concern - my mental health has been…. rocky but at the very least, I’m in a better place mentally than i was when you submitted this. and it took a whiiiiiiiiiile to feel better so it took a while to do anything and write this (sorry) - but better late than never! i hope you like it!! <3 

wonderstruck | jjk

jungkook convinced his fearful girlfriend to try out a rollercoaster at the funfair...

tags + wc: jungkook x reader (f) / fluff / one-shot / established relationship / clean / ~1.5k

“If I do this, you owe me a churro,” you say, looking up at the rickety death trap looming over you.

“Done,” Jungkook smiles, kissing you on the cheek. He forcefully pulls your hand from your own grasp until he��s able to hold it, giving you reassuring squeezes and pep talks throughout your short wait in the line to the rollercoaster cart. With your hand still in his, he pulls you to the very first cart.

“Oh fuck no,” you protest, trying to pull him away to another cart, but failing. He barely moves an inch.

“Baby, baby,” he giggles, succeeding when he pulls you closer to him. “The front is less scary!”

“Don’t lie to me!”

“Ask him!” Jungkook points to the attendant, who merely nods in response, hiding his annoyance that your resistance held up the visitors loading onto the ride. 

Reluctantly sitting on the cold piece of metal, Jungkook could see the terror in your eyes as reality sets in when the safety bar is pulled down against your bodies. 

“You good?” he peeks, trying to read your face and think of any possible way he could calm you down. Jokes, a kiss, ill-timed dirty whispers, and flashing his abs always did the trick - but none seemed appropriate or doable then and there. If all else fails, he hoped his smile could do something.

“If we die…. we die together. There’s something beautiful in that…. right?”

Jungkook smiles when your eyes finally land on him, and he sees most of your fear fade away, replaced by what he could only assume was love, if not comfort. Either way, it meant the same. Whether his smile was what did it or not, his happiness only grew.

 “There is. Pretty dark, baby, but… there is. I mean, I do want to spend the rest of my life with you.” 

The smile on your face was too brief. The cart is jolted onto its tracks, and Jungkook is deafened and delighted by the sound of your screams and calls of his name, which last all the way through the track until the cart comes to a complete stop once again. 

Peeking at you at once, he tries to conceal his amusement, yet it shines through along with his concern. “Are you okay, baby?” he asks with raised brows, a hint of a smile, and wide eyes as you catch your breath.

“….I think I can do that again,” you murmur. 

Laughing, he throws his head back against the headrest. “I knew you’d love it. Let’s go to another one, the scarier ones. I’m not letting you settle on this one.”

“Deal, Jeon Jungkook,” you say. The metal bar whizzes away from you and Jungkook hops out of the cart just as fast, holding his hand out for you to hold as you jump out after him. “But only if you hold my hand like this whenever you can, alright?”

“You don’t even have to ask.”

Jungkook kisses your hand before you can take another step, holding you tight as you whizz and weave through the crowds. 

“Wait, Jungkook! About that churro….”

+

“It all seems like toys from up here. Not scary at all, actually.” 

Looking over the funfair far below you, each ride, stall, and booth was now lit up in an array of neon colors and flashes. Distant screams and carousel melodies are faint from so high above, people seeming small as ants, pixels on a computer, or, he guessed, miniature toys as you described it. 

“I knew you had it in you,” Jungkook giggles, kissing your cheek and pulling you tight against his chest, not caring that it was practically impossible for you to be any closer. Already caged into his body, you rub your head in the crook of his neck, taking off your matching animal headbands to better fit against him. His other hand only leaves your thigh a couple of times to grab the occasional handfuls from the popcorn bucket resting on your lap. “There’s nothing you can’t do, honey.”

“I think that statement applies to you, Koo,” you giggle, gesturing towards the third-wheel accompanying you on your compact Ferris wheel seat: the giant plushie he’d won you at a game booth. “I nearly took the guy’s eye out trying to win it. And you beat me at the duck shooting game and that stupid guessing game.”

“Well, first of all, you won this,” he begins, showing you the cheap plastic watch on his hand, “- at the ring toss, which is notoriously difficult. Don’t sell yourself short. And you could easily win the guessing game, too, you know? It’s just physics! It’s not so hard to guess how much candy was in the jar!” Jungkook ignores you rolling your eyes.  I’ll give you the others, though. Darts is a skill I mastered in the dorms…. and I was going to let you win the shooting game but I won before I even realized I was in the lead. I guess I just have a good eye.”

“Well, obviously. If you didn’t have a good eye, you wouldn’t be with me, now would you?”

Jungkook chuckled heartily at your comment, and considering the way you moved your back and snuggled in position, he was sure you’d felt the laugh escape him through his chest against your back. He couldn’t help it - he loved seeing you all confident. “Well, obviously. It’s the perfect set of eyes, actually - it has a secret power, too. Want to know what it is?”

“If you see the future, then you probably missed a very cool job opportunity of opening up a booth here.”

“Make that two secret powers, actually. One for each eye!” Jungkook is too excited at his sudden idea, sitting up to face you directly and make sure you were following along and listening to every word. “This eye,” he begins, pointing to his right one. “This eye acts as a compass. It led me to my soulmate. That day we met, I noticed you the moment you walked into the room. I know it’s a compass pointing to my soulmate since I’ve been unable, and unwanting, to take my eyes off you ever since.”

You roll your eyes in an attempt to tease Jungkook’s cheesy words, but you know his words to be true - it was always hard to ignore both his gaze and the rush you’d feel whenever you feel his eyes on you, always lingering for far too long. 

“You were right about the other eye. The left eye sees the future. My future.”

“And what do you see in your future, O’ Mystical Jungkook?” you tease, widening your eyes and waving your fingers.

“I see you.”

Jungkook’s tone is serious, yet it doesn’t stop a shy smile from appearing on his face when he sees the same on yours. 

“Exactly where I should be,” you reply. “A mysterious, traveling fortune teller I’d met as a child told me that I’d fall in love and spend the rest of my life with another clairvoyant.”

“Then I guess I’m in the right place, too,” he smirks, wiggling his eyebrows. 

Before you could nod in response, his lips are on yours, and his arms pull you close to him once again. You don’t pull away from one another until a loud boom sounds out from behind you, alerting the two of you to the sudden visual of colored sparks lighting up the brighter night sky. Jungkook always loved fireworks. Every time, the sight of a colorful sky was always so enchanting… but was even more so was the love of his love right beside him. Captivated, he takes in every wonderstruck expression on your face, every burst reflected in your eyes, and every second. Yet he held himself there, resisting the urge to spill out his heart and kiss what enchanted him most, to take in the scene a moment longer. It was practically a scene from a movie or a fairy tale ending, too picture-perfect to forget. Jungkook could wait patiently to do what he wanted to - certain he’d have the rest of his life to do so…. yet no ride that day gave him the same burst of adrenaline as the second you pulled him by his collar and kissed him soft and slow with the same certainty of an eternity together. 

[toothpastecanyon]

Human Again, Chapter 10 of 10

Sayaka Miki was worse than dead. She was lost forever, adrift, drowning in a sea of her darkest emotions... until she wasn't. She was a witch, and then she was waking up in Kyoko's apartment. This timeline is doomed, and for what? Sayaka has to find that out for herself.

A timeline where Madoka was able to trade her soul for Sayaka's in episode nine. TW for suicidal ideation and self harm.

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

______________________________________________________________

On the outskirts of Mikihara Town, in an apartment block down by the rail lines, there is the sound of a piano. It’s a quiet sound, drowned out as a freight train rumbles past, but when the noise dies down, it comes to life again. It’s coming from the upper floors, where the first rays of soft morning sun alight upon two windows, and spill into the room beyond.

Daylight dapples the folds of an unmade bed, plays upon a small clump of clothes piled next to it on the floor. It streams over a small stove and a countertop, and a dirty bowl in the sink. It shines bright on a figure sitting before a keyboard on her desk, and her fingers seem to glow as they slide across the keys.

And she makes the piano sing.

A songbook is on the stand in front of her, but she isn’t playing anything in particular. Her fingers wander this way and that, playing something slow and somber - then they pause for a moment, and switch to something different, something a little faster, and then slow again. They ebb and flow like waves crashing on the shore; each iteration a little different, yet all a part of something larger. Like a voice in a chorus… a violin in an orchestra.

The figure hangs her head, and plays on. If someone were listening in, they’d wonder why such a beautiful song brought a strange chill to their soul, made them want to turn away, to cover their ears. No matter how the music changes, there’s something strangely disquieting to it, and as she plays louder, as her fingers fall harder on each key, there’s an anger, a twisting, raging fury that comes alive in the music, and the figure shudders from the weight of it… and then it goes quiet again. Quiet, and cold.

And in the midst of that quiet, an alarm rings. The figure takes a moment to react… but after a moment, Sayaka Miki sighs, turns off her piano, picks up her phone, and silences it. She looks up at the brightening sky, and takes a slow breath.

A new day.

Rising to her feet, she picks a hair off her work uniform, then grabs her bag and heads for the door.

______________________________________________________________

“You’re late.”

“I’m not-” Sayaka checks her phone. “-that late! Come on, two minutes?”

Her manager, standing by the counter with arms crossed, rolls his eyes and walks into the back. Her coworker snorts.

“You’re in trou-ble.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She shrugs off her bag. “I’ll put this away and come right out.”

“Dude, no rush. No one even comes in until lunch.”

“But I thought you heard, two minutes late is an emergency!” Sayaka hears a grunt from the back, and they both snicker. “Alright, give me a second.”

The radio plays classical music, and Sayaka hums along as she works. She arranges a stand of headphones, and then she walks along the aisle of albums, sorting all the ones put back out of place. One is sold out; her hand lingers on the empty space, on the name printed on the price tag:

By Kyosuke Kamijo

Sayaka sighs, and gives a little smile. Of course it’s sold out - it’s some of his best work yet.

She should reach out.

The thought takes her by surprise; a blink, then she frowns. No, no, not to Kyouske… but she does take out her phone, and scroll down, down to her texts with Hitomi. Sayaka wished her a happy birthday a couple months ago, and she said thanks… Maybe it was time to reach out again. They could go out to lunch, or just do a call-

“What are you doing?”

Sayaka jumps and turns around. Her manager is standing there, glaring down at her.

“You’re on the clock,” he says, and watches her stuff her phone back into her pocket. “I don’t pay you to text all day.”

“I haven’t been texting all day! I just took it out for a second, I-”

“You shouldn’t take it out at all.” He eyes the ground. “Sweep if you’re looking for something to do. This floor is disgusting.”

Then he shuffles away, leaving Sayaka to glare at the space where he’d been. She feels her phone in her pocket, then rolls her eyes and goes to get a broom.

Maybe she’ll text her later, if she remembers.

______________________________________________________________

“Hey, beautiful. Haven’t seen you around before.”

The world is rushing past the train, and Sayaka sits forwards, glaring at a guy leering over a girl a few rows in front.

“Uhm…” The girl gives a nervous laugh. She has a Mitakihara school uniform on, Sayaka notices, and her lip curls. “Th-thank you? I-”

“You’re so welcome! Hey, what’s your name? What stop you getting off at?” The man chuckles. “What’s the matter? Don’t look so scared - I’m just making friendly conversation! What’s wrong with that?”

“I-I… Nothing, I didn’t mean to-”

“Leave her alone.” Sayaka says, and all eyes turn to her. “She doesn’t want to talk to some creep on the train.”

The man narrows his eyes. “Creep?” He says, and stalks down the aisle. “You calling me a creep, miss?”

He towers over her, silhouetted by the overhead lights but for the dangerous glint in his eyes and the teeth in his smile. He leans forwards, trapping her in her row of seats, but she doesn’t draw back.

“You heard me,” her voice is quiet, collected. “Now leave her alone.”

A laugh. “Oh, yeah? Or what?”

There’s a melody in her head as she looks at the man. A melody like the one she played this morning, like the one that raged in her soul as she buried two useless men by the side of a rail line.

He’s just like them, she thinks. There are people out there as bad as witches, people that no one would mourn, people that the world is better off without… and he’s one of them. He’s going to wander this city, making life worse for everyone he meets, just begging for someone to put him out of his misery.

Sayaka stares through the man without a word, and a shiver seems to pass over him. He takes a step back, then scowls and throws up his hands.

“Whatever, I don’t need this drama. I was just joking around, but I forgot, that’s a crime these days…”

He walks off muttering, and after a moment, Sayaka turns her eyes back to the front. The girl looks over, and gives her a shy smile.

“Thanks,” She says. “Thanks for, um… thanks.”

Sayaka returns her smile, but she doesn’t feel like talking. That melody is still echoing in her mind, and she stares out of the window, watching the world go by, looking for the beauty in it again… it doesn’t take as long as it used to.

The sun is setting, yet still shining over Mitakihara City. The sky is awash with bright yellow fading into a deep blue, dappled with rich orange clouds that play on the seamless panes of the skyscrapers and the river cutting between them. The sun ducks between buildings, its reddened light falling softly on the inside of the train, and upon her face.

She can feel its gentle warmth, and she smiles.

______________________________________________________________

The sun has already set as Sayaka steps off the train and makes her way home. It’s not a long walk from the station, but she’s been on her feet all day. God, they ache, but she’s nearly there, nearly to her bed. She thinks of sinking into it, and it carries her forward.

As she makes it to her building, though, there’s a sound from the alley that makes her stop. A small, plaintive meow, and she watches a little black cat pad into the streetlight.

Sayaka grins, and leans down. “There you are,” she says, and sticks out her hand, lets it sniff her. “You had me worried this morning. Where were you?”

The cat pushes its face into Sayaka’s fingers, then looks up at her shoulder. Its tail swishes, and Sayaka stands up before she can jump.

“Oh, no, you can’t come up.” The cat meows at her and presses into her legs, and she laughs. “I know, I know, I’m sorry. But if you fall asleep on me, I might just take you home, and I can’t have pets in my apartment!” Grinning, she digs in her purse. “But I know something that’ll cheer you up. Since you didn’t show this morning, I’ve been carting this around all day!”

Sayaka takes out a bag of treats and snorts as the cat’s eyes go wide. She spends a little time feeding them to it, stroking its fur and feeling the purr rumble deep in its chest. She hasn’t named the cat, though - if you name something, it becomes a pet, and she can’t have a pet right now, okay?

Her smile dims a bit, and she rises to her feet. The cat looks up at her with wide eyes, and she waves goodbye.

“Well, I’ll see you around. I’ll have more food for you tomorrow, okay?”

Then she turns and swipes her keycard, and as she heads inside, she remembers how tired she is. Her steps fall heavy on the way to the elevator; she presses a button, then leans back, trying to take the weight off her feet. There’s a ding, and as the doors open she trudges down the hall, digging in her purse for her key.

There it is. She pushes the door open, slips off her purse on the way to the bedroom, and flops onto her bed. What a day… after a moment, she draws out her phone to check the time. The first thing that comes up when it opens is her texts with Hitomi - oh, yeah, she was going to text her.

Sayaka hesitates, and then closes it and sits up. It’s too late in the day, she’ll do it later. And as much as she’d love to go to sleep right now, she’s got exam prep to do.

Her stomach growls as she gets to her feet. And dinner - ugh, she has to think about dinner. Are those leftovers from the weekend still good? Or maybe she can see what she has in the pantry…

______________________________________________________________

“And I told your father not to cheap out on the contractors, but you know him.”

Sayaka sits across from her mother at a restaurant, picking at her food. “Mhm.”

“So now our bathroom’s not going to be usable for months while we get the new team to look over the plans, and not to mention any new permits!”

“Uh huh.”

“It’s really such a hassle when we could have just paid them in the first place!”

“Yeah,” Sayaka put down her chopsticks. “I don’t know why you’re surprised. I mean, I love Dad, but every time we meet you’ve got a story like this.”

“Oh, it’s not every time-“

“It’s pretty much every time, yeah. I’m kind of sick of it.”

The silence hangs, there, and she looks up to see her mother’s raised eyebrows. With a wince, Sayaka clears her throat.

“Sorry, that was- I didn’t mean to be rude. Sorry.”

“It’s okay-“

“No, that was…” She rubs her eyes. “It’s just, ah, classes are kind of a lot right now. And we got this new manager at my job who’s being such a jerk about my exam dates.”

“About your exams? He knows you’re a-“

“College student, yeah, it’s ridiculous!” She stabs her chicken. “It’s like, fire me if you want, I’m not showing up next Friday, okay!”

“He’s not going to fire you, dear.”

“He likes to say he will. We’ll see, I guess.” She makes a face. “Ugh, maybe it’s time to start looking somewhere else. It just sucks, because I really liked that place before he showed up.”

“That’s a shame.” Her mother tries for a smile. “You’re always welcome back home, you know.”

“Yeah…”

“I mean, you’re so young to be living on your own,” she continues, and the worried shine in her eye has Sayaka stuffing her face so she doesn’t have to respond. “All of my friends were so shocked to hear about it - none of their daughters moved out for college!”

“Mhm.”

“I just can’t help but worry. All this stress with the job - for one, what must it be doing to your grades?”

She tries not to roll her eyes. “They’re fine, Mom.”

“You’re such a smart girl, they should be more than fine! The daughter I raised would be top of the class if it weren’t for all this unnecessary-“

“Mom-“

“Look, I’m sorry if we gave you a hard time about your major. We were just concerned, but we won’t-“

“It’s not that, Mom.”

“Then what is it?” She looks at Sayaka with pleading eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Sayaka cringes. “Nothing’s wrong, I like living on my own. I just… I need to do this for myself, you know?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, I just… I need to know I can…”

She pauses, wordlessly trying to grapple with the tangled mess of reasons in her head - and then she feels something on her hand. Her mother’s hand, stretched across the table, squeezing gently. Her mother’s face, trying so hard to smile - but she can’t hide that old terror.

That terror, the first thing that greeted her when she came back to her parents in the storm shelter all those years ago. It was that terror that made their hugs squeeze so tight, that terror that had them peeking through her bedroom door when they thought she was asleep. It was that terror that held back tears when they asked questions she couldn’t answer, and even after all these years, even as they’ve got better at hiding it, at smiling through it… it’s that same terror that stares back at her now.

Her mother’s hand squeezes a bit too tight, and Sayaka pulls back. “I just, I just need to do this for myself, that’s all.”

“Sayaka-“

“It’s fine, Mom, my grades are fine, I’m fine, everything’s fine-“

“But it’s not fine, why can’t you ever just tell me what’s wrong so I can help you!”

Sayaka stiffens, and now it’s her mother’s words that weigh heavy in the silence. Her mother instantly knows that’s too loud, too real; she struggles to correct.

“I-I mean, I just… why didn’t you tell me what was wrong with- with your job?” She seizes on that point and leans forward. “You don’t have to, to put up with that… you know, my friend owns a company near you, they’re looking for a secretary, if you wanted to…?”

She trails off, her hands anxiously gripping the tablecloth, talking more to herself than anyone else. With a sigh, Sayaka rubs her neck.

“Yeah,” she says. “Sure, Mom, I’ll, I’ll take a look. Thanks.”

“Of course, dear.” Her mother looks down at her dinner, and takes a bite. “Oh, this is, delicious! Is yours alright?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah. Mine’s great.”

“Mine too. You know, it was that friend who told me about this place, she said it’s so good, and, and she was right, wasn’t she?”

“Yeah, she was. It’s nice.”

Her mother looks up, and they smile at each other like two soldiers across a battlefield, all the hurt and love and secrets strewn like mines between them. And as long as they stay at their stations, as long as they let those shells rot in the ground…

They can pretend they don’t have to squint.

“This is nice.”

______________________________________________________________

“Can I sit here?”

Sayaka’s looking at her phone when she hears the voice; glancing up, it’s the schoolgirl again. She looks nervous, sounds nervous, and Sayaka can’t help but spot a figure lingering at the far end of the train car, standing with empty seats all around him.

So Sayaka puts on a big smile. “Oh, hey sis!” She says loudly, and scoots over. “Of course you can, it’s great to see you!”

The schoolgirl looks a bit taken aback for a moment, but she cottons on. “O-oh, uh, yeah, it’s great to see you too! How are you doing?”

“Great, great. I’m just meeting up with my boyfriend - he’s gonna be getting on the train in a second!” From the corner of her eye, Sayaka watches the dark figure start to slink off. She lets her voice soften. “You had a follower, huh?”

“Uh, yeah.” The girl fiddles with the strap of her bag. “S-sorry, Miss, I didn’t want to bother you, I just-“

“No, no, that’s smart. Bother me all you want, okay?” Her smile twists a bit. “Sorry you had to.”

“I don’t know why this keeps happening.” She tugs at her skirt. “Is it, is it something I’m doing? I feel like I’m giving them the wrong idea, or-”

“You’re not giving anyone the wrong idea. You’re in a school uniform. They know what they’re doing.”

“Oh.”

And there didn’t seem to be much to say after that; Sayaka tries, she wracks her brain to think of something else, something a bit more encouraging… but that’s it, isn’t it? That’s the world they live in.

What else is there to say but “Oh”?

The train’s slowing now, coming up to a platform. Sayaka lets the deceleration push her against the seat. She feels a tap on her shoulder, and looks over at the girl.

“Do you want me to move?” Says the girl. “So your boyfriend can sit here?”

“My…?” A blink, and then with a chuckle she remembers. “Oh, hah! No, no, it’s fine. I made up the boyfriend part to scare him off.”

“Oh - haha, oh, that makes sense!”

They both laugh at that.

______________________________________________________________

Exam week. Sayaka wakes up every day with her heart fluttering in her chest; she sets twice as many alarms, dresses twice as quickly, and runs out the door in a flash. She doesn’t take breakfast; she’s too nervous to eat. She doesn’t even stop when the cat in the alley comes out tail-up to greet her - just a quick “Sorry, gotta go!” over her shoulder.

Every night, she comes back drained. Every night, she slumps a little lower on the train - she’s found herself dozing off, finding herself jolting awake at the sound of her station and hurrying to the doors before they close.

It’s a bone-tiredness, these nights, but there’s also a kind of satisfaction to it. Commiserating texts with her classmates as she heats up dinner, reading up one more time on the material until her eyes can’t stay open… and then, for these rare nights, falling asleep as soon as she hits the mattress. There’s not a moment of lying awake in the dark, not a thought in her head, not even a dream.

It’s lovely, Sayaka thinks, and as she rides the train home this Friday night, she can’t help but think about what a relief it’s going to be. Another semester survived, and even though she’s going to be on pins and needles waiting for the results… she actually feels pretty good about this.

A smile sets into her face as she stares out into the darkness.

She’s doing alright for herself, isn’t she? She’s out here in the world, and she’s doing alright for herself.

It seems like such a small thing, but for so long, when Sayaka imagined the future… it was never something that had her in it. For so long she never imagined she’d make it past high school. It wasn’t always that she thought she’d kill herself; it persisted for years after she stopped actively wanting to, this kind of dull certainty that for one reason or another, she just wouldn’t be around much longer. It wasn’t a scary thought, it just was - the sky was blue, and the future was a void.

But now, when she looks to the future, she doesn’t see a void. She’s already signed up for next semester, and a classmate was asking if anyone wanted to rent with her - they were talking about it. She went to the dentist the other week, and they asked her if she’d like to book next year’s appointment - she said yes.

It’s kind of boring, isn’t it?

Doing okay, it’s boring, and maybe there’s a part of her that misses when things were life and death, when she was a hero or a monster, when she felt like she could give herself to saving the world. It’s such a nebulous concept now, saving the world - what does that mean, putting the recycling out? Holding the door for someone? Voting?

There was something so comforting about the certainty she used to see the world in, even when it was a certainty that she was broken inside and nothing was ever going to get better for her. It’s that certainty she misses, that sense that there’s always a right thing to do. But this new life she has, in all its messiness - it’s one she can finally see herself living in.

A smile, slight and tired and jaded… but also genuine.

She’s glad. She’s glad she can finally see that.

Her phone buzzes then; it’s from a group chat she’s in, asking if anyone wants to go out tomorrow to celebrate. That sounds fun; she sits up a bit, and starts texting as the train slows down. The announcement washes over her without really registering; her stop isn’t for a while, so she hardly notices as the doors open, as someone steps on board.

The figure brushes past her, and Sayaka doesn’t connect it at first.

Why does she - fuck, why does she suddenly feel sick? She puts a hand to her mouth and realises her fingers are trembling, the hairs are raised up in goosebumps all down her arms. Her heart is pounding in her chest, screaming in her ears; she’s breathing hard, like she wants to run.

Run. Run.

The doors close, and suddenly she feels trapped. Gripping the seat with white knuckles, Sayaka glances up and down the train; what’s going on? There’s nothing wrong, it’s just…

It’s just the schoolgirl, and

Oh no.

And there. On her shoulder.

Oh, please, no.

Those eyes. Those red eyes.

It’s him.

Kyubey perches innocently on the schoolgirl’s shoulder as she takes a seat, his tail slowly swishing from side to side. For a moment, Sayaka can only stare on in speechless horror, and he doesn’t meet her eyes, doesn’t give any indication he sees her at all. He just sits there, and cleans his paws, and it takes everything Sayaka has not to throw up on the floor.

She - how… what does - oh god. Oh, god, oh god oh god.

She has to say something.

Forcing her shaking legs under her, Sayaka stands up - and then immediately stumbles as the train lurches to a start.

“Whoa! Are you okay, Miss?”

“I’m-“ Sayaka sees she’s stood up as well, sees him on her shoulder as she steps closer, and struggles not to back away. “I- you’ve got to-“

“Miss?”

Sayaka’s looking at the outstretched hand. There’s a ring on it.

There’s a ring on it, with a little blue gem. Only a shade greener than her own once was, and her heart sinks.

The schoolgirl stands in front of her, worry etched on her face, and all the words in the world dry up on Sayaka’s tongue. What’s there to say?

It’s already too late.

“I…” Sayaka clears her throat, looks anywhere but her face. “I just… uh, I just thought I saw something.”

“Saw what?”

“Just… something.” She glances at Kyubey, and swallows hard. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Uh… okay?”

Sayaka leaves the schoolgirl standing there as she quickly shuffles away and sits back down; the girl lingers a second longer, and then seems to back away and take her seat again. Sayaka can feel her questioning gaze burning into the back of her head; she can hear a faint little whispering, and then, like nails on a chalkboard, she can hear his reply echo in her mind.

“I don’t know,” he says, so innocently, and Sayaka digs her fingers into the sides of her legs. “It’s certainly interesting if she did, but she’s not a magical girl. She’d just think you’re crazy if you tried to tell her about this, so it’s best not to.”

Sayaka couldn’t stand to hear his voice a second longer; she grabbed her bag and headed for the next carriage.

“Anyway, she’s no one important. Are you ready for tonight? Good.”

She runs through three carriages before his voice finally fades from her mind. It’s more populated up here, and she hides herself in the corner, her hand clamped over her mouth, begging her blurry eyes to hold on until she’s back home. It feels like an eternity, this train ride, and she can see through every sideways glance that she isn’t fooling anyone. Finally they come to her stop, and she squeezes through the opening doors and sprints away.

There’s no holding it back once she’s off the train. By the time she makes it to her house, she’s a sobbing wreck, shaking like a leaf as she pats herself down for her keycard.

Meow?

“N-not now,” Sayaka shakes her head, shakes her head. She feels something soft brush against her leg and she jerks back. “I-I said not now! Agh, shit!”

Her keycard drops to the ground, and it takes a couple tries to scoop it up again. Her trembling fingers struggle to swipe it, and then she opens the door and slams it behind her like Kyubey himself is still hot on her heels. She doesn’t take the elevator - she can’t stand to wait another second - but instead rushes up the stairs two steps at a time, makes it to her room, shuts it hard and locks it twice. Drawing the chain into place, she steps back, back again, her heart pounding in her neck, her breath getting faster and fasterand fasterandfasteruntil she can’t

she can’t

breathe

she can’t

take

a breath, her

her head

light

vision swimming

she can’t

she can’t

she can’t, she

can’t, she can’t,

she can’t, she can’t,

she can’t, she can’t, she can’t, she can’t…

…

Breathe in. Crouched against the bed, Sayaka takes a single shuddering breath. It feels like drowning to hold it, but she manages a moment, and lets it burst out. Her heart feels like a jackhammer.

Breathe in. Her whole body is fighting it. She feels the fear like a vice tightening on her chest, but she holds it. She holds it, and she lets it out, and she waits a moment.

Breathe in. The bed covers, hanging, hanging over. She grips them. Feels the softness. It’s soft. Breathe out.

…

Breathe in. The ground is, the ground is cold. Because it’s wood.

It’s dark in here. She should turn on a light.

Breathe out.

With a hard swallow, Sayaka puts her hand on her chest, feeling her heart slowly, slowly reel back to baseline. She takes another breath in, and lets it out with a long sigh.

Hoooly shit. It’s been a while since she had a bad one, huh? She did not miss doing that.

The slightest chuckle. No - no, she did not.

Haha, hah… oh, jesus. That poor girl.

She sits there for a good while until it feels like she can stand again. And once she’s up, all she wants to do is go to sleep. She hasn’t eaten in hours, but her stomach twists at the thought of dinner.

No, no. She needs to be done with today.

Collapsing into bed, Sayaka closes her heavy eyes, and prays for all the thoughts swirling around her head to be quiet, to please just hold off until tomorrow…

She prays, and the god of this world is listening. With a soft pulse of light, a pink figure appears in the room. The figure floats forward until she’s standing right over Sayaka’s bed, reaches down, and brushes the hair from her eyes. Sayaka’s frown eases, and she rolls onto her side and drifts away.

The figure stands there for a moment, smiling softly down on her. Then she kneels down, and takes her hand.

Sayaka Miki has a strange dream that night.

______________________________________________________________

They’re tuning the instruments. Sayaka can hear them on stage, the little flourishes of violins, the tooting of clarinets, a bang of the drums. The show is starting soon.

Sayaka looks around, and frowns.

The show is starting soon, but… all the seats around her are empty. Down beneath the balcony, too; there’s no one there. And - huh, even though she can hear the instruments, there’s no sign of the orchestra. The stage is utterly empty.

What’s going on? Where is she? Why is-

“Please don’t be scared.”

A warm hand clasps over her own, and Sayaka looks over to see a face she’s missed for almost seven years now. No way. No way.

Madoka Kaname smiles. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought this would be a nice place to talk.”

“Ma- Ma-“ Sayaka can’t get the words out. She shakes her head. “I’m dreaming. This can’t be- it’s you!”

“I missed you too, Sayaka.” Her smile crumples a little. “I missed you so much.”

Sayaka hears that voice, sees that smile, and it’s all so familiar it feels like an ache in her heart. This can’t be a dream; she doesn’t dream like this. But if this is real, that means, that means…!

She doesn’t waste another second. Throwing her arms around Madoka, she wraps her up in a hug and squeezes like she’s never going to let go. She feels Madoka squeeze right back, and the world around them shrinks to fit this one embrace, this reunion where for just a moment, the holes they left in each other’s hearts are filled, and nothing at all is wrong.

Just one, perfect, joyful moment. But as all things do, it fades, and Sayaka pulls back, wiping her eyes.

“I-I don’t, I don’t understand.” She gives a shaky laugh. “How are you here? Did… Did Homura do it? Did she really save you?”

Madoka’s smile twists. “She tried so hard to,” she said, and her words put a pit in Sayaka’s stomach. “But she did something even better. She helped me realise what I really wanted with my wish.” A laugh. “And I was going to waste it on cake, remember?”

“No…”

“It’s okay, Sayaka. Really, it is.” She took her hands. “I wished to erase all witches from this world, so no one has to suffer for making their wishes. So no one feels like everything they did was for nothing, you know?” A smile. “So that’s what I am, now. I go to every magical girl in every timeline that’s ever existed, and I don’t let them fall into despair. I can’t think of any wish more meaningful than that.”

“But…” Sayaka struggles for words. “Madoka…”

A gentle squeeze on her hands. “Y’know, it’s funny, though,” Madoka says, softly, and frowns. “I’m not sure how I’m able to be here, with you. I already saved you, didn’t I?”

“You did, you did.” A lump forms in her throat. “And I never got to say thank you. Thank you, Madoka. Thank you so much.”

“And you’re all grown up,” Madoka says, smiling up at her - smiling up. Her hands are warm, but small.

Sayaka looks at her, and for a split second, she doesn’t see her friend. She sees that schoolgirl on the train.

She’s only fourteen years old.

“Yeah,” Sayaka says, softly. “I’m twenty-one.” A pause, then she tries to shake herself out of that with a laugh. “Don’t, uh, really feel that grown up though, hah!”

Madoka leans against her. “What’s that like?” She asks, and there’s a little anxiousness to it. “Did you ever… make things up with Hitomi?”

Hitomi - god. Sayaka puts an arm around her, and sighs. “Uh, yeah, sort of. We still hung out at school… but I ended up missing a lot of days.”

“Why?”

Oh boy, why indeed. “I, uh, had a lot to work through,” she says, giving a hard swallow as she thought of those days. “It wasn’t easy with everyone asking me what happened - especially Hitomi. I never knew what to say to her.”

“You aren’t friends anymore?”

“No, no, we’re still friends! Kind of. We meet up once or twice a year, it’s… nice.”

“Once or twice a year?” Madoka looks up at her with wide eyes. “That’s awful, we used to hang out every day!”

“Yeah… yeah.” Sayaka grimaces. “It’s… things change, I guess. She’s doing well, though.”

“What about your Mom and Dad? You made it back to them, right?”

“Oh, yeah, of course. And we meet up much more often, like every week or so.” She chuckles a little. “They’d never have let me move out if I didn’t.”

“Why didn’t you just stay with them?”

“Huh?”

“My Mom always said I could stay with them as long as I want.” There’s a shakiness to her voice now; Sayaka watched her wipe her face. “I-I really miss her, Sayaka. I miss everyone!”

“Whoa, hey, it’s okay-“

“And it’s so lonely now,” she says, and as Sayaka draws her into a hug she collapses against her chest. “This is, th-this is what I want, b-but what if it isn’t? What if I made a huge mistake a-and I c-can’t go back?”

“Madoka-“

“What i-if I’m not even saving anyone?”

“Don’t be silly. You saved me, oka-”

“I didn’t save you at all!”

Madoka collapsed, sobbing, in her arms. Blinking, Sayaka holds her tight, struggling for words.

“What do you… what do you mean?”

“I can see it,” she says, barely above a whisper. “I can see your pain. Ever since I made that wish for you, you’ve been in so much pain, and that’s why I’m here, isn’t it? I can only visit witches - I-I wouldn’t be here if you were happy!” Madoka buries herself in Sayaka’s shoulder, her face crumpling. “Your life seems so sad now. You don’t talk to Hitomi, you live all alone, and you’re still so… still so hurt and it’s all my fault for bringing you back! I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”

Holding her close with a lump in her throat, Sayaka couldn’t help but find this so familiar. She’s had this conversation before, hasn’t she? In a field of rubble, under weeping clouds, Madoka had said this all before.

It used to keep Sayaka awake, what she should have said that day. What she could have said, and maybe Madoka would still be with her, maybe everything would’ve turned out alright, maybe maybe maybe. She’d learned you could drown in maybes.

But Madoka is here now, and she’s so much smaller than the hero Sayaka remembers. She’s here now, asking for help, and this time, Sayaka doesn’t find herself so speechless.

“Madoka… you did save me,” she said, and when Madoka opens her mouth: “You did. I promise you, there’s not a day that goes by now where I’m not grateful for what you did for me.”

“But you’re not happy.”

“I am happy, Madoka. Really, I am.” Sayaka gazes up at a sky full of stars, and sighs. “For the longest time, I didn’t think I’d ever even feel okay again. I kept thinking about how… how different everything was, how different I was. But that’s just it, you know? Everything changes, Madoka. It would’ve changed even if none of this had happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I don’t know how different our lives would have been if Kyubey never came for us. I don’t know if Hitomi and I would have always drifted away, but… I was never going to stay the same person I was before this all happened. Witch or no.” She sighs. “I used to think I wasn’t capable of happiness anymore… and maybe, for just a little bit of time, I wasn’t. Maybe I was a witch, once. But I changed - I grew up. And you know, I’m kinda starting to like the person I grew into, and I like her a little more every year.”

Madoka looks up at her with wide, shining eyes, and Sayaka strokes the hair from her face.

“And you gave me this, Madoka. You gave me the gift of growing up. And I hope you never doubt that you’ve helped people so much… because you’ve helped me. You’ve saved me, and I… I can never thank you enough.” Her smile shakes a bit. “I love you, Madoka Kaname.”

“I love you too,” Madoka says, and wipes her eyes. She doesn’t say anything else for a moment, but she stares up at the stars, and Sayaka can see them twinkling in her eyes. “I miss you. I miss how things used to be. I… I know it’s awful, but part of me wishes I could go back. This wish… it’s the right thing to do, and I believe in it so much, but… it’s so hard sometimes. Is that selfish of me?”

“It’s not selfish. It’s not selfish. This was never supposed to be our problem to fix.” She holds Madoka tighter. “We were kids - we were supposed to go to school, and do dumb stuff, and we were supposed to grow up together. Why did we need to save the world?”

“Sayaka?”

“I’m proud of you.” Sayaka says, and gives a sad laugh. “Of course you’d be the one to save all the witches. You’re the bravest, the kindest, the strongest person I know, and I… I just wish I could save you like you saved me. It’s… it’s not fair. It’s not fair!”

“Yeah… I guess it isn’t.” Madoka looks down for a moment. Then she looks back up, and there’s a faint smile on her face. “You know, you don’t sound so different. You’ve still gotta stick up for me, huh?”

“Hah. Always.” She hesitates for a moment, then with a little grin she squeezes tighter. “You might be all heroic and junk now, but you’re still mine, Madoka, all mine!”

They both giggle at that; Sayaka grabs her shoulders and pulls her down to the floor with her, and they lie under the stars together, hand in hand, laughter ringing out… and then, slowly, fading.

Madoka gives one last giggle, and then lets it out with a sigh… and silence, now. Silence as they both wonder the same question.

It’s Madoka who says it first.

“I guess… I should be going now, huh?”

Sayaka knows she’s looking at her, but she keeps her eyes up at the stars. “I’m not gonna see you again, am I?” She says, and blinks hard. The stars are blurry now as she feels Madoka’s gentle squeeze.

“I can’t stay. That’s not my purpose.” A pause. “But… thank you, Sayaka. It’s funny - I was supposed to be the one comforting you, but I don’t think I did much of that, huh?”

“You do it for everyone else. I’m glad that just once, someone could do it for you.” She feels Madoka rest her head against her shoulder. “You take care of yourself, okay? You promise?”

“I promise.”

And for a while, they lay there together under the stars. Sayaka wasn’t sure how long they stayed like this, but she can see a brightening on the horizon. The light grows, and grows, and soon it’s enveloping her; she turns her head to the side, but all she sees is light, and it feels like she’s fading, like she’s waking up…

She squeezes her hand, and for the last time in this world, Madoka squeezes back.

______________________________________________________________

It’s blinding, the light. Sayaka opens her eyes, and finds the sun gazing through her windows. She looks up at the ceiling, and sees dust caught in golden sunbeams, tracing an intricate dance just above her head. She breathes out, and watches the dance shift, watches it continue on altered, yet exactly the same.

Different, but exactly the same.

Sayaka sits up slowly, and rubs the dried tears from her eyes. She finds she’s holding something in her hand; looking down, she opens her palm, and finds curled around her fingers a simple, pink ribbon.

A smile as she holds it up to the light. She never doubted it was more than a dream, but it’s a relief to know for sure. Madoka - that really was her. She really saw her again! And she was…

The smile falls. She clasps the ribbon gently to her chest, and takes a sharp breath in. She holds it for a moment, then lets it out in a deep sigh, and gets to her feet.

There’s a scratching sound in the silence. Sayaka takes a moment to notice it, to frown at a little shadow flickering against the back wall; she looks to the window, and gives a little snort.

Walks over, and grins at the little cat pawing at the glass.

“Well, would you look at that?” She sees the cat stop to stare up at her with wide eyes, and snorts. “You’re up kinda high, huh? You wanna come in?”

The cat’s tail swishes as she reaches over and unlatches the window. It swings open, and with one foot, and then the other, it steps onto the desk.

“Mind the keyboard- whoa!” It nuzzles up against her, and she chuckles. “It’s like you’re worried about me or something. Or maybe just hungry - is that it?”

She pets the cat, and the ribbon she’s holding drapes over its ears for a moment before it's flicked away. Sayaka stands there for a moment, her grin softening as she listens to the purr.

“Heh,” she says, and moves to close the window. “Well, let me get you something to eat. I’ve got those treats you like - you want some of those? Come on.”

Sayaka makes her way to the kitchen, and the cat follows, stepping over the piano keys and leaving them still and silent on her desk, glowing in the light of a new day.

[arialice]

Hey malevolent fans, let me tell you of the most malevolent coded album, Counterfeit Arcade by Shayfer James.

So many of the songs either in lyrics or vibes remind me so much of this show, so in a few words I'm going to attempt to explain my thought process about each song (be prepared, it's long)

Weight of the World - I don't have much to say about the lyrics. They kind of fit.

"That's just the weight of the world/We do what we must to stay alive/That's just the weight of the world/And we'll all be the weak and the weary sometime"

The instrumentals, tune and vibes is what really makes this song shine for me. Piano (obviously), the general deranged vibes and so on.

For the Departed - reminds me so much of part 20, thought I can't personally decide who's 'singing' the song. It lowkey works from both John's and Arthur's perspective.

"Save yourself/I am far beyond repair/They will bury me alive/But I'm not inclined to care"

More inclined to think Arthur because of the lines:

"Now I must finish what I started, oh-oh/I'll write a symphony for the departed/And I have no time for second chances/So I survive on bourbon, blood, and backward glances, oh"

"And so, the scene begins/Your cries become the wind/A desperate plea best left unheard/Then my contrived goodbye/A poet's pantomime/A drunken jester's final words"

Where we belong - this song. It's literally malevolent in a song. This is the most literal one. I would quote the entire song if I could, but here's some key lines:

"I know we're far beyond the point of no return/Let's say we light a fire and be the first to burn"

"Do you recall the day when we went wrong?/Time is flying/Ease your weary mind, we'll be alone"

"There's a freight train coming, barreling around the bend/There's a red light flashing, oh, ladies and gentlemen, this is the end/I do believe that we've a lesson left to learn/So take your seats, your salutations, and your turn"

"And on the way to our salvation, we'll be making plans/To overthrow the king and pick apart the promised lands"

L.V.S (Your Lady Waits) - makes me think about Oscar, specifically BlindFaith. Very much "you are my reason" vibes. I think it's the overall softness of the song, the emotion in it is so palpable.

"Oh, the mountains bow before ya/Oh, the clouds are open wide"

"Oh, and we, my friend/Will meet again"

"Upon this Autumn morn/Your laughter lingers on"

Villainous thing - This song is so, so, so obnoxiously Kayne to me, as in it feels like a song thats meant to be sung by him. The kinda cheery tune mixed with the lyrics sell it for me.

"Welcome, won't you come inside?/Oh I fear the passing year did not deserve you"

"Soaked and shivered from the rain/You have always been a delicate disaster" - singing about Arthur

"Waste no worry for the world/Let it be a tragedy of love and glory/While they wait by gates of pearl/We'll be building palaces in purgatory" - makes me think of him pitching the the deal with John in like a reverse psychology way. "Oh I'm sure Arthur is fine you can keep building your empire here in the Dark World, king."

Battle Cry - Works in general considering the 'monster of the week' trope this podcast sometimes falls into.

"Hear my battle cry, hear that mighty sound/They've come before and many more will try to strike me down/Hear my battle cry, hear that mighty roar"

The second verse is what really stands out to me though.

"I met a stranger on my way to here from God knows where/He won my lover in a dirty game of solitaire/He stole my crown and placed it crookedly upon his head/He turned around, I took him down and this is what I said" - again, thinking about part 20 (can you tell its my favorite?) The 'stranger' is The King/Hastur/Yellow/Whatever. 'But he's not a stranger?' He kind of is. After Arthur and John are together for so long, even the King admits that he doesn't know why his other half would pick Arthur. John himself had been making small steps at redemption, and just those baby steps made him pretty duffrebt from the King.

"You'll sacrifice the truth to justify your sins/But I don't need an excuse to let the darkness in" - again Arthur and the King. The King does 'bad' shit simply because he wants, yet when Arthur does something moraly 'bad', he has to justify it to himself.

Peace - Very part 31, aka Arthur's Scratch induced nightmare.

"I'd rather live alone than live a lie/I will never deserve peace" - the confessions we get from Arthur about how he felt about Bella

"I spoke to the ghost on my way to asleep/But the boards in the floor called my footsteps a thief" -reminds me of the argument with James. My line of reasoning is that James is the 'boards', and he's calling him a thief because he 'stole' Bella's life by stepping into it, marrying her when he didnt love her, if that makes sense.

"I will never deserve peace/I will never deserve peace/I will never deserve peace" - general self deprication

Diggin' Up Hatchets - makes me think of Larson or in general season 3. A little bit cult-y. It's mostly tune and vibes but the lyrics kind of work

"We're diggin’ up hatchets today/And sharpening the blades/In case, a stitch of hope remains/In this hell that we've raised"

"Hey! We're witnessing the waking of the dead/We’re ripping all the wires from our heads"

"We're burying mercy and grace/In unmarked shallow graves"

"There’s a plan for us lunatics and liars/We have faulty gears and wires/They can't save us, but they’ll do the best they can"

Under the Willow - John theme song in my mind, can't convince me otherwise. Song about discovering one's self and purpose.

"Mother, mother, I think I found my soul/While I was hiding under the willow"

"I've been the portrait of despair/Despite this hat and badge I wear/I've been a captive and a coward" - 'hat and badge' in this case is the crown and robe of the king

"I met a wise man under the willow/Lover, lover, look for me no more/I've been right here under the willow" - Arthur, obviously

"I've been a bastard and a fool/Rewritten nearly every rule/But I believe I'm worth redemption" - the redemption line alone is perfect.

Godspeed - the Jarthur divorce song. Arguing with someone but knowing that in the end you'll find each other again.

"There’s many ways to hide a heart that bleeds/But I prefer the ease of rolling up my sleeves" - might be imagining bit I sweat once John told Arthur that he wears his heart on his sleeve, if not I apologize.

"You’ve got some nerve to be coming/around with that card up your sleeve/And those thorns in your crown" - I think 'card up your sleeve refers to a plan, a secret, which John had many of

"Funny how the night is not as long,/when you depend upon/The dark before the dawn" - John deceiving Arthur many a times. Works well with the repeating line "I used to be someone that you could belive", Arthur starts ignoring and going against John (see, the entire thing with Oscar)

"Good luck, godspeed, I know I’ll see you again/I’ll always call you a friend indeed" - They always get over it and play nice again, until the next argument of course.

Have a Seat Misery - Coda and Intermezzo vibes. Short and sweet. Reads like a conversation between Kayne and Arthur.

"Have a seat, misery/Lord how I’ve missed you/Don’t go crying to me/That I kept you away for too long/Just put your feet up, friend/cause I read all your postcards/And in a way, I am happy to say/That you’ve never been gone"

"Let me light that for you/Seems your hand’s a bit shaky/We’ve got damage to do/And I know you’ll need smoke in your chest/So have a seat, misery/And don't ever mistake me/Of all of my friends, you know/You are the one I like best"

Conclusion/TLDR: Counterfeit Arcade by Shayfer James is, to me, THE malevolent album. Are some of these conclusions a stretch? Probably considering some of the lyrics I didn't present do actually go against the messages of the show, but I had fun writing this and the good(things matching up really well) outweighed the bad(some contradictions). Also go listen to the album or just Shayfer James in general

[wheels-of-despair]

Fucking Fireworks Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie doesn't like fireworks anymore. Contains: Angst, panic attack, me torturing this sweet boy just so I can comfort him like the wicked witch I am. Word Count: 1.5k-ish

Fucking fireworks.

You've always hated them. They're loud, they're obnoxious, they're a waste of money. If you buy fireworks, you're basically just setting your money on fire for a few seconds of sparks.

In the past, you'd tolerated them because Eddie loved them. They were loud, they were obnoxious, they were free entertainment because they were everywhere.

Last Fourth of July, you'd brought a carton of ice cream and two spoons up to the roof and occasionally fed each other until the show began. Yeah, yeah, you two are so in love it's disgusting, you're aware.

Last New Year's Eve, you'd huddled with him under a blanket and kissed when his watch beeped at midnight, then laid your head on his shoulder and watched the fireworks from a distance.

But that was before.

Eddie doesn't like fireworks anymore.

He won't talk about it, but you see him flinch when a light bulb flickers or a barely-running car turns the corner while riding their squeaky brakes. He buries his face in your neck and squeezes his eyes shut during thunderstorms. He froze when some idiot kids set off a few firecrackers nearby on Halloween.

New Year's Eve was going to be a challenge. Trying to shield him from the fireworks without him knowing what you were doing was going to be a bigger one. You're familiar with the snap of "I'm not a fucking baby!" But he is. He's yours.

The snow worked in your favor. Too dangerous to get on a roof covered in snow, you could slip and break something. Too cold to go anywhere. You'd suggest staying home where it's warm and trying to sync Metallica's Ride the Lightning album with the countdown, so that "For Whom the Bell Tolls" would begin when the clock strikes 12. A genius idea that your sweet metalhead wouldn't be able to refuse.

He went for it.

You'd gone to Family Video and brought home a pile of his favorite movies to watch that evening, along with a case of beer, a bag full of snacks, and a pizza. At midnight, it would be just the two of you and the greatest album ever recorded. Loud. Very loud.

You'd timed everything almost perfectly.

The two of you had finished off an entire pizza and nearly half the snacks by the time the last movie ended at 11:27. You were scheduled to press play on Ride the Lightning at 11:48, so you even had a few minutes to clean up.

It was a great plan… until it wasn't.

At 11:43, while you were washing the last dirty dish, the power went out with a pop.

"Eds?"

Silence. He was on the couch a minute ago.

You fumbled blindly for the flashlight in the junk drawer, letting out a shaky sigh when your hand finally closed around it. You clicked the button and felt a flood of relief when it illuminated the kitchen. Pointing the flashlight at the floor, you made you way over to Eddie.

He was frozen in place on the couch, hands clutching at his sweatpants in a white-knuckle grip.

"Eddie? Are you okay?" you ask softly, sitting on the coffee table in front of him, careful not to shine the light in his eyes. He doesn't respond.

You envied the people in movies, who always made this look so easy. There's nothing easy about it. You feel helpless, because all you want to do is take care of him, and you don't know how. There's no guide book called How to Recover from Nearly Dying in an Alternate Dimension. Maybe you'd talk to Nancy about writing one next year.

Okay, what caused this? The dark. How do we fix it? More light. You suddenly remember a camping lantern that should be in the hall closet. "I'll be right back, Eds," you say with an eerily convincing calmness, considering the panic you felt inside. You lay the flashlight on the coffee table in front of him and angle it toward the hall.

Miraculously, the lantern is not only where it belongs, but it has batteries in it. This wondrous little contraption, received as a Christmas present last year and immediately banished to a cluttered closet, filled the small room with light. You brought it back to the couch, sitting in front of Eddie once more. "Eds?"

He blinked. Blinking is good. You slowly extend your right hand, palm up, toward him. He stares at it, and after a moment, releases a hand from the death grip on his pants and places it in yours. You exhale for the first time in what felt like hours.

"It's just your standard, run-of-the-mill, Hawkins-Sucks power outage, babe. It's okay. You're okay," you say with a smile you hope looks comforting. He's breathing normally, but his eyes are still stuck in a blank stare. Your thumb rubs circles on the back of his hand.

A few minutes pass, and you move a little closer, sitting on the edge of the coffee table, his hand still in yours. You can see a little color coming back into his face, courtesy of the greatest Christmas present anyone has ever received. You can also feel the inside temperature beginning to drop from the lack of heat.

"Eddie? You with me?" You squeeze his hand, and his eyes finally meet yours. There he is. Your face breaks into a grateful smile.

"It's getting cold. What do you say we move this party to the bedroom?" you ask, wiggling your eyebrows for effect. He gives you half a smile, and you feel warmth surge through your whole body. He's back. He's okay.

You hand him the flashlight and slowly rise with the lantern, still not letting go of his hand, and lead him toward the bedroom. You stop at the junk drawer again, shoving extra batteries into your pocket, just in case.

You're both in sweats already, so all you need to do is get him into bed and keep him occupied until the power comes back on. You reach for Eddie's flashlight before he crawls into bed. You switch it off, placing it on the bedside table near the still-lit lantern and spare batteries, and climb in to face him. The lantern fills the room with a comforting glow, the pile of blankets you're under is quickly warming up, you can handle this. You give him a reassuring smile and reach over to tuck a piece of hair behind his ear.

And then the fucking fireworks start.

His body tenses. His eyes widen. You are going to calm him down, and then you're going to go murder everyone who's doing this to him.

"Eddie. EDDIE. It's just fireworks. It's a new year. It's just people celebrating." He doesn't blink. He doesn't move.

What caused this? The noise. How do we fix it? Drown it out with more noise. Why can't we do that? Because the Hawkins power grid is a piece of shit. How else can we fix it? Think, idiot, think… if we can't drown it out with noise, maybe we can drown it out with silence.

"C'mere, baby." You roll from your side to your back and extend an arm, drawing him to you. You're a little surprised, but thankful, when he lets you guide his head to your chest. Your right arm wraps around his back, your left palm presses firmly to his ear to help drown out the sound. You hold him tight, because you don't know what else to do.

He seems to relax after a few minutes, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. Your right hand begins moving up and down his back, and you press a kiss to the top of his head before resting your cheek against his fluffy locks. You'll stay in this position all night if you have to.

After what feels like an eternity, the crackles and hisses and pops begin to die down. You begin counting when you think you've heard the last of it, not daring to move until you get to 100. You have to restart the count four times before you're finally able to get there, hoping that whoever was supplying this endless exploding nightmare would blow a hand or a dick off. Finally, it's over.

You move your hand off his ear. Is he asleep? His breathing is steady and he hasn't moved in a while. A few seconds pass before his hand finds yours… and moves it back to his ear. You bite back a chuckle and squeeze him, kissing the top of his head again. He groans sleepily and nuzzles into your chest. He's still here. He's okay.

No thanks to those fucking fireworks.