#dropped harder then Dark Suns EX

[sabrondabrainrot]

I forgot to mention, ep "Lord Eclipse's Surprise in VRCHAT" is some LOONEY TUNES levels of funny. Literally Tom and Jerry sketch.

I finished it a bit ago but I just can't get it out of my head how funny that was.

I think my favorite part was when D! Sun dropped Lord Eclipse off that cliff and the show had the AUDACITY to play A SLIDE WHISTLE sound effect.

LORD ECLIPSE WAS PLAYED OUT BY A SLIDE WHISTLE.

no one understands the comedy gold in that.

D!Sun is also a comedian, he's SO funny when he drops the act. Him just deadass "I don't dirty my hands."

-drops THE LORD ECLIPSE off of a cliff-

AND Eclipse's SCREAM the FADE AWAY was so funny.

[trivia-yandere]

Hello! I was wondering If I could request? Yandere bts whoever you choose, where their darling has never cum before, experiencing it for the first time with them and overstimulation, getting dumb off of dick 🥰

yes we can! it wouldn't be us if we didn't add at least a little yandere to it

two sentence horror story

it's been nearly five years since you last saw seokjin... @sweetempathprunetree @darkuni63 @momnomnom @chimmy-licious

halloween masterlist

word count: 2.309

warning: dirty talk, humiliation kink, slight sadism, restraint, bound/gagged, pussy slapping, possessive/jealous seokjin, oral (f receiving), spitting, edging, yandere/dark themes, fingering, squirting,

it's been nearly five years since you last saw seokjin.

Seokjin likes to think that he’s graced you with his presence. That you are lucky to have him - lucky to have someone so successful, handsome and rich. You were lucky to be his girl, someone who he spoiled with nice clothing and jewelry. He took you on expensively lavish vacations and dates. You ate only the finest food and drank the best wine the world has to offer. You didn’t even have to work, not while you were his girl and he had it - because that meant that you also had it.

But you did work, much to Seokjin’s dismay. You were a woman that didn’t need him to be dependent, no matter how many times he would place his credit card in your hands, you only ever used it on useless things such as gas for your car - the same car he wishes you’d get rid of all together. It wasn’t luxurious and it didn’t fit the look for someone like you - his girl.

Seokjin didn’t appreciate your lack of respect for him. Your refusal to quit your job, stating that you worked hard to get where you were at. So what? Thousands of girls would drop everything to be beside him like you were, and yet everything he did never appeared good enough for you. You didn’t need him like other women would’ve - and that is what upsets him. There was no control over you. You had your own money, car, home - what was he truly useful for if you didn’t need him for anything?

Seokjin had been lenient with you. Even as the months passed and the relationship grew, he had yet to bed you. He learned that you had little experience during one tipsy conversation and that’s all he needed to know to understand now. You couldn’t submit because there was never a reason to - no other man gave you what he could. You wouldn’t submit to a man that couldn’t even make you cum - how comical. 

“J-Jin…”

Seokjin hums, head snapping to your direction. You were always so beautiful to him. You didn’t have to try hard to catch his attention. Your glow was as bright as the sun, radiating off of you heavenly.

Seokjin could say he was a bit of a sadist. It’s another reason why he isn’t quick to bed you - you couldn’t handle then what he had it store for you now. He marvels at your oiled, naked skin, arms wrapped tightly behind you while your legs are spread apart widely, ankles tied beneath the bed post. 

“Remember how you told me you never came before?” Seokjin questions, learning against the bed frame to look down upon you. “That ex boyfriend of yours only cared about pleasuring himself, huh?”

Seokjin notes how you’re confused, wondering why he’s bringing this up now out of all times. 

“I saw you talking to him. It must be awkward working with an ex.” Seokjin’s tone is dangerously calm as he speaks, eyes glaring holes into your face for a reaction. “Is that why you don’t want to quit?”

You’re taken aback by his sudden change in demeanor. “I have to talk to him. He’s my coworker.”

Wrong.

Seokjin slaps his hand against your bare pussy harshly. You jump at the impact, eyes widening. “J-Jin-”

Seokjin slaps you again, and again. Each slap is harder than the last. You don’t notice the moans coming between your lips and just how wet you were becoming. Shivers erupt through your skin and it feels taboo just feeling this way; getting pleasure deprived from pain. 

“You’re soaked.” Jin chuckles, fingertips ghosting across your bulging clit. “I don’t believe you.”

You knit your brows in frustration - both sexual and irritable. 

“You and him had dinner.” 

The prints of Seokjin’s fingers place themself firmly against your clit. He rubs in slow, taunting circles.

“I-I…what?” You moan, hips buckling, arms squirming in the restraints. You’re unsure why you allowed him to have you in such a position. It was brought up randomly when you had come to his home and you’d admit that you were curious. 

“I-I…what?” Seokjin mocks, rubbing along your clit more roughly. “You aren’t a dumb bitch, Y/N. You know what I’m speaking of.”

Seokjin never spoke to you like this, but it was hard being upset when he was pleasuring while doing so. You bit your lip to suppress a moan. 

“A work dinner.” You pant, recollecting the only time you had seen the man outside working hours. “You followed me?”

Of course he had. Seokjin scoffs. You were his girl after all - someone he has graced his presence for. He allowed you into spaces other people could only dream of being in. 

“Have you ever been eaten out?” The question catches you off guard and causes you to grow hot with embarrassment. 

Seokjin hums upon your head shake and now he grows hungry, mouth salivating at the thought of tasting you. 

“Though you do not deserve it,” Seokjin lowers himself between your legs, eyes set right on your wet clit. You squirm once more, humiliated by him being so close to you. “I’ll just have a little taste.”

“Jin- oh!” your words are caught in your throat when you feel him - his tongue wet and warm against your clit. It flickers back and forth at a steady pace.

As for Jin, his nose touches the top of your clit as he dives deeper to have a taste of you. Having complete control over you is an added bonus while getting the chance to finally taste you. His tongue laps between your folds as your thighs quiver.

You gasp when Jin leans back to spit, then suckle onto your clit once more. He looks up, eyes watching the way your head falls back as you continue to moan.

“I-I think I’m gonna-”

“No.” Jin pulls back, lifting himself up and away from your clit. You shivered, feeling your high come crumbling down to a disappointing halt. “What do you two talk about?”

You swallow thickly, eyes flickering open. You’re panting as you speak. “N-Nothing but work.”

“Why don’t I believe you?” Jin tilts his head. His fingers are dangerously close to your clit once more. “There has to be a reason why you keep going back to work.”

You want to scream that it’s because it’s your job and you need it, but your mouth is shut. Jin fingers enter you swiftly and now he’s pumping inside of you. “You’re so wet that I was able to slide right in.”

Your walls clench around his fingers selfishly, wanting more and more. The pleasure is one you have not felt in a while - and even then it wasn’t like Seokjin’s. Your juices are coating his bedsheets, but he doesn’t care. The sight of you is utterly filthy and worth it.

“You’re going back to see him.” Seokjin’s thumb rests upon your clit as he pumps, rubbing in circles. 

Your eyes are clenched shut and your moaning increases. “Does it feel good, Y/N?” Jin teases - he knows it does. 

“Y-Yes!” you sigh. “So good.”

Jin removes his fingers from inside of you and slaps your clit harshly. You scream, tears lining your eyes. Your high once again came down, disappointed at the lack of pleasure.

“Why should you deserve to feel good?” Jin questions, his tone dark. “It’s not like you deserve it.”

Your eyes blink a few times to look at Jin. He appears serious, waiting for you to respond to him. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” you murmur to him, hands clenching in the restraints. 

Seokjin scoffs. “I want you to tell me why I should let you cum?”

You swallow. “You were the one that wanted to make me cum.” you hiss. You were growing frustrated with the man. He was hell bent on showing you how pleasurable sex could be and not one-sided - but now all it appeared to be was him questioning you about an ex you cared little about.

“Aw, feisty.” Jin cackles.

“If this is what you meant then maybe I could go to my ex.”

Your ears are ringing seconds after you snap at Seokjin, your cheek stinging. The room is eerily silent.

“You…” Seokjin’s tone is deep. The deepest you’ve ever heard it become. 

“Jin-”

Another slap across your cheek, and then another. You don’t manage to speak before Seokjin hovering above you onto the bed.

Seokjin pulls off his pants, underwear going right along with it. He has been lenient enough but your words angered him. To say such a thing to him when he’s allowed you to do what you wanted the entirety of the relationship was a slap to the face.

“I wanted our first time to be enjoyable.” Seokjin says. He spits at your clit once more - not because he needed to. No, you were wet enough, but because spitting on you was what he liked doing to show that you were his - he likes to say it’s a way to mark his territory. 

“Seokjin.” you attempt, but you’re squirming upon feeling the tip of his cock rubbing against your clit. 

“If you cum along the way, that’s great for you.” Jin murmurs, cock now at your hole. He’s entering you slowly.

You widen your eyes at his words. Where was he going with this?

Jin snaps his hips inside of you. You scream out at the sudden impact. He removes himself just to do it again - this time grinding so deep that you swear you could feel him in your stomach.

Jin’s left hand grips your thighs while his right clamps down onto your mouth and just beneath your nose. Your eyes bulge at the sensation of him fucking you. He had no mercy, snapping his hips so roughly that the bedframe slams against the wall behind you.

“And to think I was going to let you keep that little job.” Jin chuckles and shakes his head. There’s already a white ring around his cock. “You’re creaming, baby. You’ve never been fucked this good, huh?”

Your throat groans a response, unable to do a proper one. Your eyes are rolling now, stomach churning. Your walls are clenching around him, suching him in for more.

“But after what you’ve said,” Seokjin pries your mouth open, entering his fingers inside. Your tongue swirls around this, tasting your juices. “I’ll never allow you out of here.”

Your mind isn’t registering his words - after all, you assume this was just roleplay. Men were into weird stuff. Instead you were busy groaning beneath him, toes curling. There’s drool dripping out of your mouth and down Seokjin’s wrist, but he doesn’t go to remove himself inside of you.

“Look at you!” Jin laughs, snapping his hips harder. “Cock drunk. You don’t even know what I’m saying.”

“P-Please let m-me cum!” you gurgle out. You could feel the familiar high bubbling once more, this time even more intense then the last two, 

“Why should I?” Jin removes his fingers from your mouth to cup your cheeks roughly. He was still pissed - and rightfully so. He was already upset that you were a whore enough to have dinner with your edx (colleague or not) and now you were begging him to have you cum?

“Please, Jin!” you feel hot tears pour from your eyes, so far gone that you don’t even realize that you’re crying from pure pleasure. 

Jin’s nails dig into your cheeks so deep that he notices that they begin to draw a pinch of blood. He growls low, feeling his own high coming.

Jin spits on you once more before capturing your lips in his, allowing a few more sloppy thrusts before he’s about to cum. He removes himself from you, cumming right onto your twitching clit, admiring how his cum drips off of you.

“I’ll let you cum, whore.” Jin murmurs, allowing four fingers inside of you now. The stretch causes you to scream once more, but he doesn’t care. He’s pumping inside of you without a care. 

You should be upset. You were being degraded and called out your name - you had spit running down your face. But you weren’t. You were far gone from your sanity, and the only thing you wanted now was to cum like he promised. 

“You don’t understand me now, Y/N.” Jin murmurs to you, eyes fixed on your soaking pussy. “But you’re not leaving. In due time you'll understand.”

“I-I’m cumming…!” you bite your lips, eyebrows knitting. 

Seokjin chuckles darkly, free hand going to rub your clit to bring you closer to your high. He feels you clench around his even tighter, head falling back against the headboard. 

Your juices squirt out, soaking him in the chest. It’s long and accompanied by a low shout.

Your breathing slows as your body twitches. You were feeling exhausted.

“Can you take these off?” you murmur after a few minutes of trying to compose yourself. 

Upon not hearing a response, your eyes blink open to find Seokjin.

“W-What-”

Your eyes are burning and now you’re screaming at the top of your legs. You pull at your arms to shield your eyes, but you are unable to. Your head thrashes back and forth in an attempt to get away.

“Now you can’t work if you can’t see.” Seokjin says in between your screams. “If you can’t see, then there’s no one else to look at.”

You’re crying, but even then it hurts. Your vision is blurred until it goes completely black.

“Now I can take care of you like I intended in the beginning.” Seokjin’s voice is now calm - peaceful. The one you recalled since becoming entangled with him. “Behave, or I’ll have to hurt you again. And I don’t want to do that, Y/N. I love you.”

it's been nearly five years since you last saw seokjin.

He reminds you every day that if you misbehave, he'll take your hearing next.

[m0dernidi0ts]

I Love You, I'm Sorry

Spencer Reid x Ex-BAU!Reader -- ANGST HEAVY Hi!!! This is my first fic on this page, so please be nice! I kept the reader gender neutral! This is based off I Love You, I'm Sorry by Gracie Abrams.

“Two Augusts ago

I told the truth, oh, but you didn't like it, you went home

You're in your Benz, I'm by the gate

Now you go alone

Charm all the people you train for, you mean well but aim low

And I'll make it known like I'm getting paid” The bustling sounds of New York City filled your ears as you stood outside the FBI headquarters, the Cigarette you had pressed firmly in between your fingers treated you like an old friend. You hadn’t expected to see your old team mates for awhile— it was painful enough leaving them behind. When you joined the BAU, it was as if everything you had fought for had, all the pain you endure, melted away. That insatiable hunger that had kept you going had been fed; Yet, it came back like a dog to a bone when  you got to know Dr. Spencer Reid. Just like you, he had be in his early 20s when he joined the BAU. A prodigy that saw right through the mask you dawned everyday. Spencer and you became more than colleagues, you became friends. It was your fault you read into it. You should have known better, you did know better. That’s why you left everything you had worked so hard for, you left it all for him- Transferred to the Terrorism Unit in New York.  "Cause that's just the way life goes,

I like to slam doors closed

Trust me, I know it's always about me

I love you, I'm sorry” Unfortunately the universe loved to remind you that no matter how far you run, your problems will find you. You took a drag, letting the smoke linger in your mouth for a moment, poised and still, just long enough to feel the anticipation build before you brought it to your lips, drawing in a slow, thoughtful breath. The first inhale was always an introduction — soft and tentative, an invitation into the steady warmth that bloomed in your chest, spreading in tendrils of sharpness that sank deeper with each passing second.z

You exhaled, watching the thin stream of smoke curl upward, twisting like an ephemeral thought that disappeared just as you tried to hold onto it. The scent wrapped around you, a smell like half-forgotten memories and late nights that stretched out until the edges blurred. There was something almost hypnotic about it, the ritual of it all: the inhale, the slow release, the way the smoke seemed to absorb whatever was knotted up inside of you, lifting it away with an elegance nothing else could touch. You knew you’d toss the cigarette soon, drop it to the ground and grind it under your heel, watching the last ember die with a soft hiss against the concrete. But for now, you let it burn in your hand, the smoke lingering around you like a dark, comforting ghost, a reminder that sometimes, all you needed was a small, quiet fire to keep you company. “Two summers from now

We'll have been talking, but not all that often, we're cool now

I'll be on a boat, you're on a plane going somewhere, same

And I'll have a drink

Wistfully lean out my window and watch the sun set on the lake

I might not feel real, but it's okay”

Up in your office, you hide from the world. You knew if was an overdrawn profile, the smallest men tower over the city to feel something. No matter how overdrawn it was, it painted you perfectly. When the first attack happened, your SSA told he’d have to call in the BAU – It’s sad that happy reunion she thought this was wouldn’t happen. You had never wish the evil in this world way harder than we your colleague had stepped into your office. You couldn’t do this, there wouldn’t be enough time in the world for you to be ready to see him again.

“Agent [Last Name],” your colleague murmured, breaking through your spiraling thoughts. “the BAU has arrived.”

The words struck you like a lightning bolt, sending a rush of adrenaline through your veins. You held your breath, caught between panic and anticipation. The tightness in your chest expanded, threatening to overwhelm you. You had left the BAU not out of a lack of dedication, but to escape the gravitational pull of your own heart. You loved Spencer, and that love had grown like a shadow over everything else, darker and more complex than the cases you worked. You took a deep breath. As you steeled yourself, you caught a glimpse of movement outside your door — the familiar, lanky figure you had longed to forget but could never fully erase. Spencer Reid stepped into the office with an air of confidence that was both endearing and devastating. He carried the weight of the world with him, a gravity that had always drawn you in. "Cause that's just the way life goes,

I push my luck, it shows

Thankful you don't send someone to kill me

I love you, I’m sorry”

The case went like any other BAU case you had worked. It made your bones ache, you had been trying to chase that high since you transferred. You knew the Terrorism division saw it in your eyes, that insatiable hunger that filled you – kept you coming back time and time again. But it was different now. The cases felt heavier, laden with a weight that pressed down on your soul. Every detail etched into your mind, the kind of grim knowledge that made your bones ache as you pursued the unrelenting darkness that had gripped the city. This was what you craved, the thrill of the chase, the unraveling of a mind that sought chaos. You had been trying to chase that high since you transferred to the Terrorism Division, but the hunger never dulled.

With each passing hour, the BAU and the Terrorism Division worked in tandem, two forces merging like storm clouds gathering on the horizon. You felt the energy in the air, crackling with anticipation as the investigation deepened. The BAU’s profilers brought their keen insight, peeling back layers of the unsub's psyche, while the Terrorism Division mobilized resources, a well-oiled machine ready to strike when the moment was right. Finally, the breakthrough came, like a flash of lightning illuminating the darkness. The confrontation was chaotic, it only caused that ache in you to grow – cavernous . You felt the adrenaline surge as you cornered the unsub, the very embodiment of terror that had taunted your city. In that moment, everything fell into place, your instincts honed by years of experience guiding you like an unseen hand. The darkness that had loomed over New York began to receded back into a scared man with an insatiable hunger to similar to yours.

“You were the best but you were the worst

As sick as it sounds, 

I loved you first 

I was a dick, it is what it is 

A habit to kick, the age-old curse 

I tend to laugh whenever I'm sad

 I stare at the crash, it actually works 

Making amends, this shit never ends 

I'm wrong again, wrong again”

With the case close – and some sort of normalcy being restored to New York, you thought it would be over. Stupid of you to assume you’d always have luck on your side, stupid of you to assume you could always run and never get caught. He echoed in your mind like a haunting melody, the bittersweet cadence of truth wrapping around you as you stood in your office – trying to hide your vulnerability. You had never been one to shy from your past, but admitting the complexity of your feelings for Spencer Reid was an entirely different battle “Agent [Last Name],” Spencer’s voice range in your head. “We need to talk.”

You could see it in his eyes — the need for clarity, the yearning for understanding. The connection you had felt was still there, but it had shifted into something more profound, more complicated. As the city began to awaken around you, you felt the walls you had built around your heart tremble, the desire to share everything threatening to spill out. “I know you left the BAU for a reason,” he continued, his tone earnest and probing, each word like a key turning in a lock. “I need to understand why. You can’t just walk away from that life without something driving you.”

The gravity of his words sank deep, resonating within you like the haunting echo of a bell tolling in a vast emptiness. He was right, You don’t just walk away from the BAU. Everyone in the BAU knows that what they do, it fuels them – it feeds their hunger. But you didn’t walk away, you ran. You ran to keep your truth hiddens miles away, you ran to keep your dignity as an agent. “Spencer,” you began, but the words caught in your throat, heavy with the weight of everything unspoken. “I didn’t want to complicate things. I didn’t want to drag you into my mess.”

Spencer’s proximity was intoxicating, It gave you a rush no cigarette ever could. You stared back at your reason from running, his eyes pouring into you with that insatiable hunger; However, he was hungry for knowledge, not your mess – not you. The space that had once felt so insurmountable began to shrink, the walls you had built around your heart trembling under the intensity of his gaze. “But I was already in it, wasn’t I?” he pressed, his voice low and earnest, a soft plea amidst the course of your emotions. “You thought I wouldn’t care? That I wouldn’t want to be there for you?”

You wanted laugh. Whatever reason he had given you for leaving was nothing compared to the real weight of the truth between them. That truth that surged like a tidal wave, threatening to pull you under. You felt the heat of his gaze, the concern etched on his features igniting a fire within you, one that had long been buried beneath layers of self-preservation. “Reid, it’s better this way.” The admission hung in the air, raw and trembling, a revelation that stripped you bare. “I’m where I really wanted to be, not just chasing the monster that fed off our fear.” You lied, like you always do.

“The way life goes

Joyriding down our road

Lay on the horn to prove that it haunts me

(I'm wrong again, wrong again)

I love you, I'm sorry” You wanted to laugh, a hollow sound that echoed in the depths of your chest. Whatever reason Spencer had given you for leaving the BAU was nothing compared to the real weight of the truth that loomed between you, a truth that surged like a tidal wave, threatening to pull you under. Each heartbeat reverberated with the fear of exposure, the vulnerability that came with revealing the emotions you had buried deep. You felt the heat of his gaze, the concern etched on his features igniting a fire within you—one that had long been smothered beneath layers of self-preservation and denial.

“Reid, it’s better this way,” you managed to say, your voice quivering as it fought against the storm brewing inside you. The admission hung in the air, raw and trembling, a revelation that stripped you bare of all pretenses. “I’m where I really wanted to be, not just chasing the monster that fed off our fear.” You lied, the words tasting bitter on your tongue, like poison that burned as it slid down your throat. 

In that moment, you saw the flicker of disbelief in his eyes, the way his brow furrowed as he processed your words. You could see the truth clawing at him, demanding to be acknowledged, yet you were caught in a web of your own making, tangled in a narrative that felt so much easier than facing the chaos of your heart. You wanted to scream, to tell him how much you had wanted to stay, how much the BAU had meant to you, and how much he meant to you, but the walls you had built felt insurmountable. 

“Is it really better?” he asked, his voice low and steady, cutting through the fog of your self-deceit. “Or are you just trying to convince yourself of that?” 

The intensity of his gaze pierced through your defenses, and you felt a pang of guilt twist in your stomach. “I’m safe here,” you replied, trying to mask the trembling uncertainty in your voice. “I don’t have to be part of the chaos anymore. I’m helping people in a different way.” Each word felt like a thin layer of armor, shielding you from the reality that clung to you like a shadow, a constant reminder of what you had given up.But even as you spoke, doubt gnawed at the edges of your resolve. You could see the truth reflected in his eyes, the way they searched yours for honesty, for clarity. You were lying to him and to yourself, hiding behind a façade of bravado while the real monster lurked in the shadows of your heart—your unyielding love for him. 

“Spencer, Whatever reason you thought I left for…It not what you think.”

With that admission, the dam you had built around your heart threatened to burst, emotions flooding to the surface. And as you stepped back, you saw the light in his eyes dim, the realization dawning that you were once again retreating into the safety of denial. You were leaving him behind, and deep down, you both knew this wasn’t just a choice about your careers; it was about the love that had once burned so brightly between you, a flame that had now been snuffed out by fear. 

As you turned away, the ache of unfulfilled potential tugged at your heart, the weight of your decision pressing down like an anchor, dragging you back into the depths of despair. You had chased that high, the thrill of the case, the adrenaline of the hunt, but now you were left with the hollow echo of what could have been. 

With each step you took away from him, you felt the freedom you had sought slip through your fingers, leaving behind only the shadows of a love unclaimed. You were born insatiable, nothing you could have would fill that hunger. The city around only stirred you. As you stood on the edge of broadway and worth, teetering between love and loss, you light a cig and took a long drag.

“I love you, I’m sorry”

[faetima]

𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭. .

. .your love had turned into ashes.

// tws ; slight cursing, blood ; gn reader ; modern au, hanahaki au, you n sunday are exes

the time of daylight in your day seemed shorter than everybody else’s—when their day was filled with sunlight, the sun had already set in yours, leaving nothing but twilight.

if you recalled your thoughts about him, even in the middle of the day, it would become night again.

there was no escape.

sunday’s words used to make your heart flutter, your neck heat up, your ears burn, your face break out into a grin.

now?

now those same words made you fucking furious. they made you want to kick and scream and cry and cry and cry. cry tears of anger of sadness of everything you had felt ever since he had left you.

it was winter. the temperature had cooled down outside, but the feelings between you both had only gotten hotter.

they had burned up. now only ashes of the darkest black remained.

ashes the same color as the roses you were coughing up now.

you dry-heaved, gagging up pitch black roses. the once sweet aroma they had carried, the aroma you had once loved, had now turned sickly. 

just smelling it made you want to hurl.

you coughed and coughed and coughed, black petals falling onto the floor. the stark contrast between the pure white of the tiles and the darkness of the roses made you dizzy.

no trace of sunday remained in your home. you had gotten rid of everything he had left—toothbrush, some random ass documents, pictures of him, everything. if your love had been a fire, only ash remained.

but, even if you had gotten rid of every memory of him, you still cried when you thought of him. 

your lungs and throat burned, begging for mercy. black roses—splattered with scarlet droplets—flopped onto the tiling, staining it with the same red they were coated with. the flowers shone underneath the blaring, almost fluorescent, lights of your house, slick with mucus and spit.

sobs wracked your body. your tears, salty and crystal clear, spilled onto the floor and the stupid roses, translucent drops of your misery.

of course, out of all people, you had to be in love with your fucking ex that had broken up with you.

fuck, you hated everything. you hated yourself you hated him you hated your feelings for him you hated how every single fucking time you looked out the window it was twilight you hated how—

another series of harsh coughs interrupted your thoughts, breaking you out of your daze.

it was supposed to be three in the afternoon, but, for you, the sun was setting and it was night again in your room.

—

you wanted to throw up.

sunday looked so pretty in all the photos you had taken of him. a gentle smile on his angelic face, his gray-blue hair a little messy but neat at the same time, his amber eyes soft with affection.

fuck, you wanted to go back in time.

you couldn’t even bring yourself to delete the photos you had of him on your phone.

god, you were pathetic. 

your love for each other had begun to crack, falling apart, so much so you were scared to touch the cracks in fear it would break more.

—

the once delicate adoration you had held for one another had faded away into bitter resentment, mixed with lingering feelings.

was there no pretty, happy ending?

—

you took shallow, shaky breaths, thorns piercing your lungs and digging into your throat as you spat out bitter black roses. your eyes burned with tears of pain and sadness, while your throat was raw from all the coughing.

you hurled another batch of the ugly fucking roses, barley able to breathe. black spots, the same color as the roses, danced in and out of your vision, making you dizzy. your room spun around you, and you clutched onto the floor with your trembling, frail hands.

it was harder to find him than all the stars in the sky. did he hide behind clouds? you couldn’t even see him in your dreams, let alone in your memories, now.

you couldn’t even see him in your future.

you gasped for air, eyes fluttering open and shut, lungs begging for mercy.

before you closed your eyes for the last time, you glanced out your window at the night and the emptiness left in it.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Matt Bors’s “Justice Warriors: Vote Harder”

On SEPTEMBER 24th, I'll be speaking IN PERSON at the BOSTON PUBLIC LIBRARY!

There's no political satirist working today quite like Matt "Mr Gotcha" Bors, whose 2023 masterpiece Justice Warriors just got a timely – and brutally funny – sequel, Justice Warriors: Vote Harder:

https://www.mattbors.com/store/p/justice-warriors-ffzgn

You've doubtless seen Matt Bors's work, which has repeatedly attained viral liftoff, most notably with his Mr Gotcha strips, easily one of the most useful additions to online political debate in internet history:

https://thenib.com/mister-gotcha/

Last year, Bors, along with Ben Clarkson and Felipe Sobreiro, published Justice Warriors, a postapocalyptic cyberpunk graphic novel in the vein of Warren Ellis's classic Transmetropolitan:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/22/libras-assemble/#the-uz

Justice Warriors is the tale of Bubble City, a domed enclave walled off from the teeming masses of the UZ (which stands for "Uninhabited Zone" – see what they did there?). Bubble City runs on vibes, therapy-speak, social media nonsense, memes and garbage hot-takes. And while there's a lot of broad satire here, the thing that makes Justice Warriors stand out is how its creators do the relatively straightforward futuristic exercise of asking themselves, "What if deeply unserious nonsense was taken seriously?"

Others have done this before – Mike Judge's Idiocracy, say – but Bors, Clarkson and Sobreiro attain a density of sight gags, trenchant wordplay, and outrageous cyberpunk imagery that is just next level. Think Al Jaffee meets William Gibson, with art direction by Vaughn Bode, who's had one too many at the Mos Eisley Cantina. To that, mix in all kinds of MAD Magazine style fake ads and social media postings, layering joke on gag, all of it walking the fine line between "you gotta cry" and "you gotta laugh."

Justice Warriors did big numbers, selling out three printings, and now the gang is back together for the sequel, Vote Harder, which drops just in time for the final, all consuming election-season media apocalypse.

Vote Harder sees Bubble City facing its first election in living memory, as the mayor – who inherited his position from his "powerful, strapping Papa" – loses a confidence vote by the city's trustees. They're upset with his plan to bankrupt the city in order to buy a laser powerful enough to carve his likeness into the sun as a viral stunt for the launch of his comeback album. The trustees are in no way mollified by the fact that he expects to make a lot of money selling special branded sunglasses that allow Bubble City (and the mutant hordes of the Uninhabited Zone) to safely look into the sun and see what their tax dollars bought.

So it's time for an election, and the two candidates are going hard: there's the incumbent Mayor Prince; there's his half-sister and ex-girlfriend, Stufina Vipix XII, and there's a dark-horse candidate Flauf Tanko, a mutant-tank cyborg that went rogue after a militant Home Owners Association disabled it and its owners abandoned it. Flauf-Tanko is determined to give the masses of the Uninhabited Zone the representation they've been denied for so long, despite the structural impediments to this (UZers need to complete a questionnaire, sub-forms, have three forms of ID, and present a rental contract, drivers license, work permit and breeding license. They also need to get their paperwork signed in person at a VERI-VOTE location, then wait 14 days to get their voter IDs by mail. Also, districts of 2 million or more mutants are allocated the equivalent of only 250,000 votes, but only if 51% of eligible voters show up to the polls; otherwise, their votes are parceled out to other candidates per the terms of the Undervoting and Apathy Allotment Act).

Despite the structural advantages afforded to Mayor Prince – like the fact that residents of District 12 on floors 120-145 of the Bubble each get 2048 votes, while District 1 (floors 1-7) only get a single vote – he's not taking any chances. Officer Schitt (a humanoid poop emoji) and the lovelorn Officer Swamp (an anthropomorphic catfish) are each prowling the Uz . Swamp – suffering from a head injury and gripped by a delusion that a TV cowboy has sent him to infiltrate the Flauf Tanko campaign – is playing spy/provocateur, while Schitt hunts dangerous subversives.

What unfolds is a funny, bitter, superb piece of political satire that could not be better timed.

The paperback edition of The Lost Cause, my nationally bestselling, hopeful solarpunk novel is out this month!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/11/uninhabited-zone/#eremption-season

[socialistmary]

Devil on my back; prologue

Pairing: Reader x Joel Miller

Warning: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI, implied smut & ✨actual✨ smut further down the line, age gap (Joel's in his 50s & Reader's in her late 20s), cheating, delicious catholic guilt, afab!reader, pet names (no use of Y/N), no outbreak!AU

Summary: Joel Miller vividly remembers the day you moved next door, a captivating vision of religious boundaries he can't wait to break

Word count: 1.6k

Author's Note: not sure yet what this series will look like, but this heathen needs to get it out before her innards explode 👁️👄👁️🌸✨

Joel remembers the day you moved in years ago, though the exact date escapes him. By this age, memories in his mind were more like a gallery of images and sensations brought forth by triggers of varying intensities, rather than words and numbers. He remembers the sweltering heat of the day, the smell of scorching sun and dry earth, the gritty feeling of dust settling on his sweat-soaked skin, all etched into his consciousness. That and Tommy’s complaining about how everything was just sticking together too much. It was downright miserable. 

The lemonade Sarah had brought out ten minutes ago already reached body temperature, ice inside succumbing too easily to the heat. Joel took a sip, pulled a face, and almost dropped the glass back down on the table. Mouth dry and eyes wandering, he watched mildly curious as a white “Jackson’s Moving and Delivering” van pulled into the driveway right across the street, shiny blue Toyota Corolla in tow. Joel looked at his own truck, red colour darkened by time and dust, wheels muddied after a particularly inconvenient thunderstorm last week. He hadn’t bothered giving it a wash - hell, he couldn’t even remember the last time it had an intentional wash. He furrowed his eyebrows and stared ahead waiting for people to pour out of the cars, vaguely aware of Tommy doing the same and Sarah coming out to have a look herself, eyes straining against the sun. Great, now everyone was curious, everyone's looking directly at them, and Joel knew they all looked like a gaggle of gossiping housewives. 

And there you were, first one out, hair pulled back in a high ponytail – a practical choice battling the Texas heat – dark sunglasses shielding your eyes, and a bright, dazzling million-dollar smile that had Joel squinting a little harder, as if to capture every little detail from afar. The others had yet to emerge from their cars, but you were already talking and waving your hands with enthusiasm, looking surprisingly thrilled to be in that little shithole of a suburb he’d moved into all those years ago. His ex-wife had insisted on the great schools in the area before fucking off to who-knows-where. 

Everyone kept watching as you gracefully maneuvered around the cars, captivated by your confident movement. You stopped in front of the door, no doubt searching for the keys to your new little home through that cute little jute bag. Joel couldn’t help but notice how delicate you seemed underneath the confident strides, entranced by your womanly curves, round ass, and the three-inch yellow heels you were prancing around in. He inhaled a sharp breath when he became awfully aware of his age.. and yours. ‘Just what I needed,’ he thought half amused.

Joel watched as you threw the blue Corolla a triumphant smile, wiggling a pair of house keys around with one hand and making a playful come-hither motion the other, sending a thrilling shiver down his spine, followed by a hard swallow. ‘Must be getting a heatstroke,’ he joked to himself and turned his attention to the cars, trying his best to get distracted. Jackson’s movers were already out of the van and hard at work distributing furniture, plants, and boxes across the lawn with practiced efficiency. The scene unfolded like a well-choreographed dance, Tommy and Sarah watched curiously, trying to make sense of the wrapped furniture and house goods. As they cranked their necks looking for questionable couch prints or weird-looking family heirlooms, like the creepy dead-eyed cat statuettes grandma used to have around the house, Sarah thought with a shudder, Joel’s focus kept drifting back to you. He watched discreetly as you chattered away with the movers, your charm and warmth unmistakable even from a distance.

The driver seat door of the Corolla opened to reveal a man your age, hair neatly cropped and face cleanly shaven, clothes looking soft and stiff at the same time, worn but with a like-new quality. He smiled a tight smile at you, clearly not feeling as comfortable as you looked. Hand on his hip, looking a little queasy, he surveyed the house behind dark sunglasses and made a lazy hand gesture for the keys. You walked to him with the keys, throwing a knees-weakening smile that seemed to have no effect on him, much to Joel’s surprise.

That’s when you turned around and noticed the Millers watching you from a few yards away. A hint of surprise flitted across your face, quickly fading into a bashful smile, Joel noticed, when Sarah gave you an enthusiastic wave. He tried to ignore the way his pants grew slightly tighter and his mouth a little dryer when he saw you bite into your bottom lip as you returned the wave. Even more so, he could swear he felt your burning stare on him behind your sunglasses, making his skin prickle in ways it hadn’t for a long time. Get it out of your head old man, he thought. Goddamn Texas heat.

“Hi, welcome, I’m Sarah!” Sarah greeted a little louder than she meant to, making you jump slightly and clasp your hands together in front of you as your smile grew wider. Joel easily noticed the way your cheek flushed to match a stunning set of pink rosy lips that will have him thinking pure filthy things later that evening. You’re jus’ a shy little thing, aren’t ya, he thinks to himself as you approach, keeping a respectful distance. Behind the dark sunglasses and that bright smile, behind the confident strides you take in those cute yellow heels, you’re just a little bundle of nerves, writhing in place with every bit of foreign attention. Realising this, Joel went to sit up a little straighter in his chair, remembering where he left his confidence. He's suddenly feeling a lot more at peace with his age than he did a second ago. He’s a fifty-year-old man, there’s literally no reason for him to feel intimidated by you. In fact, he wonders crossing his arms in front of his chest, maybe you should feel a little intimidated by him.

And you do; from this close, he feels like you do. Despite the sunglasses framing your face and hiding your eyes from view, Joel found himself keenly attuned to your nuances just by watching you across the road. Your mouth was a complete canvas of emotion, revealing your thoughts and feelings more than you probably realised. It was as if your lips were a window into your mind, just begging Joel to decipher their sweet, subtle cues, and right now, from this distance, they were telling him everything he needed to know.

Without the luxury of sunglasses to hide his eyes behind, Joel thought it wise to just make a point of meeting your gaze whenever he felt your eyes on him, allowing his own to wander down your form, looking at you up and down, taking in every detail, appreciating the way your body responded to his presence. A slow, lazy smile spread across his face. That’s it babygirl, he thought to himself as he watched you swallow, subtly wet your lips and nibble into the side of your lower lip, all within the span of 3 seconds. It all made him shift slightly in his seat, electric charge of desire coursing through the air.

In that fleeting instant, the world seemed to shrink, leaving only the two of you trapped in a bubble of heat and unspoken yearning, skin prickling and electricity buzzing in your ears. Or maybe it’s just heatstroke.

A mixture of nerves and desire washed over you as you tried to maintain your composure. For a moment, your mind went blank, unsure of what to say or why you even approached them, when you should've just - freakin' - waved. It felt as though you’d cave in from the intensity of his gaze. You struggled to keep your focus on Sarah and ignore the way his eyes on you made you feel so deliciously exposed and vulnerable. As you spoke, your voice naturally a little deeper, raspier than he expected, sent an icy-hot thrill down his spine and a satisfied groan only he could hear escaped his chest.

“Hiya,” you managed to greet with a smile and wave, one leg going behind the other, clasped hands moving to your back, your body instinctively shifting into a slightly more timid posture. You didn't seem like you went out much, or even talked to that many people, despite your big mouth. Joel could see you more clearly now and found these nervous gestures all too endearing. Taking all of you in, Joel’s eyes roamed over your body, over the sky-blue sundress hugging your figure, your sun kissed shoulders bared in the warm breeze, and he almost lets out another groan when he notices the outline of your white, good girl panties underneath, sight only intensifying the swirling desire he feels pooling low in his body.

Joel had to shake his head to get rid of the thoughts of you writhing underneath him, skirt of your dress hiked up past your hips, mouth slack and eyes rolling back into your head with pleasure, when he noticed Corolla guy coming over, looking slightly more at ease than earlier. From the gold wedding bands on your ring fingers, Joel immediately clocks Corolla guy as your husband. He felt confusing mixture of unwarranted jealousy painting his vision green and a stupid, childish thrill stirring inside him, both at the same time.

“This is Dax, my husband,” you introduced him with a radiant smile, clasping your husband’s hand in yours and looking at him like the Sun shined out of his ass. Seeing your obvious affection for your husband and that dainty little goddamn cross around your neck should’ve made Joel back down. And usually it would’ve, but this time it only somehow intensified the complexity of his emotions, made Joel really wonder what you're made of. His stupid desire for you was a little too consuming, tempting him, pushing him into territories that would've usually felt very un-Joel-like. “We just came down from Dallas,” you continue, and Joel can’t tell if you’re talking to all of them, or only to him. "Dax gets a little car sick and you won't catch me drivin'," What kinda name is "Dax" anyway??

[quinloki]

Burned

I had an idea and needed to get it out.

Sabo x gn!reader - angst, so much angst. OP Universe. there is no catharsis in this ending.

(I'm literally just writing this into a tumblr post in one solid go, so please excuse any major errors.)

Years after Marineford - the world is different. A New Pirate King rules the seas, the World Government is in tatters, the Revolutionary Army has swarmed over the islands and it's all different.

Sabo finds himself on an island in the West Blue. In the quiet hours of the morning something has always pulled him in this direction. He never had time to consider it or worry about it, but the pull is harder lately, more urgent.

Right now the sun is high in the sky and he walks through the peaceful town easily, following the direction of the tug. It almost feels like the pull is from the devil fruit that's a part of him. It's formless and desperate and insistent.

His feet bring him to the doorstep of a small brick home, a few kilometers outside the edge of the town proper. A few farm animals meander around, and there's a small garden wrapped around the back of the home. A line of laundry sways in the warm breeze of the day, and Sabo knocks on the door.

He has no idea what he'll say. He doesn't even know why he's here, only that something compels him.

There's a sound of something being dropped from the other side of the door and quiet gasp that finds his ears despite the impossibility of it. Fast foot steps rush toward the door and as it swings open bright eyes and a wide smile greet him.

"Ace you're aliv-!" The words die along the joy on your face, and a dark shadow falls over eyes that had been so beautiful just a moment ago. "F-forgive me, sir. I mistook you for the impossible."

"No it's," Sabo steadies himself. He feels near to tears, but he has some inkling why. "It's quite alright. I apologize, I was... well, I was compelled to come here, and I didn't know why."

"Are you a bounty hunter, sir?" You ask, a weak smile on your face.

"No. No, I'm... I'm a member of the Revolutionary Army." He admits.

"If you came here to recruit an ex-pirate, I can't help you." You say sourly. You look around and notice the young blonde is well and truly alone and on foot. "It's quite the walk from town to here, I can offer you a drink before you leave. The Revolutionary Army's done good by the people, I don't mind sparing a cup."

"That's... very kind of you. I would love a bit of tea, if you have it."

You step back and allow him inside. It takes everything Sabo has not to react. The simple home is well-cared for, but there's no real life in it. It's dark inside, most of the windows are drawn and shuttered, but it's clean, and the scent is... painfully familiar.

Everything is patches of orange and red, and there's a small collection of sketches on the table as he sits down that have a face that twists his heart.

"Pardon the mess." You say absently. "I've not had a guest since Kaido was defeated."

"It's quite alright..." Sabo says carefully. "I... I apologize, but I must ask you something."

"Fire- er, shoot, Army Man." You say, setting a kettle to boil on the small stove you had.

"Did you know Portgas D. Ace?" As the question leaves Sabo's lips he regrets it. The pain that twists your features twists his heart.

"... Forgive me." He says before you can answer.

"You knew him too." You say, nodding toward your sketches. "I lost my wanted poster of him a few months ago and have been trying to make sure I don't forget - ah, I mean. They're not making new posters of him, you know."

"He... he loved you, didn't he?" Sabo asks hesitantly. There's a tear slipping down his cheek and he can't reconcile the absolute pain in his heart. He doesn't even know your name, but he wants to comfort you somehow.

"I did. We did. It was..." You stop as the kettle starts to whistle and turn your attention to brewing the tea.

"I never knew I could love fire." You admit, as you set two cups on the table. Before the young army man can ask you pull the legs of your pants up and show him the burn scars. "I have some on my back too. I got them before I joined the Whitebeard crew. A decade or more before I ever even met him."

You force yourself to smile. You were well-practiced at this conversation, and you'd managed to get Marco to leave you alone not too long ago.

"He died protecting a dream, and that dream came true." You say, holding onto your smile. "I can take comfort in that."

The sad smile on the young man's face makes you feel like he understands. You both drink tea quietly for a few moments, but the longer he stays, the harder it is to keep your mask on. Something about him pulls at you, reaches for you, begs for you, and you're not sure what it is.

You also know that you don't want to know.

"Thank you," Sabo says, as he drains his cup. "For the tea."

"Of course, Army Man." You reply evenly.

Sabo gets up, stopping after he's only taken a step toward the door.

"I'd... like to return, if I may? I have much left to do, but it won't be for forever. I think I'd like to get to know you better."

You consider it for a moment and then shake your head. "No offense, Army Man, but I don't want to ever see you again." You look up from your tea cup, smiling despite the tears in your eyes.

"I've already been burned twice in this life."

[southerndragontamer]

Totality

Today was a day that happened once every hundred years, at least to this extent. Oh sure every few years the event happened on a smaller scale, but this one? Oh this time it was much bigger. The solar eclipse was a totality that would shroud the earth in complete darkness for nearly five minutes as of today.

At the highest point in New York City, standing on the roof in fact, Night watched the sky with a hunger that would’ve made any human that might have spotted him up here have their animal hindbrain go off and flee. He could feel the rising power in his blood and it made him feel almost drunk, his senses heightening further as the seconds passed. This moment, as small as it might seem to someone like him, was one he ached for every hundred years. And the time it lasted was ever so slowly growing longer but it felt like a torturous wait.

He was patient though, he’d had to be for all these eons. As he waited on pins and needles, as he watched the moon slowly inch closer to the path it was going to be on with eyes better than any mortal telescope….his mind for a moment drifted to Day. He felt an ache of sympathy, perhaps slight pity? For his ex wife, in the past these events had blinded her and he doubted it was any different in modern day. It wasn’t like he wanted her to suffer…no that wasn’t quite true. He did want her to hurt, to feel a drop of the agony he’d felt when she’d came into being and how her light had burned into him so deeply he had scars no matter what form he took, when she’d taken over as the main ‘time’ on earth. The one that got the praise and adulation and admiration from the mortals. When he was pushed aside and left with the drops of worship from the night owls, from the astronomers and those that found comfort in the darkness rather than the light.

All that said…he had loved her once so very long ago, even if their love hadn’t been healthy for either of them at the end of it. He knew he had been just as bad as she was as things had started to change, but he hadn’t crossed that line. He hadn’t once struck her, oh his words had hurt her yes and he knew that could be just as bad, but he wasn’t entirely a bastard. He didn’t wish her to keep hurting, he didn’t want her to stay in pain. He just wanted her to understand…so if he took a little vindictive pleasure in knowing she’d be blind for five minutes today…..well, then that was his secret to keep.

Night’s heart pounded just a little harder, a thrum of power ran through him as his breath caught. His eyes widened as he saw the moon begin to inch closer to the sun. Only a matter of seconds now not minutes. He could hear people whispering from here to in the reaches of the icy forests of Alaska and the near silent, curious breaths of animals in the jungle trees of the Amazon. It felt like every creature on earth with the sentience to understand something was happening was in the same way. Almost hypnotized as they looked skyward. As if the entire planet was on pins and needles for what was going to occur.

Ten.

Night felt dizzy as his nails sharpened into claws and he felt his teeth sharpen to the point they nicked his cheeks and he tasted the blackberry-cherry-dark chocolate-moonflower honey that was his own ichor before the wounds healed over a second later. He swayed lightly on his feet at the pulsating sensation in his blood as he began to smile.

Nine.

The land began to darken as the sky covered it in shadow, it was slow to human eyes but to his it was like throwing a blanket on a bed. The cascading curtain of black in the middle of the day. He grunted as his back arched and he felt body start to broaden from the influx of power, of a chance to escape the confines of his human form as much as he could. His body twisted and contorted as he felt more fangs sprout in his mouth. As another set of arms grew out of the space his ribs used to be.

Eight.

His mind was flooded with stimulation, it was like he’d been muted up until now. So much color bombarded his vision on the spectrum that humans couldn’t see, brilliant true blues, indigo, purple, red, colors that weren’t able to be processed completely and came across as an opalescent effect. He could hear the heartbeat of every creature on earth, some calm, some panicked and afraid, some excited with a faint rush of adrenaline.

Seven.

He couldn’t keep upright as he doubled over, all his hands and tendrils caught him, as shadows began to writhe and dance and shriek in a language only he understood, as they curled around him like a long lost lover and began to take a physical form. Serpents coiled around his shoulders, ravens and crows in the air with glowing white eyes, sleek black cats and hounds on the ground. There was a tail that curled around his ankles, the spikes like dorsal plates.

Six.

He felt his hearts pounding frantic in his chest as he ached to jump down, to go hunt, his instincts roared at him but he held himself back, not just yet. Not yet. Night needed to hold out just a few more seconds. It didn’t stop the way his claws all dug into metal and brick and mortar like it was tissue paper and imagined it was flesh and bone and meat instead. Patience, he reminded himself. Patience.

Five.

For the humans down below Night was sure this was like something out of a childhood nightmare, as daylight was blocked and everything just kept getting darker and darker. It felt like an apocalyptic event even if it was entirely natural. Like something divine to warn humanity to shape up, do better or this would be their fate. Everlasting darkness too much for even a flashlight to see by.

Four.

They were so small from his point of view as they scurried below to get to somewhere to look in safety through glasses because their eyes weren’t developed enough to handle the sight directly. He couldn’t help but find it pitiable in a way, but he was also filled with a bit of possessive glee because this meant it was his alone to enjoy. Not even the other Gods could take this time, see into his dark light without harming themselves.

Three.

Would they fall to their knees if they could see him in the midst of transformation? It wasn’t his true form, one more vast than the planet they existed on, he’d created the stars that they prayed to, brought the cosmos to its knees as he took back the light of the stars only to forge them anew when they were ready. He’d been here first, he was the one that would be here after Day’s light faded out. Would they call him God like they had in ancient times? Would they fear him, revere him, respect him, hate him or a mixture? He could almost taste the stardust in the air.

Two.

There were church bells ringing, doomsayers of faith trying to frighten their flocks into repentance, there were organs playing…rising crescendos of music that mixed with the howling and baying of dogs and wolves, cawing of corvids and hoots of owls, the roars of jungle cats and squeaking chirps of bats as they took flight. It was a symphony that Night reveled in, the animal kingdom was full of nocturnal and diurnal creatures and they were his, all his.

One.

Night couldn’t think as his eyes all bled black, as his pupil reflected the white and gold ring of flame that was barely visible of the suns former glory. His hair tumbled down his back and writhed like a living shadow, stardust glittered like a blanket of night sky. His face stretched with a too wide monstrous grin that showed rows and rows of sharpened fangs, talons took the place of his fingers, his expression purely born of hunger and adrenaline and pleasure that came from pure unadulterated freedom after what felt like eons of being chained up.

His laughter echoed in the still silence as he leapt down, as concrete and stone cratered under his feet, as spiked tendrils snaked along the ground to find their targets and snapped out to impale the unfortunate mortals that were marked as food. As the umbral serpents at his shoulders struck, fangs depressed deep into bodies to rip out hearts to devour whole. As stardust in blood and bone crystallized and calcified and severed feeble tendon and muscle, as he heard the cacophony of bodies hit the ground. He could taste everything in meat and bone and blood, in the stardust that made them up, adrenaline, memory, love, desire, fear, oh so much of it even if in only a split second of the body registering what happened. It was delicious.

The innocent weren’t in danger, their light kept him at bay even if it had been dulled by age or little guilts. His shadows passed through them like they weren’t even there, left an icy chill in their wake instead. But for those that had souls as dark as the sky was? They would not make it past these five glorious minutes that he had. It wasn’t anywhere near enough time to gorge himself like he craved but it would be enough to sate himself for a time.

This was his prophesied day, the world was enshrouded in darkness and shadow and nighttime, it was his….and Night was going to enjoy every single second of it while it lasted.

[devotedwrites]

Plot: Based off the show ‘The Bear’. James is a award winning chef despite his young age. After his brother untimely self inflicted death, he leaves his run down, inner city staple of a restaurant too James. In which James gives up the straight path to becoming a world class chef, and takes over the restaurant his brother left him. Where he’s now looking for a Sou chef to help him turn the place around.

Muse: James Valdez. (26, heterosexual, gives charismatic line cook energy, but hot headed when things aren’t going his way. With a sprinkle of that family Trauma.)

Connections: Sou Chef applicant, close friend, ex girlfriend (if you wanna go crazy, and make something work), Customer, really anything you want. Romantic only F. Open to platonic.

@indiestarter

James Valdez, you’d see him on Top 100 newest chefs articles, and was really beginning to make a name for himself. That was before his brother unfortunate death, and left James a shit hole of a restaurant in his name. Where James dropped the fast track of becoming a world renown chef, and took over the restaurant that ate money more than it has ever made.

The stress that came taking over this dump, and trying to find Sou Chef that actually wanted to change this place around with him for well barely any money in return. Was reasonably a disaster.

Stepping out the back down, shoving the door back a bit harder than he had intended as he stepped into the alley after trying to get the staff to clean the kitchen. He let out a heavy sigh, running his calloused hands down his face, before he patted down in his jeans pocket, and pulling out a pack of cigarettes along with his trusty green lighter. One he was superstitious about ever letting anyone touch or use. Flickering the gear about once or twice. Before lighting it up, and taking a drag off of it. The exhale almost sounded like a sigh of relief, feeling it burn the back of his throat.

His dark brown eyes wandered through the alley, before they narrowed making out a figure that he couldn’t make out from the blinding sun.

“Hey!” His voice raised with his New York accent prominent. “Restaurant is closed for the day.” He’d been taking this one day at time. As today was about having the kitchen to standards, and getting it cleaned. Plus ‘interviews’ for a Sou Chef if he could ever find one for this dump. “it’ll be open tomorrow.” The last part was muttered as the cigarette was between his lips once again.

[taurusupremacist]

Astro Notes #2

Welcome back everyone ! I’m sorry for not posting a lot but I have new tea for you. Also, my two next posts will be more like a crossover of astrology and Pop culture (two things I love) and don’t hesitate asking me any question I’d love to interact with people. ❤️

Gemini/3H moons are so unintentionally funny. There’s something about the way they tell stories and say the most out of pocket stuff that make people laugh. Usually, they have a specific vocabulary that people tend to repeat as a reference/private joke because they think it’s hilarious. They are walking memes.

Saturnian dominants (esp. Capricorn/Aquarius moons) are so sarcastic. Their jokes are so dry and they have the ability to say the funniest stories with a straight face while dropping a few scathing expressions by using intellectual terms. If they sound mean, then It was their intent because they think it’s the best way to convey their message. Especially if the person has an Air Mars.

Cancer women with a Scorpio Rising look great when they adopt a dark feminine persona when it comes with the way they dress. (Ex : Lana Del Rey)

Talking about personal style and astrology, I think someone would look great if they mix their Sun (personality, the self), their Ascendant (appearance) and their Venus Sign (taste, textures, fashion).

Ex : Zendaya has a Virgo Sun (her looks always manages to look perfect in her to the details and gives BOSS vibes), Aquarius rising (every red carpet is a moment. Always wears something unexpected, especially with her hairstyles) and Cancer Venus (Etheral and feminine style).

Neighbors signs compatibility is so overlooked. I usually see people saying Gemini and Taurus aren’t compatibles but many Geminis have Taurus placements and vice-versa. Same goes with every neighbor sign pairs. Aspects and where your placements fall in their houses are more important.

Romcoms give off very much Mutable Venus energy to me. I will probably elaborate more for each sign-a trope in an other post.

Asteroid Fama conjnct any placement in your 3H, you were likely to be popular at school or at least friends with some of them.

Lilith in the same sign as your venus you are more likely to be catcalled by random men on a daily basis and more sexualized than others by your own family.

Earth Lilith + earth Venus = people in your entourage have a hard time imagining you in a relationship because you’re seen as untamable.

Sun conjunct Moon in a friendship synastry is so cool. Best placement for long night conversations. Both of the parties understand each other and the friendship between these two is usually instantaneous.

Mars/ASC aspects = being seen as reckless, rebellious and the one who has to take the blame for other people’s faults because they look « more mature » and « tougher » even if the person has a quiet nature.

Pluto in the 2nd House and the urge to save money because of the fear of being in financial insecurity again but spending it in a short amount of time by saying « you know what F* It I’ll figure it out tomorrow ».

I’ve never seen a stylish Libra. No offense but the ones I’ve met only go for trendy stuffs. Same for their approach of life, they won’t wear clothes that can go against their charming and sociable image. They follow the trends but it still looks good on them.

Mercury rx people usually get gaslighted when they argue with Aries placements because they have a big confidence in what they say and make Mercury rx people doubt because they know they have a harder time expressing an very articulate thought and use that as an excuse to win an argument.

[sukirichi]

Breakfast for Choso with ingredients #17 and 34 with #2 sugar? Wine is optional.

EASY 

— Nothing is ever easy with Choso, but for him, you’d push through hell and back.

meal order: breakfast + 17, 34 (fake dating, rentboy au) + 2 (enemies to lovers) + biting, scratching, choso eating reader out, sex on the beach

warnings: mature content, unedited fic, choso is mean and harsh when he’s angry

notes: thank you so much for this anon! I really enjoyed writing this and this totally made my day. I hope you like it!

word count: 10k+ LOL CHOSO BRAIN ROT

check out the fanart @tigressnej-chan made, it s so beautiful HURRR

Your day was absolutely ruined. Dark, deep bags covered your under eyes as you stormed through the convenience store downstairs your apartment, body clad in an oversized hoodie and socks visible through slippers, hair greasy and lips chapped. You’re aware you look like a mess, but did you care?

Absolutely not, especially when you haven’t been sleeping well the moment you moved into this cursed apartment because of a certain fucker.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. That specific fucker – the cause of your ruin and the devil who prevented you from living a good life – waltzed inside the store, the small bell chiming to signal his presence. You scoffed at his confident, suave walk, further irritated because he just had to be insanely attractive – in an alternative, laid-back kind of way.

He wasn’t even your type; you preferred more refined men who wore pressed suits and leather shoes, but you had to admit this man was insanely attractive.

With deep, sunken eyes, a dark tattoo across the bridge of his nose and dark hair twisted into twin ponytails, large, muscular body covered in a black sweatshirt and a red scarf – he looked very much like a former member of a gang who retired because their barbaric ways wasn’t his thing. It was an odd theory, and you sat there at the corner of the store, glaring at the man who tiredly pressed the coffee maker machine for a dark roast.

As if feeling eyes on him, his lazy eyes slid over to yours, and almost automatically, one corner of his lips tilted up in humor. This fucker knew how much he annoyed you, and he only further pushed your buttons by walking over to you, the steam of his coffee nearly blocking your gaze.

“Good morning,” he greeted sarcastically, well aware that it definitely not a good morning for you.

“Have fun last night, neighbor?”

“Yes.”

“Jeez, you won’t even bother denying it?”

“I see no point in it,” he invited himself by sitting next to you, long legs crossed over his muscular thigh. You found yourself staring at how he seemed so firm even in loose sweatpants, averting your gaze and staring at your soggy ramen noodle cup instead.  “And you’re not trying to hide the fact you’re listening, either.”

“I wasn’t listening!” you slammed your fist down the table – he didn’t even flinch, only continuing to sip his coffee as if you weren’t burning in anger beside him – as you hissed, “The walls are too damn thin and you’re so fucking loud.”

“No, I wasn’t. She was loud, though.”

Scoffing, you crossed your arms against your chest. He really was shameless. You already knew this man didn’t have enough shame in his body, but you didn’t think he’d have absolutely nothing.

Upon witnessing your stupefied state, he reached over to knock at your skull. “Still there, princess?” you cringed at his nickname for you; you didn’t even know this guy’s name, for pete’s sake! “Or are you still too bothered by the fact I got some good fucking last night?”

You flicked his arm away from you, nearly seething in your seat. “God, you’re insufferable. I should move out.”

“Yes, I think that would be for the best too,” he nodded to himself as he stared at his now empty coffee cup. Had it been that long already? Apparently, it was, because your noodles turned cold and your neighbor was already leaving your seat, dipping for a mocking bow. “Have a nice day, neighbor. Don’t think of my cock too much,” he teased, even going as far as winking until your jaw dropped.

You watched as he threw the paper cup in the proper bin, a little surprised he was decent enough to do mundane tasks like that. Sometimes, it was so easy to forget your neighbor was also a decent human being, but whatever.

You absolutely, utterly hated him, and you kept mumbling to yourself of the different ways you’d get your revenge on him as he walked out the door, his annoyingly gorgeous ass in view. “Yeah, right,” you scowled to yourself, “As if I can get that image out my mind now.”

He would not be an easy feat.

Despite your constant pleas for him to at least be silent during the weekdays to give you enough peace of mind to study for the finals, he didn’t stop. Hours just after the sun sets, you’d hear giggles and sloppy kisses on the hallway.

No matter how much you pressed your hands into your ears and set your music on full volume to block out the noise, you could always hear them.

Your neighbor was undeniably a fuckboy. 

Every night, he’d have a different girl dangling in his arms. You knew, because the voices squealing his name while he fucked them right next door were always different. Some days, it was deep and throaty, and on other days it’d be high-pitched and nearly scraping at your ears. They all said the same thing though, such as fuck, right there, you feel so good or harder, harder, please, I’m so close!

To say you were traumatized was an understatement. You never wanted to hear such things again, but alas, your neighbor apparently couldn’t give a single shit because he was fucking someone again.

As if things couldn’t get worse, the person he brought home this time around just had to have the most fucking annoying voice ever. Or maybe it sounded like the others, but you were in the middle of memorizing veins and brain chemicals in alphabetical harder when you heard the headboard of his bed slam against your wall, the sound hard and loud enough you dropped your book in surprise.

They didn’t stop. If anything, he kept going harder until nothing but his low sexy groans and his partner’s screaming – that was right, she was fucking screaming – like she was having her insides rearranged.

You didn’t doubt the possibility that maybe she really was. Your neighbor was such a huge, attractive guy, after all, it would make sense he was capable of such. Before you knew it, you could no longer understand the words in your textbook. You kept rereading the same line over and over again, but nothing registered into your mind. You were so close to screaming at them to stop and shut the fuck up because it was three in the morning and they were still going at it, but you weren’t that mean.

Yes, you hated him, but you weren’t going to blue ball someone or make sex awkward. Sex with your ex was always awkward, so you knew how painful it was to live with that memory. No matter how much you hated your neighbor, you wouldn’t go that far.

So you trudged all the way up to the building’s public balcony, bringing a blanket with you to survive the chilly bite of the night.

You used your phone’s flashlight to read all over the textbooks, keeping your little note cards organized and color coded beside you. Finally, you could make sense of things a little bit more, and you chugged at your Red Bull to keep you awake. Time passed by so fast whenever you were lost with your nose stuck in a book, and your attention was only ripped away when the balcony door swung open, revealing your neighbor with messed up hair and bruised lips.

He looked totally fucked out.

“Oh, fuck, no – what are you doing here?”

“This balcony is for all tenants,” your neighbor barely blinked as he walked closer to you, but instead of joining you on the table, he leaned against the railings and stared into the night sky. He seemed so placid, a little approachable despite his intimidating face even, and for a moment, you were studying his sharp, masculine features before he turned your way with a passive face. “Last time I checked, I’m a tenant, therefore I have the rights to be here.”

“I don’t care,” you retorted childishly, pulling your books closer to you as if he wanted to steal it. He only raised a brow at your actions, the large muscles of his arms bulging up from where he stood.

It felt so hard to not salivate at the sight, but for the sake of your pride, you had to push those thoughts down and remind yourself why you hated him so much. “I evoke your rights. You’re not welcome here.”

“You’re awfully harsh to a stranger.”

“You’re not a stranger, you’re my neighbor who brings girls in his home every night and I can never get a wink of sleep because all I can hear is them moaning and the sound of balls slapping!”

“Vulgar,” he smirked, and he had no business looking so attractive with that arrogant smirk on his face that it took all energy you had in you to not whack him with your book.

“I think I deserve an apology.”

“I think you should mind your business.”

You stood up with a scowl, nearly shoving the book right in his chest. “Bro, I’m this close to slapping this book right in your pretty face. You see how thick this is? I’m not kidding, this will hurt. Listen, I’ve got a final exam and a suture practice this weekend. All I’m asking for is just a few hours of sleep – that’s all. I just don’t get why you always seem to be balls deep in someone at every god forsaken hour; I can’t focus on my work when the noises are so distracting. At this point, I remember their begging more than I’m familiar with nerves. I need to study, okay? I really want to graduate.”

He fell silent at your sudden rant, then, he tilted his head to the side, a small smile on his lips. “You think I have a pretty face?”

“After everything I said, that’s all you remember?”

“It’s kind of hard to listen to every word when I’m distracted by your eyes.”

His comment caught you off-guard, and your eyes widened, arm coming up to hide your face that soon began to felt warm. He only chuckled at your reaction, the sound deep and throaty that it went right straight into the pools of your belly. “My eyes – what are you talking about? Seriously, what’s wrong with you? You’re so creepy!”

“Hmm,” he snickered, “That’s the first time I’ve heard that.”

“What, no one tells you you’re creepy?”

“No, people always say I’m handsome,” he said it with such a straight face that you gave him an are you serious look, and he raised one shoulder to shrug. “I’m surprised you’re not attracted to me, to be honest.”

“Wow,” you drawled out, shaking your head with a laugh as you plopped down back to your seat in defeat. “Aren’t you full of surprises? First, I get a really horny man as my next door neighbor who keeps me up at night with his shenanigans, and now he’s got the audacity to ask me why I’m not attracted to him?”

“I mean,” he scrunched his nose cutely, a huge contrast to his domineering stature. “Why aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I give up. I’m just gonna crash at my friends tonight,” you mumbled to yourself while gathering your things, leaving your neighbor all by himself. As you reached the door, you called out to him one more time, “Oh, and by the way, you reek of pussy. Go shower or something.”

“So how’s your exams going?”

“They’re fine,” you lied through gritted teeth, slicing through the fish a lot harsher than you intended. The knife scraped against the plate and you winced at the sound, ignoring your father’s loud munching. “Not too much of a big deal. My professors are nice and my classmates are nice too. I’m fitting in really well and I think I’ll even come out on top of my class this time if it weren’t for that stupid little bastard…” your last words ended up as a whisper, eyes glazing to the side as you glared at nothing in particular.

“Stupid little what?”

“Nothing, nothing,” you waved your hand in the air, “Someone’s just distracting me from my studies, is all.”

At the mention of someone distracting your usually composed and unbothered self, your father straightened up in his seat, a large smile on his face that made him look younger than he really was. “Is it a guy? Do you finally have a boyfriend?”

“Ugh, dad, really, you’re the only father who’s so eager for his daughter to have a boyfriend. Shouldn’t you be more proud that, I don’t know, I’m pretty and smart? I don’t need a boyfriend or anything.”

Your father nodded, “True, you don’t need them, but trust me when I say life is going to get pretty lonely when you grow old and you’re all by yourself. It’s still better – and life is a lot happier – when you’ve got a stable supporting and loving figure in your life.”

“I have you for that.”

“And you always will,” he patted your hand gently across the table, “But a parent won’t always be there for their child, and if you’re still not prepared for the future or ready to stand on your own two feet, then that means I didn’t do a great job at raising you; that means I’ve failed as a parent. Tell me, have I failed? Have I raised my wonderful daughter to be so repulsed by the idea of love that she’s willingly closing her doors and locking herself away in isolation?”

“No…”

“I didn’t think so,” he grinned to himself, and you watched with a frown as his eyes crinkled in happiness. Your father was such the complete opposite of you; he was always so loving and open to everyone, while you were mopey and afraid of attachment.

“Don’t be too afraid to love, child. It’s one of the most wonderful things in this world – it’s a blessing – the absolute core of our being. Why do we exist if not to love?”

“Not everyone is a romantic like you, dad,” you sighed, “Plus…how is it so easy for you to finally find someone after Mom died? Isn’t she your soul mate?” you questioned, putting your fork and knife down as you looked your father in the eye. “I just can’t believe you’re getting married again.”

“It’s already been years since she passed away, Y/N. And yes, she is my soul mate, but that doesn’t mean I’m incapable of loving someone again. Our hearts aren’t limited like that, and your mother wouldn’t want me to keep mourning her when she’s resting in peace,” he gestured to the both of you after swallowing his food, “She would’ve wanted the both of us to be happy.”

At the mention of your passed mother, your shoulders deflated, and your eyes watered at the thought of her kind smile. You wished you could see that again.

“I miss her…”

“I know, child, I know,” your father smiled encouragingly, “I also know the reason you’re so afraid to love is because you’re scared they’ll end up leaving you too, like how your mom just slipped past our fingers like that, but it’s only her body that withered. She’s still with us, right in our hearts and in our memories.”

“You really do sound like a lovesick fool.”

“That’s because I am,” your father laughed with a slap to his knees. When his phone buzzed for his alarm, he quickly dabbed a towel on his lips, standing up to excuse himself. “Now, this lunch was lovely and I dearly missed you, but I need to go back to work. We doctors just never get a break. This is a life you have to prepare for if you want to follow my footsteps.”

“I won’t follow your footsteps – I’ll surpass you.”

“I’ll be waiting for that to happen then,” he announced proudly; pride bursting in his chest at how determined his daughter was. “Oh, and Y/N?”

“Yes?” You squinted at the mischievous look in his eyes, wary of what your cunning father had in mind this time.

“You won’t outsmart me. You better bring a boyfriend or at least introduce someone to me on the wedding – or else I’m pulling you out of the university hospital.”

“Wha – Dad, that’s not fair!”

“All is fair in love and war, child, you’ll learn soon.”

“Oh, I just hate men!”

You really did hate men.

Your final exam was tomorrow already and you’d lost count of the coffee and Red Bull you’ve inhaled today, all so you could study one last time for the test, but no, something – or rather someone – just had to get in your way.

“I’ve had enough,” you announced before slamming your door open; not hesitating as your fists came banging down on your neighbor’s door. “Hey! Keep it the fuck down – someone’s trying to study here! Seriously, man, is it really that hard for you to keep it in your pants for one night? This is what, the sixth woman you’ve had around the past four days? Don’t you get tired? Because I sure as hell am very tired of you!”

The moans and the sounds of bed creaking stopped. For a moment, you almost smirked to yourself when they fell silent.

If only you knew it would be that easy to shut them up, you would’ve done so long ago. You were about to turn back into your room when his door swung open, and you were met by his sweaty and muscular chest heaving up and down – either in anger or from his previous activities – you couldn’t tell.

Your throat felt dry as you peered at him under your lashes, almost afraid of the way he loomed over you. Thank goodness he found the time to wear pants, though, because had he been baby naked, you would’ve run for the hills already.

His dark eyes cut through yours as he seethed, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m the one who wants to ask you that,” you were surprised to find your voice despite the way your pussy actually ached just by the sight of his chiseled body, but when you did, you forced yourself to stand up taller, refusing to back down from his gaze. “It’s literally three in the morning and you’re about to fuck a hole through my wall!”

“I thought you said you’d be crashing at your friends. What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know I had to have your permission to come back home. Next time, I’ll give you a heads-up, good sir. And for your information, unlike you, I actually don’t like bothering the people around me so I came home. Now would you please kick her out and shut the fuck up for once?”

“Babe, are you coming back here or what?”

Red acrylic nails wound from his body out of nowhere, and your mouth fell open as you watched the naked woman press kisses on the blades of his shoulder. You were conflicted, torn between feeling jealous that she got to touch him like that because damn was he fine, but you also felt appalled your neighbor would be this type of person.

“Babe?” you repeated with a sarcastic laugh.

Stepping away from your neighbor’s tempting pecs, you waved to the stunning woman behind him. “Hi, I’m his neighbor, I don’t mean to be a cock block or anything but I’ve been a witness to his fuckboy ways for months now. If you think you’re special to him, I assure you, you’re not. Yesterday he was just banging two girls until the sunrise. If you’re really as sane as I hope you are, I suggest you skedaddle before this man feeds you with more lies. You’re not special, hun, he’s just going to fuck everything that walks on two legs.”

“Is that true?”

“Nadia, you know how this works—”

“I was literally just on the phone with you last night!” the woman named Nadia pushed him away, but because he was bigger, he didn’t budge. Nadia turned to you, her lipstick smudged and a suspicious white stain on the edge of her lips. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look down her head, and you and your neighbor both watched as she got dressed and left, hands up in the air. “Thank you for this. I should’ve known better than to waste time and money on him.”

You snickered as Nadia pressed on the elevator buttons, a scowl sent his way. Turning to him with pride swelling up in your chest, you smirked, “How does it feel—”

“Happy now?” he growled, his eyes so dark and slit into tiny cuts you took a step back, your heart pumping frantically for different reasons. You never thought he’d be this bothered for not being able to bust a nut. “Satisfied now, Y/N? Do you even realize what you’ve just done?”

“Uhm, yes,” you scoffed, matching his tone. “I just saved that poor girl’s life. Who else knows what you would’ve done and said to her. We don’t deserve to be looked down on and treated like this, you know.”

“Neither did I. I’m just doing my job.”

“Job? You don’t even have a job! You don’t even go to university for fuck’s sake – your apartment is rundown and smells like sour cunt and feet! Maybe you should even thank me because I’m trying to give you ideas on better things to do!”

“Yeah, and be like you?” he snapped, tugging at the strings of your hoodie until you fell a step forward. “Dressed in loose shirts to hide the fact you’ve got no tits and your ass is flatter than your back? Lying to her neighbor that she’ll crash somewhere but ends up waddling back home anyway because she’s always cooped up in her apartment studying to prove that she’s not as worthless as she is and that she doesn’t have a life or friends to begin with?” tears pooled at your eyes at his words, and you knew it hurt because it was true, but did he really have to say it that way?

However, his anger got the best of him, and he didn’t stop there. “I don’t want to be like you. I don’t want to skip meals and lose sleep studying for something I don’t care about because I don’t know anything else other than following daddy’s footsteps so he’d notice me more than his new bride. I’m happy with my life.”

“How did—”

“Like you said, the walls are thin. You’re not exactly so quiet to yourself, neighbor. It’s kind of pathetic you talk to the walls when you think I’m asleep because you’ve got no one else to talk to.”

Hands balled into fists at your side, you stood on your tiptoes to spit the words out. “You’re a terrible human being,” no matter how much you tried to exert dominance over him, your lips still quivered as you fought back the urge to cry. “Go fuck yourself.”

“You’re the one who needs to go fuck yourself and get laid,” he didn’t let you have another word as he slammed the door in your face, but you still heard him through the door anyway. “Uptight bitch.”

You were wrong.

Your neighbor wasn’t just difficult – he was completely impossible.

[Dad:] Don’t forget your date!

[You:] Dad…don’t push it.

[Dad:] I find it hard to believe my beautiful daughter can’t have one. Go out there and make some friends, Y/N, I know you isolate yourself too much. It doesn’t even have to be a boyfriend. You could date a girl for all I care. I just don’t want you to be too bored at the wedding. Bring a friend.

[You:] Fine, fine, okay.

[Dad:] But a boyfriend would still be better. Your old man isn’t getting any younger and I want grandkids in the future.

[You:] Dad!

[Dad:] love ya kid !

And so it was the turn of your events that had you groaning in your swiveling chair, the grip on your phone so tight you wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up breaking it. As if your week couldn’t get any more horrible with your neighbor’s hurtful words still living at the back of your mind, your father hadn’t stopped talking about you to his co-workers and his equally crazy mother that your grandmother didn’t waste time in calling you.

You loved your nan, you really did, but more often than not, she was much more of a pain in the ass than your father was. The old woman was ruthless, shooting you question by question on why her pretty granddaughter was still single, then came the demeaning comments of how you “weren’t living life to the fullest.”

Frustration eating away at you, you let out a silent scream.

The escort site blinked back at you mockingly, temptingly, as if to remind you that your problems could easily be solved with just a click. You chastised yourself for always having the need to solve problems fast and as easily as you could, because before you even realized what you were doing, your heart started beating a mile a minute as the other line kept ringing.

You ended up lying to your grandmother that yes, nan, I have a boyfriend, can I study for my exams now please, to which the pressing woman responded with, oh, finally! well, I won’t bother you anymore. study well, my dear, I can’t wait to see him!

Just thinking about how she would react if you came alone at your father’s wedding had you breaking out in a sweat, and you chewed at your nails while waiting for the site to pick up.

You were truly desperate now, so much so that you were actually calling a rental boy site.

“Good afternoon, thank you for calling Kamo Escorts! I’m Ijichi, here to assist you. What can I help you with?”

You held back a really painful cringe, biting the insides of your cheek as you got your heart to calm down. “Uhm, yeah…so this is like my first time c-calling a site like this and I don’t know what to do but…yeah.”

“I see, we get new callers too. Would you like a guide?”

“Yes, please, that’d be great thank you.”

“Kamo Escorts is all about, well, as you can see on our webpage – we have men and even women you can hire to escort you on special events. We mostly cater to clients who only need a pretty face to dangle off their arm for social company or even care, or whatever reasons the client may have and the relationship is purely business and professional, but in some cases, the escorts may have sex with the client too under the condition they are paid more.”

The gasp that left your lips was barely stifled, and you furrowed your brows at the implication. “Wh-what, so that’s like a real thing? Isn’t this…?”

Ijichi chuckled from the other line, almost as if he’d been asked this question many times before. “In a way, it is, which is why Kamo Escorts is commercially advertised for purely social company only. You may, however, negotiate with your escort if you would like more services, but we do require that you keep our escorts’ dignity and not look down on them. The service we provide may not be your typical honorable one, but we are dedicated and equally eager to be of service to this society. Should we find that you’re dehumanizing or harassing our escort, we won’t hesitate to…take some action,” the light warning of his tone didn’t go unnoticed by you, and Ijichi took note of your hesitant silence. “Would you still like to proceed?”

“Ye-yeah, I didn’t want the sex anyway.”

“Very well, then. What event are we looking for?”

“It’s for a relative’s wedding,” you supplied, “I need a date.”

“Any preference in escorts? Male, female, tall, short, sociable or introverted?”

Your eyes widened, your back flattening against your chair. “Oh, wow, so this is like a Build-A-Bear, okay, wait,” you chewed your nails again, racking up on your mind on who or what exactly you liked. “My ideal guy is…someone tall, and has pretty broad shoulders…I think I prefer a more introverted one too because people with too much energy sort of drains me…and someone caring and attentive, yes. Handsome too – but if that’s too much to ask for then—”

“It’s okay, Miss. I assure you all our escorts are definitely blessed in the gene department.”

At his confidence, you scrunched your nose and made yourself small on your chair. “Okay, but now that you say it, if he’s too handsome then I’m going to look like a potato next to him.”

“We’ll find someone compatible for you; we always never fail to please our clients. We’ll be able to match you with a more suitable escort if you’re more descriptive with what you want.”

“Okay, okay,” you continued, “Oh, and I like guys with long hair too, but really, anything is fine. I just want someone to effortlessly pretend they’re enamored after just one date and that they’re very glad to be there with me on the wedding. It’s even better if they’re introverted but can communicate well and isn’t shy at all. My relatives are kind of…freaky.”

Freaky couldn’t even begin to describe the chaos of your relatives.

In fact, had you not been paying for this service, you would’ve almost felt bad for the guy. He had no idea what he had coming for him – but then again, neither did you.

“I think we’ve got just the perfect guy for you,” Ijichi answered after a beat, “May I ask when is this event and how long you’d like to book the escort service for?”

“The event is in two weeks. I don’t need to meet him before the wedding because I’m very busy with exams, so I hope this guy can just act really well. As for the duration…I think just one day is enough. After the wedding, I’m coming right back home.”

“Convenient then,” he mused to himself, and you heard slight clicking from his side. “Let’s see…someone introverted and able to communicate well…definitely not Satoru, and his entirely booked by sugar mommies too…” Ijichi whispered to himself, followed by a slight humorous snort. “One last question: would you like someone older, younger, or the same age as you?”

“I’m in uni – I’d be more comfortable if they were closer to my age.”

“Oh, perfect, his schedule is oddly open for the whole month. Wonder what happened, he’s barely had free slots before…” the man was speaking to himself again, and you sat there pouting, even more dumbfounded at how this whole process worked.

Ijichi talked about this escort service and guided you so easily you almost couldn’t believe that it was as…simple as that. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but deep down in your mind, you were waiting for something fishy or weird to happen.

“I found someone for you. He’s one of our best escorts and I believe he’ll be great for this event. However, due to privacy issues, the disclosure of contacts and personal information can only happen once the escort agrees to this service. We’ll shortly get back to you if he’s up for the job. If not, I’ll find you another one quickly; you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Okay, thank you so much!”

“It’s our pleasure. Thank you for contacting Kamo Escorts – we hope to see you again!”

Once the call ended, you fell back on your bed with a sigh. Your neighbor wasn’t around the whole day, leaving you in peace and silence, and you took advantage of the rare quietness by pulling out a book. Hours passed, and you were nearly finished with half the textbook, fingers slightly numb from practicing sutures over and over again when your phone lit up with a text.

It came from an unknown number, but the words were loud and clear. Hey, this is Choso, I’ll be your escort for the wedding. Please text me here for the details and what else you expect from my service. I’m only a text and call away, please don’t hesitate to ask me for anything else.

You blinked at your phone, unsure of how to process the whole thing.

So it was official now – you rented an escort and you had a date for the event. Quite frankly, you were kind of expecting that escorts would be a lot more…flirtatious or even eager to please, but this Choso guy sounded too formal for you to picture yourself having this stranger be a good company for your event. Ijichi sounded so sure though that you no longer questioned it; smiling instead now that you’ve finally solved one of your problems.

Life felt a lot easier.

At around four in the morning, you were too worn out to keep going. Your exam was in the afternoon so you still had plenty of time to sleep, your stomach grumbled, prompting you to leave your unit to get some snacks.

Keys in hand and feet cold in your socks, you locked your door, halting in your steps when you saw your neighbor. Different from his usual comfortable clothing, he was dressed in a formal white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his large, masculine hands coming up to loosen his tie. He wasn’t aware of your presence, almost blindly walking to his door and sighing. You didn’t miss the fact his shoulders were slumped, and he looked absolutely worn out.

For a moment, you actually felt worried, until you remembered what he said to you.

“What, no pussy to fuck tonight?”

He froze in front of his door for a moment, slightly tilting back to see your aggravated stance. Upon seeing it was just you, he shook his head and turned back to unlock his door. “No thanks to you.”

“Aw, did I ruin your reputation?” you mocked sarcastically, “I’m surprised people aren’t smart enough to pick up the smell of women’s perfume on you already. Seriously, are people that desperate for touch?” It was ironic; you’d never admit it, but you weren’t any better than them. You were equally desperate to be touched despite your aversion to romantic relationships, but he didn’t need to know that.

“It’s normal when you’re someone people are naturally attracted to. Not that you’d get it, of course, because it’s clear you don’t get some.”

“At least my apartment doesn’t smell like pussy.”

“At least I don’t masturbate every night then pass out after one weak orgasm.”

Your cheeks burned at his offhanded comment, and even with his back turned to you, you could see the slight smile tugging at his cheeks. He must’ve felt so cocky, thinking that he’d defeated you, so you blurted out the most intelligent thing possible: “How dare you!” while grabbing onto his shoulders to make him face you. “Look me in the eye and take that back!”

“Whatever you’re planning,” he crooned, head tilted to the side and making strands of his bangs fall over his eyes. He looked absolutely handsome under the flickering lights of the hallway in that moment, and you hated how you weren’t able to take your hands off of his strong shoulders, his masculine and spicy perfume clouding your mind. “It’s not going to work. Surprise surprise, but you’re not as cute as you think you are.”

Your eyes burned with fire, the nerves in your body so closing to popping. He infuriated you so much. “And you’re not as sexy as you believe you are!”

“Oh, yeah?” The positions are suddenly switched as he cornered you beside his doorframe, both of his arms planted beside your head. Because he was taller, he had to lean down to look you in the eye, his warm, minty breath brushing over your lips. You stared at him with wide eyes, fingers raking over the wall in a silent attempt to flee. Upon seeing your pursed lips, he laughed.

“Then why are you so shaky? Do I make you nervous?” his head dipped down, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Say…you only pretend to hate me, but you actually wish it was you I’m fucking every night, don’t you? Tell me…do you touch yourself when you hear me eating someone out?”

“I-I’m not—”

Before you could combust under his gaze, he pulled himself away from you, a satisfied smirk on his face at your flustered state. He chuckled lowly, keys spinning on his thick finger. “I was just teasing you, princess. No need to get so worked up.”

“I never want you near me again!”

He raised both brows as if to challenge you, and you knew from the glint in his eyes he was up to no good. “Princess, you jumped on me first.”

“I didn’t!” You shouted, immediately slapping your palm over your lips after realizing people were sleeping. He snickered at your reactions, and you pushed past him back to your unit, suddenly losing the appetite to get your precious snacks. “God, I hate you so much.”

“Believe me, the feeling is mutual.”

Difficult. Unbelievable. Complicated. Idiotic. Nothing was ever easy with him.

“Would you stop fidgeting?” your father scolded from his chair, his body barely moving as the stylists fixed his hair and makeup, but his eyes glared at you from the mirror. “You’re a lot more nervous than I am, and it’s my wedding.”

“Sorry, I can’t help it.”

Your father sighed to himself, standing up after they were done with him. He checked his appearance in the mirror for a while, nodding to himself in satisfaction. It was still a little surreal that he was going to get married again, to a woman half his age of all people, but he was happy, and his bride seemed to really love him too, so you no longer questioned your father’s decisions. He was an adult, anyway, he could make his own decisions.

“You’re waiting for your boyfriend, you say?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s he like?”

You stiffened at the question. Not wanting your sharp-eyed father to pick up on the smallest cues, you lied through your teeth despite not having any idea on who or what kind of person the escort was.

Other than discussing details of how you two supposedly met, conversations had been crisp and short. You were lucky that the escort seemed to be nice and smart enough to not always ask you to explain everything, and he was crisp and curt in his texts too. No flirty or suggestive messages, not even a single emoji. He seemed a little stiff, and while you worried if you could fake chemistry with someone who seemed like a wall, you were also assured by the fact he wasn’t some creep.

“Nice. He’s sweet. You’ll like him.”

“And when did you meet him?”

“Dad, do I have to tell this story all over again?” you groaned, “We met after exams, he goes to a different uni and he studies law—”

“Law. Impressive.”

“Of course you’re impressed,” you rolled your eyes. Coming from a family of doctors and engineers, your father, and pretty much everyone else in the family, also expected that you’d date someone who was equally intelligent and had enough connections in different industries at least. It just so happened you were really lucky your escort also really did study law for a bit before he became an escort; a detail you never got enough explanation for. “He’ll be here anytime soon. Just you wait.”

In reality, you were the one who couldn’t wait.

You were excited and nervous at the same time to see this mysterious escort, and you were in the middle of talking to your father and his bride when someone called you.

“Y/N?”

You turned around with a bright grin. That must be him! You clasped at the hems of your dress so you could meet this mysterious, rigid man properly, but the moment your eyes met his equally startled gaze, you choked on your own breath. “Y-you—”

Choso stood before you; handsome as ever in his suit and tie, his iconic twin tails still there. How ever would your father believe you now that he was a lawyer, especially with his messy hair and face tattoo? You loved it and found it sexy on him, no denying that, but your father was a little bit more traditional. But that aside, it was Choso?!

His professionalism arose and he regained his composure quicker than you did, the smile on his face so natural and alluring even you almost fell for it.

Choso wrapped an arm around your waist before kissing you on the cheek, and the skin felt extremely hot under his lips. You couldn’t move, couldn’t even speak, because Choso was pressed flush against you, and he looked at you with stars shining in his eyes you didn’t know whether to be flattered or afraid.

Maybe a fucked up mix of both.

“I’m sorry I’m late. Traffic was bad,” he explained with a small smile on his lips, and he looked so handsome and smelled so good in that moment you were left gaping at him as he bowed to your father, arm politely extended. “You must be Y/N’s father. It’s very nice to meet you sir. I’m her boyfriend, Choso.”

To your surprise, your father eagerly shook his hand with the brightest grin he’d worn the whole night before he faced you with a laugh. “No way,” he beamed, gesturing to Choso. “He’s your boyfriend? You managed to snag this fine man?”

“Dad!” your ears burned with embarrassment. Choso only laughed; making you painfully aware of his large, warm hand resting at the small of your back.

“I heard you’re a lawyer, son?”

“Yes, sir.”

Your father nodded in approval, the two exchanging over words about what his plans were for the future and how his studies were going. You stood there with a pounding heart, fearful that Choso could fuck up any moment, but he was so effortless and easy going. Had you not been the one paying him, you would’ve been fooled too.

So this was the life of an escort.

“So how much did my daughter pay you?”

“Dad, I didn’t—”

“I mean, there’s no way she actually charmed you with her non-existent social skills. My daughter here can’t even talk to someone and look them in the eye, much less ask someone out, so how did this happen?”

Choso laughed at your father’s lighthearted comment, saving the day for what seemed like the hundredth time already. “I approached her first, sir. We were both eating in this small diner and it was cramped, so we shared tables and started conversation,” Suddenly, his grip tightened on you as he pulled you closer, your ear now resting above the lulling and steady beating of his heart. How was he so calm?

He lightly squeezed your hip and it had you freezing under his touch, stiffening even more when he looked down at you so adoringly. “Guess it went downhill from there.” God, you had no idea who this man was.

“Really? What did you guys talk about?”

Choso opened his mouth to speak, but it was there, that damned glint on those dark eyes again that you clutched at his bicep. He may be damn good at this job, but knowing Choso, he was enjoying this way too much.

Anything you couldn’t predict or control properly was a huge no in your game, and you pulled Choso away before he could say something downright humiliating.

“Dad, just go focus on your wedding. I want to spend time with my boyfriend, okay?” You couldn’t even begin to fathom the inward cringe upon your words, the feeling only worsening when Choso fought back a laugh masked with a cough. Before your father could say anything else, you dragged Choso rather harshly, but he didn’t mind; he followed you obediently. “Come with me. I need to talk to you,” You didn’t stop until you were both alone in a desolated corner, and finally, you hissed at him. “What are you doing here?!”

“I should be asking you the same thing – but it turns out you’re my client.”

“Client? So you really are my escort?”

“Yes, I am.”

“So those women…”

“All my clients,” he confirmed your thoughts. “I assure you they knew what they were getting into. In fact, they were the ones who asked for that special service that caused you to lose your sleep every night. That woman the other day was just pissed because she booked me for three days, but I lied that I was available until the duration she wanted when I wasn’t.”

“You mean you were still working an escort for somebody else?”

He shrugged. “Pretty much.”

“Why did you lie then?”

“It’s more money,” Choso stared down at his hands before his eyes flitted back up to yours, his face unreadable. “I’m saving up so I can move somewhere else. Our apartment isn’t exactly the most ideal considering my profession. I need to find someplace quieter with thicker walls this time,” he smiled, “That way, I’ll no longer bother my sweet neighbor,” your lips felt dry at his words, your tongue darting out to lick at them while Choso scrutinized you under his gaze.

“I have to admit though – you asking for escort service is the last thing I’d ever imagine you doing. Not that I’m complaining since it’s still money in my pocket, but you’re not the most pleasing company to be with.”

“Oh, you bet, Choso. Had I known you were going to be my escort, I would’ve declined long ago,” you groaned, your head dropping in your hands. “What was Ijichi thinking when he said I would be compatible with you?”

“You’re not,” he stated, “But I am compatible with you – as I am with pretty much everyone else. I’m one of the best escorts, and soon you’ll see why.”

You didn’t understand what he meant by then, but it seemed Choso was quite eager to show his skills off when he dragged you back inside the reception event. The whole time, you couldn’t pay attention to anything or anyone else other than Choso. It still felt hard to believe that the whole time, he really was doing his job, and upon seeing how easily he had people believing you two were an item despite you just standing silently beside him, you felt guilty that you disrupted his “work” like that.

Guilt gnawed at you as Choso made everyone laugh, and soon your relatives were cooing, praising you and congratulating you that you were “happy” now.

Back then, you always looked down on him and even called him a mere fuckboy, but Choso was so much more than that. He was intelligent; his past as a lawyer proved that, and whatever happened that caused him to work in this industry kept lingering in your mind.

There was no denying it now.

You respected this man – admired him even.

“And now it’s time to join the newly married couple on the dance floor! Come on, people, bring your dates up here for a twirl!”

You remained planted in your seat, too comfortable with Choso’s jacket draped around your bare shoulders. You’d lost count of how many times your head ducked down for the lack of sleep, and as much as you loved your dad, you wanted nothing more than to go home and rest.

Choso offered his hand to yours, a teasing smile on his face. He wriggled his eyebrows up and down, and he looked so utterly ridiculous that you couldn’t believe the boring man you were texting was the same infuriating yet undeniably attractive bastard who was your neighbor was the same fun. The world is very small, it seemed, and you weren’t sure whether you were brave enough to venture these strange places and feelings.

“Uh-uh. No. I’m not dancing.”

“Two left feet?”

“No, I’m wearing heels. My feet hurts.”

“Then take it off.”

“And get my feet dirty?” you scoffed. As if to prove your point, you snuggled deeper into his jacket that smelled heavenly like him, closing your eyes as you pretended to sleep. “Sitting here isn’t so bad. Plus, look at them, all staring at each other with goo-goo eyes. It’s revolting,” you shuddered.

Through the sickeningly romantic music playing in the background, Choso fell silent. You cracked an eye open, frowning when Choso studied each of your features carefully. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You seem to hate the idea of love.”

“Because it’s pointless.”

Choso narrowed his eyes at your answer, brows bunching up at the way your shoulders squared to keep yourself away. Then, he stood up and sighed, offering his hand to you once more.

“I won’t really ask you to explain why, because frankly, I don’t care,” you stared at his large palms for a few seconds. There must be a ghost possessing your body because you looped your fingers through his and allowed him to guide you on the dance floor despite your mind’s protests, and soon, Choso’s eyes were all over you. “But if you don’t want your money to go down the drain and you really want to convince everyone, I suggest you forget about that mindset for just a few more hours,” his voice dropped down to a low whisper, his forehead pressed to yours. His eyes turned solemn, his hand on your waist gentle. “Dance with me. Let’s show them how madly in love we are with each other.”

“We met just last week, remember?”

“Love at first sight, princess,” Choso kissed your forehead, sending your heart thumping and running to another dimension. Oddly enough, you didn’t mind, and your hands travelled from his strong arms to his broad shoulders instinctively. “Take your heels off. You can step on my feet and I’ll dance for us both. Just put your arms around my neck – yes just like that,” he nodded with a smile when your fingertips nervously played with his hair, and Choso began to dance you both in time with the music. “Are you good?”

“I don’t like this lack of space between us.”

Choso smirked, “Why, do I get you all hot and bothered?”

“Jesus, Choso, you can’t be serious for a minute, huh?”

“It’s kind of hard to be serious when you’re so flustered and adorable right now,” you pulled at his hair in response, but of course, he wasn’t really hurt.

“Look at me,” he demanded, but you refused, keeping your gaze planted on your bare feet on top of his again. “Hey. I said look at me,” he tilted your chin up until you’re forced to be like prey under his gaze, his breath tickling the bow of your lips. “I am your escort for tonight – and I humbly ask that you do your part as my client so I can perform my job well. I need you to look into my eyes and pretend you’re in love with me.”

“I don’t want to fall in love with anyone,” you suddenly admitted, “I’m scared.”

“You don’t have to be,” he replied, softly this time, and his hands ran down tenderly to your hips to pull you closer to him. “I’ll be there to catch you.”

You couldn’t remember who leaned in first. The only thing you remembered was that the music faded in the background when you kissed him – or maybe he kissed you – fuck, you didn’t really remember. Eventually, the kiss grew too heated, his hands squeezing your waist while you moan at the taste of chocolate and wine on his expert tongue.

Choso easily read your mind and swooped you away from the crowd, the both of you stumbling until you made it out to the venue and onto the beach.

The salty air kissed your skin while Choso carried you bridal style, arms looped around his neck while he kept moving his lips above yours. He was laughing through the kiss with how messy and eager you were, tugging at his shirt to encourage him to unbutton it. Choso set you both down on the darker, isolated part of the beach where nothing but the sound of waves lapping against one another could be heard with your breathless pants and his chuckles.

You were lying on his jacket, dress bunched up to your chest while your legs were spread wide open for him. “Ch-Choso,” you choked out when his tongue ran flat across your slick folds, his hands keeping your hips pinned down to the sand. “I-I, please.”

“I got you, princess,” was all he said before he completely dived into your heat, his sharp nose brushing into your cunt.

It didn’t take long until you were spasming in his hold, legs closing around his head. Choso groaned into your pussy, a finger working its way inside your sopping cunt while he licks and slurps your arousal like it was fucking water. Now you understood why those girls always lost their mind – Choso was a fucking expert when it came to worshipping pussy.

Choso pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine at the sudden emptiness, but he was kind, eager to please you that he immediately replaced it with his tongue.

You cried out when you felt his tongue entering your hole, one thumb pulling the hood of your lips up to reveal your sensitive pearl. Choso rubbed your clit fervently, his other hand reaching up to squeeze and tug at your breasts while he drank your juices dripping down his tongue as if you would be his last meal – and he honestly wished you were, because you tasted like heaven on him and he wanted more.

Once he felt you clamping down on his tongue so tightly he struggled to retrieve his warm muscle back, he helped you reach your high by pinching your clit. You moaned out his name, the sound sending blood straight down his cock, and he groaned into your pussy the moment you grinded on his face as you relaxed from your orgasm.

Choso didn’t give you the chance to recover from your orgasm, pulling you up to his lap before he’s kissing you again. You moaned when you tasted yourself on his tongue, his face and cheeks sweet from your arousal and cum.

You should be ashamed, but you couldn’t find a single bone in your body that felt shy right now. Choso was right – there was no point in being shameful when it came to your pleasure.

The kiss was sloppy, more tongue than lips and teeth clashing onto another. Choso grinded you on his hardened erection in search of your heat that would bring him relief, but he slowed down and pulled away from you, a string of saliva connected from your lips. He wanted you – wanted to fuck you so badly – so he searched your eyes for the answer when you aligned the tip of his cock to your entrance. “Is this okay? Are you sure with this?”

“Yeah,” you gritted your teeth when his tip entered your tight cunt, your walls sucking him in greedily already. Choso’s head dropped down to your shoulder, his teeth sinking down to your shoulder. You slowly sat down on his thick length, but then froze before he could bottom out. “Wait, no, I’m broke! I can’t pay for your extra services!”

“It’s free for you, princess,” he rasped out, “Now sit on my lap so I can feel you around me already.”

“Do you always have to be so vulgar?”

Through the pleasure that had his abs rippling, Choso managed a laugh. “You might want to get used to it.”

“Why would I?” you breathed out, eyes shutting tight once he fully slid into you. He allowed you to get used to the sudden stretch; it had been too long since you’ve been touched this way that you were impossibly tight around him right now. Your chest rose and fall with each faltering breath, your nails running down his back when Choso gave a deep, experimental thrust that immediately hits your sweet spot.

You moaned, cheek resting on his shoulder as Choso set the pace, squeezing your ass as he bounced you up and down his cock. “You’re gone after this. Once this contract is over, you’re moving away and I won’t get to see you anymore. I-I won’t lose sleep anymore after hearing you fuck all those women and gosh, I hate you so much, you know that?”

“I hated you too,” he groaned through your skin, “Or at least, that’s what I told myself so I wouldn’t get hurt.”

“Hurt? I would never hurt you,” Really, you praised yourself for still being able to form coherent sentences even after Choso kept fucking into you.

“I’m an escort, princess, I’m everybody’s and nobody’s at the same time,” he explained almost angrily, and his lips zealously sucked love bites to the sensitive flesh of your neck, “Even if you won’t hurt me, we’re bound to crash and burn at some point. This is why we’re not allowed to get attached to anyone,” his lips brushed over her collarbone, his canines dragging along to make red marks. “Why we’re not allowed to fall,” he squeezed her breast in the palm of his hand, twisting the peaked nipple until you whined, hips bucking deeper into his cock. “Why we’re not allowed to love.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“I’ve always liked you,” he laughed through the pleasure, holding your hips down so he could drive his cock deeper into you. Yes, he was selfish, yes, he was frustrated – and his feelings burst through the way Choso powered into you. You fell limp in his arms and he easily caught you like he always did, his eyes blown wide as he stared right into your eyes, his dick still pummeling through your gummy walls.

Choso inhaled sharply when you clenched down on him, an elongated moan spilling past your lips. “I liked you the moment you moved in and you fell flat on your face before you could greet me.”

“Shut up, don’t remind me of that!” you raked your nails down his back hard enough to draw blood, and Choso concealed the pain with light chuckle, the pain only prompting him to absolutely use you. “You’re seriously bringing it up now when you’re – ah, fuck – b-buried in me?”

Choso tugged at one of your legs and wrapped it around his waist, the sudden change of angle had you pressing down deeper into him. It felt like you were sinking closer and closer to his cock, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix until you’re crying out in his arms, scratches evident on his back.

“For now,” he breathed out, “I want to at least be selfish enough to want you now, just for now if fate won’t still allow it.”

“W-we can try,” you said in your lust-filled gaze, lips crashing down messily to his while you bounced on him, your hips slamming down at the same to meet his thrusts. “It’s not going to be easy, but we can try, right?” You cupped his face, surprised with the sudden vulnerability from his hooded eyes, looking so innocent and beautiful as if he wasn’t painting your insides white.

“Okay,” he nodded, brows pinching together. And that was all the both of you needed before Choso sank his fangs down the column of your neck to hold on his low groans; your head thrown back as you both drown in the pleasure of being with one another.

In the blink of an eye, all tenderness is Choso’s touches replaced by the hunger in his eyes and the power of his lust-filled thrusts. You were a moaning mess by the time your hips sit flat on his pelvic bone and his balls brush on your ass from how deep he was hitting you, and you felt his teeth nibble at the side of your breasts again as he warned, “But for now, I’m not going to go easy on you – not when I’ve wanted you for so long and I’ve been so hard for you these all time.”

And you allowed him. Because nothing was ever easy with Choso, but for him, you’d try pushing through hell and back.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

What’s yours is mine 1

Warnings: nonconsent and rape, allusions to abuse, stalking, possessiveness, pregnancy, and more tags to be added.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Pairing: dark!Ransom Drysdale x pregnant!Reader

Summary: After five years, your past is far behind you but just as you think you can live your happily ever after, your ex shows up at the worst moment.

Note: I couldn’t sleep and ended up writing this and it will not be a long ongoing series but it will be a few parts. But Roo you say that all the time. Yes, well, I’m trying and I’m sorry but I’m gonna try to not be the worst.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

“Oh my god, is that really you?” the voice made you stand stalk straight.

You took a breath and forced a smile before you turned to the indomitable woman. You never expected to see Linda again, not after you broke up with her son almost five years ago. And there she was, as rigid and righteous as ever, her thin lips curved in a mocking grin.

“Linda,” you greeted her in a singsong and looked around the grocery store. You never went to the overpriced organic market but your local shop didn’t have dragonfruit and you had a painful craving, “how are you?”

“Darling, I’m just great,” she held an empty basket on her arm, an odd sight as you never expected her to do her own shopping, “oh, and look at you!” Before you knew it, her hand was on your stomach and you struggled not shy away, “how far are you?”

“Um,” you looked down at the large ring on her finger and resisted the urge to step away as you often did in this situation, “almost five months.”

“And married?” she grabbed your left hand and pretended to admire the small teardrop diamond, “gorgeous.”

“Mhmm,” you waited for you to release you and swayed in place, “you barely look a day older than the last time I saw you.”

“You’re well? You look well,” she primped her short hair at the compliment, “oh, a baby.” She reached out again and you sighed as she rubbed your stomach, “for luck.”

You tried not to frown and ended up laughing at the tension, “well, it was nice running into you.”

“Oh, you know, I barely come down here but we’re headed up to my father’s place, you remember, such a cozy house, and Joni is in charge of food and well, I wouldn’t trust her with a plastic spoon so of course, I have a back up plan.”

You nodded along with her awkwardly, frozen in the spot as the dragon fruit barely seemed worth the torture. Linda was hard to please and alway derisive, but for as long as you were with Ransom, she had taken a keen shine to you. That alone came with an edge but it was rarely used to cut you.

You forced another laugh, “that sounds fun, getting away from the city.”

“Ugh, just another family gathering,” she waved it off with her free hand, “I’ll have to tell Ransom I ran into you, if he even shows up.”

“Well, I don’t think--”

“He’s grown up so much,” she interrupted, “you wouldn’t believe it. He got his own imprint in my father’s company publishing true crime. He’s really making a place for himself now.”

“That’s great,” you tried not to falter at the mention of her son. You hadn’t ended on the greatest terms and your relationship had been tumultuous and regrettable.

“I hope you have a great weekend, Linda,” you said, “but I got to--”

“Oh, not at all, I’m keeping you,” she squeezed your arm, “God, he was such an idiot to let you go.”

You nodded and swallowed through your tight throat, “I’m glad he’s doing better for himself.”

“You too,” she trilled, “oh, before I let you go, darling, is it a boy?”

You blinked and your smile wavered, “how did you know?”

“I could always tell,” she said, “so precious.”

She gave your stomach one last pat and disappeared into the produce section. You blinked as you looked down at the scaled fruit in your right hand. Chocolate, you needed chocolate.

You were rattled as you waited in the express line and put your things on the belt. You hadn’t thought of Ransom in a very long time. Not much. His shadow followed you around in those moments when your heart raced and your head spun, but you had learned to work through those fits. No one else knew what happened behind closed doors, they only knew Ransom, not Hugh.

You paid and shoved your fruit and candy into a paper bag. You headed out into the misty spring air. The rain had finally stopped and left the streets slick and shining. The sun was hazy as it clung to the last of the clouds and you inhaled the wet scent of grass and gravel.

You let your key hang from the ignition as you took a moment to gather yourself. You stared at the modest ring on your finger and held your stomach and you swore you could still feel Linda’s bony hand there. 

You had a loving husband, Dez, and a son on the way. Ransom wasn’t a part of any of that and this was just a blip on radar, the aftershock of the storm that ended years before. You sniffed and turned the engine. You wouldn’t go back to that store, it was far too expensive and the clientele were certainly not of your ilk.

🍼

Dez was in the kitchen when you got home, the smell of steak and peppers rose from the frying pan. You kissed his cheek as he kept one hand on the spatula and you dropped your bag on the counter beside the stove. You went to the fridge and poured yourself a glass of water. You turned and leaned against the marble and drank deeply.

“So, hon, how was your day?” he asked as he put the spatula down and peeked in the bag, “hmm, odd pairing but I don’t hate it.”

“I had a craving,” you shrugged, “it was… okay,” you heaved, “what’s for dinner?”

“Steak fajitas,” he said, “I trimmed the fat for you and,” he turned and reached out to you, “and I got you some champagne… non-alcoholic, obviously.”

“You know it doesn’t have the same effects,” you kidded as you put your glass down and settled into his arms, “and well,” you looked down at your stomach, “we already got one drunken night growing.”

He laughed and bent to kiss you on the lips. He rocked you as the pan sizzled behind him. You closed your eyes and tensed as suddenly your head flashed with the memory of Ransom, of the way he’d kiss you, harder than Dez, and the way it always turned to more whether you wanted it or not.

“Hey,” Dez pulled back, “you okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied, “hormones.”

“Aw, hon, well I have the perfect dessert planned,” he purred.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmhmm, strawberry massage oil,” he framed your face with his hand, “a nice long back rub…”

“Perfect,” you giggled, “why are you spoiling me?”

“Don’t I always?” he smirked.

“Hmm, rarely without reason,” you said.

“Well…” he voice trailed off and slowly he dropped his arms. He turned his back to you and grabbed the pan, stirring the contents with a shake, “I didn’t want you to miss me too bad.”

“Miss you?” you came forward and bent your arms over the counter, “where are you going?”

“Chicago, there’s some evidence down there we need to look at and they refuse to transfer it to our office so… bullshit confidentiality clause, but we need it.”

“How long?” your heart dropped.

“Well, I gotta leave in the morning but I told Gary I won’t stay longer than Monday.”

“And what did he say?”

“He laughed,” Dez shook his head, “I promise, I’ll do my best to be back as soon as I can--”

“No, I understand,” you said gloomily, “it’s just…” you cupped your chin and tapped your lips with your fingertips, “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too,” he said as he turned the burner off, “and this little guy,” he touched your stomach and you shivered as you remembered how Linda had done the same with her cold palm, “so, you choose a name yet?”

“Still not naming him Superman, babe,” you chided, “but no, I can’t make up my mind. God, it’s like my mind is in shambles, I can’t remember why I go in a room or even focus on one thing for more than two minutes before I’m distracted by what colour I want to paint the nursery and I can’t even decide on that because then I’m thinking about what kind of wood the crib should be--”

“It’s fine, you’re fine,” he assured as he opened the bag of tortillas, “you’re still there, you’re just… sharing a brain right now.”

“Wasn’t enough to go around in the first place,” you scoffed.

“Shh,” he arranged the plates carefully, like a five star restaurant, tortillas stacked, steak and veg together, a little dish of cheese, some sour cream, lettuce, salsa, all divvied out in a spectacular salsa you would only make a mess of.

“I thought the pregnancy would give me a chance to finish my book, but--”

“Well, you got maternity leave after that,” he said.

“From what? Sitting at my keyboard and crying? I’ll just be holding a baby and crying,” you sighed, “you said you’d take some time off.”

“I did say that and I will,” he grabbed the plates and nodded you out of the kitchen. He set the plates on the table and you sat as he went to grab two glasses and as many bottles. He poured you your spineless champagne and had a beer for himself, “I don’t want to miss anything.”

“You can’t take forever off,” you muttered, “we both know that. I could go back to copywriting and maybe--”

“Babe, that job made you miserable and you will finish your book,” he handed you a napkin, “I’ve read your stuff, it’s… you said your ex was in publishing?”

“Did I?”

“I thought you did, you never really… talk about the exes, which I love but, I think you said something about it. You don’t think he would--”

“No,” you snapped, “no,” you said softer, “he wouldn’t.”

“Sorry,” he said startled by your reaction, “I didn’t--”

“It’s nothing, I just-- exes, right?”

“It was a stupid suggestion,” he said, “I’m sorry, but… I have a client, he might have some contacts.”

“You don’t have to do that--”

“I don’t have to, I want to because the world deserves to hear your voice,” he insisted, “I hate to share you but I’d be selfish to keep you to myself.”

You smiled and unfolded a tortilla. Still, your heart raced as the second mention of Ransom that day had you on edge. Dez watched you build your fajita and you looked up at him.

“Well, since you’ll be in Chicago, maybe I’ll get a few pages done.”

🍼

The call came on Monday, Dez wouldn’t be home that night. You contented yourself to stay in with your laptop and sugar cookies. Still, you barely got a sentence done before you snapped your computer closed and gave up with a frustrated grunt. You slept, not well, and got up with some trouble as your hips ached.

A good morning text from Dez made you smile but there was still no promise of an impending return. You felt pent up in the apartment and lonely as its emptiness reminded you of your absent husband. Too tense to sit down and type, you opted to go for a walk, hoping it would calm your nerves.

You walked past the shop windows and stopped to peek in at used books and handmade candles. You had no destination in mind, only a restless step. There was a little store at the corner with locally made quilts and knitted sweaters. The smell of potpourri wafted out from beneath the painted door and made your throat tickle. Even so, your curiosity drew you inside.

A small woman greeted you from behind the desk. She held two needles as she crocheted some indistinguishable craft. You smiled and said hello as you headed down the centre aisle. You looked along the racks of quilts, floral, striped, plaid, and polka dot. You stopped at a bright yellow piece with honey bees along the border. You hadn’t thought of yellow for the nursery.

You felt the soft fabric and checked the tag. You lifted the quilt from the bar, content that it was worth it and a great motivator. You stopped before you could turn back, a familiar voice chilled your blood.

“It’s cute,” Ransom said as he stepped up next to you, “kinda girly for a boy though.”

You glanced over at him and folded the blanket over your arm. You backed up but as you turned he did too. He blocked your bath as he stretched his arm across the aisle.

“My mother told me you were expecting,” he said, “and she was right, you look good.”

“What do you want?” you whispered as you clutched the quilt.

“Nothing, just saying hello,” his mouth slanted.

“Hugh, I’m not stupid,” you hissed, “it’s been five years.”

“Hugh,” he repeated dully, “you remember your manners.”

“Leave me alone and let me past,” you tried to duck under his arm but he shifted his body over and backed you up to the end of the aisle.

“And married,” he taunted.

“He’s outside,” you lied, “if I stay too long--”

“I didn’t see him when you walked up,” he intoned, “he must be easy to miss.”

“Have you been following me?” you uttered.

“Only from the cafe,” he shrugged, “short walk.”

“Please, get away from me,” you quivered.

“I’m not doing anything--”

“You know exactly what you’re doing,” you hissed, “now I will scream so move.”

“Mama Bear,” he crooned, “I love it, you’re so protective.”

“Hugh,” you warned.

“Sweetie,” he hummed.

You shoved his shoulder but he didn’t move. You hit him harder and he winced. He chuckled and stood straight. He waved his arm down the aisle and stepped aside.

“Don’t make a scene,” he said, “you always did like to be dramatic.”

“Fuck you,” you snarled, “don’t come near me again.”

“Don’t act like you don’t miss me,” he called after you as you dropped the quilt on the counter, “we were so good together.”

You left without buying, a shrill apology to the lady at the counter as you went as fast as you could out the door. The bell tinkled after you and the door clamored shut. You felt nauseous and dizzy. The last thing you wanted or needed was to ever see that man again.

[bangtanloverboys]

song of the broken hearted // pjm

summary - after finding your boyfriend of two years in bed with another woman, you find yourself wandering the beach at the edge of town. little do you know, there's something in the water, waiting for you. wanting you to join them. 

pairing - siren!jimin x female!reader

genre - angst, suspense, mystery, thriller; siren au

word count - 4.2k

warnings - recent break up, mentioned cheating, namjoon is an asshole, mentions/talk of suicide, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, drowning, sad ending, murder i guess?

author’s note - this is slightly inspired by the webtoon siren’s lament but not really; enjoy!

Love sucked. Honestly, you don’t know why you kept on trying to date with your history of bad relationships. Sure maybe some weren’t all that bad; right person, wrong time. But for the majority of them looking back, there was a sea of red flags all over. You don’t know how you could’ve missed them. Then again, you couldn’t help but feel you willingingly looked over them. Ignoring them because deep down you didn’t want to be alone. 

Whatever the reason might’ve been, you somehow always ended up getting your heart broken. 

The last relationship however stung a lot more than your others. Maybe because your exes were upfront with why they wanted to end things with you, which was the usual “not feeling the spark anymore” bullshit. Namjoon, your recent ex, had decided that you were never worth it apparently, seeing as how he admitted to cheating on you and for the entirety of your two year relationship! Worst part was, he didn't even plan on telling you! You’d only found out by accident, having decided to come over to surprise him at his place when you saw him in bed with a girl you’d recognized from his work. Namjoon didn’t even try to defend himself, only rolling his eyes at you while you shouted at him.

Furious and your heart in shatters, you stormed out of his house and just kept walking. You don’t know how long you walked, but it was until you hit the sand of a nearby beach. It was the middle of fall, so besides a few stragglers, it was nearly abandoned. 

With the sun setting below the horizon, you shucked off your shoes and kept walking. The sounds of the waves crashing against the shore filled your mind as the salty sea air grounded you. Once you reached where the water hit against the sand, you sat yourself down, watching the tide rise up ever so slowly. 

All alone, the realization of what had happened was settling in. Tears began to burn as you blinked them back. You didn’t want to cry. You shouldn’t waste tears on a man who clearly never cared about you. But your heart was weak and your mind wasn’t strong enough to keep it together. Wrapping your arms around your legs, you tucked yourself into your knees, as you quietly sobbed. 

You don’t know how long you sat there crying, trying your hardest not to attract any attention to yourself. When you looked up again, it was significantly darker, and a cool breeze brushed over your tear streaked face. Glancing up, you could see the stars just beginning to appear up in the vast darkness of the night sky. 

In your mind’s eye, you could still see Namjoon, laying there in his bed unresponsive as you screamed at him, calling him all sorts of nasty names. He’d only shrugged when you asked him why, but his words stung more than any other break up speech you’ve ever heard, and his was only a sentence, “You’re not worth the full commitment.” The statement rang in your ears as you stared over the roaring black sea. Maybe he was right. Maybe you weren’t worth the commitment. 

A sob unconsciously ripped from your lips as you hugged yourself tighter. The thought was daunting, but was it true? You were rarely the person who broke up with someone, only having ended relationships back in high school. But was the “not feeling the same spark” just a different way to word that you weren’t worth committing to?

Your mind spiraled with those dark thoughts, not knowing what else to think, when a beautiful voice was heard singing over the thundering waves. Perking up, you looked around, trying to find the singer, but spotted no one. The beach had been completely abandoned. You listened intently to the song, trying to place where it was coming from, but the more you listened, the more you felt at ease. All the muscles in your body relaxed as the singer continued on. A sigh fell from your lips as you rose from your spot on the sand. You had to find the owner of this voice, needed it more than anything. 

As you listened on, there was a tingling feeling inside you, telling you the singing was coming from the ocean. Taking a step further, the voice got a little louder. With each step you took, your mind got fuzzier and fuzzier, nothing else mattered but the voice you heard. The cold water didn’t even phase you as it rolled over your feet, in fact the cold felt comforting as it hit against your legs. The further you waded into the water, the louder the voice got, but you saw no one around that could be the source of the singing.

You were nearly waist deep in the water, ready to dive in and swim toward the voice when another deep shout was heard from behind you “Hey!” drowning out the song and pulling back towards reality. “What are you doing out there? Beach is closed!” The voice continued to shout.

Suddenly the freezing water no longer felt as comfortable as it was moments ago. Glancing back over your shoulder, you saw what you presumed to be a lifeguard. You raised your arm, signaling to him you heard and began walking back towards the shore.

Upon reaching the beach, you were approached by the brown haired man, wearing the signature red lifeguard jacket. You must’ve looked like a mess as a look of shock went over his face. “You alright, miss?”

“I’m fine,” you responded, shivering in your soaking wet clothes.

Biting his lip, he shed his jacket and put it over your shoulders, a poor attempt at warming you up. “Are you sure you’re alright? Is there anyone you’d like me to call?”

“I said I’m fine,” you insisted, hugging the red material closer to your body. 

He eyed you suspiciously before nodding. “Alright. But I’m going to have to escort you off the beach.”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay,” you sighed, irritation lacing your voice. He turned before started back inland, leaving you alone for a brief moment. You stared back over the rolling black ocean, hoping to hear the voice again, yet all you heard was the crash of the waves.

Two days had passed since you were at the beach and no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t remember the song you heard. Late at night, you’ll stare up at your ceiling and walk yourself through that night over and over again, trying your damnedest to recall the voice, yet you came up with nothing. You couldn’t name a tune, a note, nor even if the singer was male or female. You were beginning to feel like you had simply gone crazy for a few moments, hallucinating the voice. But with the way you remembered feeling when you heard that song, how all your troubles seemingly were whisked away and how free you felt; there’s no way you couldn’t have imagined it. 

There was one thing you knew though: you had to hear it again.

Which was how you found yourself staring back at the ocean, the sun hanging low in the sky. You were on a more secluded area of the beach, a small cove surrounded by cliffs; a slight precaution to ensure you wouldn’t be interrupted again. You watched as the waves rose and crashed against the sand, waiting. You weren’t even sure how, when, or even if the voice would sing again. But you sat there patiently. 

As the sun fell behind the horizon and the sky grew darker, you slowly began to lose hope. Maybe you were imagining it. Maybe you were so dehydrated from crying for so long and desperate for anything to make you feel any other emotion, you made up the voice to distract you from your broken heart. 

With a sigh, you stood up from your spot on the sand. After dusting the sand off, you began to gather your things in preparation for the small trek back inland. As you straightened up again, you heard it.

The song.

Dropping all your stuff to the ground, you turned to face the raging sea. The singing was emitting from the waters, barely audible over the crashing of the waves. You felt the familiar tingling spread throughout your body as you stepped towards the water again. Like last time, the singing got louder and louder the further you went out. You could tell the water was freezing, yet you didn’t feel it. It felt like you were being wrapped up in a blanket, all soft and safe. 

Unable to walk any further, you started swimming. Dunking your head beneath the surface, the singing was clearer and louder underwater. Your mind was cloudy, wanting to do deeper, to follow the voice. Back up for air, you took a big gulp of air before diving back down into the darkness. The salt water burned your eyes as you looked around, trying to find the source of the song, but it was coming from everywhere. It was all around you.

Your arms grew tired as you pushed deeper and your lungs were burning for air as you swam further down. Every single fiber of your body wanted you to return to above the surface, wanting to breathe. Yet your mind, all cloudy and full of cotton, wanted you to push on. Keep swimming down. Find the voice. 

Farther down, you saw a strange outline in the darkness. It was too big to be a fish, yet it was moving around so fluidly that it had to be some sort of aquatic creature. You weren’t sure if it was your state of mind, or the fact you were slowly losing air, but you knew that whatever that creature was, it was the source of the song. 

You swam even harder now, wanting to get closer to it to see it. But dark spots started creeping through your already blurry vision. The pain your body was in sent a small shock through you, clearing your mind just enough to realize that you needed air. As you pushed yourself back up towards the surface, you heard a faint “Stay with me” echo around in your head. 

You gasped once you broke the surface, air filling your weakened lungs. Your limbs felt like they were made of lead, like you were going to sink back down. Yet your body floated, being pushed around by the waves back towards the shore. Despite just hearing the song, you were unable to recall it yet again. Like your mind had erased the singing from your memory. However, you could still recall the voice, speaking out for you, wanting you to stay. You must be some sort of delirious, as you wanted to follow the request, even still debating on going back down. 

Your weak body washed up against the sand. You were so tired. You didn’t think you’d be able to stand up, let alone walk all the way back home. Crawling away from the water, sand clung to your soaking body. You couldn’t even be bothered by it, you were just too exhausted. Your arms gave out once you reached your things, the sand was warm in contrast to your cold body. With a shiver, you curled up on your side and let your eyes fall shut. You’ll sleep for a few minutes, letting your body regain its lost energy. 

You were back underwater, your vision a lot clearer than before. The shadowy figure still below you, appearing so close yet so far. However, as you swam deeper, you swore the creature was coming towards you. Reaching out for it, a slimy slick hand grabbed yours. Just barely you were able to make out the features of the creature. You weren’t quite sure what you were expecting as it faced you, but you were surprised nonetheless. A male human-like face looked back at you, his skin a ghastly grey color. His eyes were almost completely black, looking up at you like you hung the moon and the stars in the sky. Dark locks swirled around him, framing his face delicately.  

He was the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid eyes on. 

Plump lips melted into a smile as he hand moved to cup your cheek, his clammy fingers brushing against your cheeks. As you leaned into his touch, the song filled your mind. Your head felt all cottony and soft as the singing echoed amongst the water surrounding you. You reached out with your own hand, but as your fingers grazed against his skin, his loving gaze turned sour. His lips parted, and he hissed as he lunged forward.

You awoke with a start, gasping loudly. Above you, the morning sun was shining brightly behind heavy clouds. It was just a dream. Your heart was still beating wildly in your chest as you sat up, the ocean raging even louder than last night. With a stretch, you got yourself back to your feet. Your clothes had dried overnight, yet they were stiff and coated with sand, not making them any less uncomfortable. Thankfully, it appeared that no one attempted to steal your things while you slept as your belongings were still on the sand next to you. Gathering up your stuff, you began the walk back towards your home. 

As you made your way back to the more populated side of the beach, you saw the brown haired lifeguard from the other night making his way toward the cove. When he saw you walking away from that section of the beach, he stopped in his tracks. He had a puzzled look on his face before slowly turning to approach you.

“Hi, I’m sorry to bother you but. . . did you sleep on the beach last night?” He eyed you up and down, taking in your sand covered body.

“Yes. . .” You responded cautiously, hoping you weren’t going to get in too much trouble. 

“Okay, because someone reported a body to be over in that area and uh, no offense-”

“I look like a dead body?” You raised a brow at him.

“Yeah, I’m sorry.” He chuckled nervously. “But this beach is common for suicides, so I wanted to make sure-”

“Wait what?” 

“Uh, police like to keep in on the low but several people have washed up on this beach after drowning. They’re all ruled as suicide because there’s no signs of any struggle. But if you ask me,” he leaned forward, lowering his already deep voice to a whisper, “someone or something is luring them out there.”

You furrowed your brows as you remembered the singing and how it drew you out to follow it. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve looked into it a bit. These so-called ‘suicides’ have happened several times over the past 50 years or so, all on this beach. And they never have any history of mental health issues, or depression,” the lifeguard explained as the two of you started walking away from the water and towards the tower.

“Why are they getting labeled suicides then?”

“Because days before they’re found, they all had a really bad break up.” Your eyes widened at him as he continued to talk. “So the police think they just couldn’t take it, thus suicide.”

“Did they. . . say anything before they died? Leave any notes?” You questioned further.

“I mean, most of them died the night of the break up. But there’s one that did leave something, I wouldn’t classify it as a note though.”

“Why?” You asked.

“Because it didn’t say anything about the break up or wanting to end their lives, it was just ramblings about some song.” He shrugged as you reached the tower. “Pretty sure you could find it somewhere on the internet, there’s a small conspiracy surrounding it all. But everyone agrees with the police.”

“Right, thank you.” You nodded, feeling a bit sick to your stomach.

“Y-you wouldn’t happen to know something, do you?” His voice was laced with concern. 

He reached out to you, but you pulled away from his grasp. “I-I need to go.” With not a second to lose, you turned on your feet as you made a beeline towards the end of the beach, the lifeguard calling after you, but unable to follow.

You felt like your whole world was spinning as you entered your home. You could barely think straight with the knowledge you were given. The mere thought of how close you came to being one of those mysterious suicides was nauseating. You wouldn’t have thought anything of it until the lifeguard mentioned the note about the song. . . Then you remembered how your lungs ached and burned from last night, it was impossible to deny that you had barely slipped away from whatever was calling out from the ocean below. 

Stripping yourself of your sandy clothing, you made your way towards your bathroom. You needed a shower. No longer able to think or be in the clothes you nearly drowned in. Hot water ran down your back as you leaned against the wall, trying to wrap your head around it all. There was one thing you knew for certain, and that was you could not return to the beach. 

As the water rushed down your body, you were able to get some semblance of peace. You gave a sigh of relief as you felt your body relax against the warm water. Shutting your eyes, you leaned your head back underneath the stream of water.

Then you heard it again.

The singing.

Eyes snapping open, you turned to look up at the showerhead, the water still gushing out as the song echoed against the tiled walls. Was it coming from the pipes? As you peered up into the silver nozzle, the warm water suddenly turned ice cold. With a yelp, you shut off the water. Unlike before, the song still played on in your mind. You could still hear it perfectly. 

Not even bothering to grab a towel, you scrambled over to your phone and connected it to your speakers, blasting the loudest rock song you could think of. The shelf your speaker was resting on shook with the base, unable to take the booming music. Yet the eurythmic tune still rang in your ears. To your horror, the blaring music melted into the strange melody , getting louder and louder until it felt like your ears were bleeding. 

Tearing at your hair, you let out an ungodly scream. You fell to your knees, curling up on the floor, stuffing your fingers in your ears to try and block out the song. The song still played on in your mind to no avail. As tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill, it all stopped. The only sound you were able to hear was the muffled noise of the sock music you’d turned on against your covered ears. 

Unplugging your ears, you could hear a faint knocking on your front door. With shaking limbs, you pushed yourself up right. Grabbing your phone, you turned off the music, the knocking still persisting at the door. You scrambled back to your bathroom, quickly wrapping yourself up in a towel before making your way over to answer the front door. 

Peering through the peephole, you spotted your neighbor standing before the door. Pulling the door open a crack, you gave her a smile. “Hi Mrs. Kim.”

“Is everything alright? Someone said they heard a scream,” she asked, sounding genuinely concerned for you.

“Oh uh, that was me,” you confessed, “m-my boyfriend and I were having sex. And he, uh, got a bit carried away.” You internally cringed at the lie, but you knew you couldn’t exactly reveal you were hearing a mysterious song that was driving slowly beginning to drive you insane.

She furrowed your brows at your answer. No doubt assuming you were in danger, she lowered her voice. “Honey, do you need me to call someone?” 

“No! I’m fine. We’re good. I’m so sorry for scaring you, that’s why the music was so loud.” You chuckled nervously as you began to shut the door, but she placed her hand on the door, ceasing any movement.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Mrs. Kim. Again, sorry for the disturbance.” Then you slammed the door shut, not giving her any other chance to question you further. You held your breath until you heard the clicking of her shoes as she walked down the pavement, away from you. Once she was gone, you slid down the door. Hitting the ground, you let go of your towel, letting yourself sit naked on the ground as you let your body calm down from all that had happened. 

You weren’t sure exactly what to do, or how you were supposed to move on from this because clearly avoiding the beach won’t be enough. For a split second, you considered moving further inland; get away from large bodies of water, or maybe water all together, but the idea was ridiculous. You couldn’t avoid water for the rest of your life; you had to hydrate, bathe yourself, hell what would happen if you started crying or sweating? It was an impossible thought to simply avoid water as a whole, but moving further inland wasn’t a bad start. 

Getting to your feet, you started packing a bag. You couldn’t care exactly what clothes you were going to wear or for weather you should prepare for, just stuffing the bag of your belongings until you deemed yourself done. Bag packed, you dressed yourself in some of the clothes still remaining in your dresser. After you put your shoes on, you made your way out of your apartment. 

Immediately, you were greeted with rain pouring down. With a sigh, you walked out from beneath the overhang, ready to walk to the nearest train station. Soon as you stepped out into the rainfall, the singing again filled your mind. You froze as the overwhelming urge to return to the beach slowly grew in the back of your mind. Yet your body refused to follow through, like it knew what was going to happen if you went to that beach. Your grip tightened on your bag as you resisted the pull of the song, but it grew too much. Dropping your bag, you began walking back towards the beach.

Each step you took, the louder the hypnotic melody grew. By the time you’d reached the sand, you were all but consumed by it. The beach was empty as you crossed it, no sign of any other human being. Sand clung to your soaking wet clothes, as if it was the world’s last ditch attempt to tether you to the earth, but the sand simply washed away as you stepped into the water. 

The intoxicating song reverberated around in your head, drowning out the smatter of the rain as you walked further out into the water. No longer able to keep walking, you took a deep breath and dove beneath the waves. You kicked and kicked down until you spotted a familiar outline.

It was the creature!

Unable to contain yourself, you pushed your limbs faster in an attempt to propel yourself deeper. As you swam further down, you noticed the shadow was getting larger; it was swimming towards you, just like in your dream! Reaching out, you felt the familiar thick slime of the hand as it wrapped around your wrist, pulling you in towards its embrace. Despite the darkness surrounding the both of you and the blurriness of your vision, you knew deep in you that this was the same man from your dream. The source of the song. 

His other slick hand came up to cup your cheek, and again, the same voice from the other night echoed in your mind. “Stay with me.”

You opened your mouth to respond, ‘yes’ but immediately water flooded in. Before you even began choking on the salty seawater, the man covered his mouth with yours. You stilled for a moment, a split second of clarity hitting you before you felt his lips begin to move against yours. Your eyes fluttered shut as you returned the kiss, ignoring the burning in your lungs as air slowly slipped away. Completely and utterly drunk on his song and his lips. 

He didn’t pull away from you as the man leaned back, pulling you down deeper into the ocean. You never felt the kick of his legs as you were taken further into the fathomless darkness. 

Pressure began to accumulate on your temples before slowly spreading over your head. The pain grew too much and you pushed yourself away from his kiss, bubbles escaping past your lips. Opening your eyes, you could no longer see anything, the darkness having completely surrounded you. Yet you knew he was still there, holding onto you as you felt his grip on your tighten as he pulled you deeper. 

Wanting to fight back, you raised a fist, but your body was weak. You were running out of air and the pressure was becoming too much. You felt your entire body go slack in his hold. It was hard to tell in the endless blackness, but dark spots began to dance around your vision. You weren’t sure if you’d even closed your eyes or not. How long had it been? Were you out of oxygen yet? You slumped against the hold of the mysterious creature. You could feel its chest vibrating; humming the song to lull you into sleep as your body was pulled into the abysmal darkness.

[tiedyemillenialbullshit]

Nightmare

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Avenger Reader Word Count: 3,431 Summary: Your best friend finally comes to visit the compound after you join the Avengers. What starts out as a fun night out, quickly turns dire for you and Bucky. Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Feelings, Mentions of Alcohol and Drugs, PTSD/Nightmares, swearing

“AHHHH Y/N!!” You hear her before you see your best friend running towards you, not a care in the world that your entire team has also turned around to watch you two galavant towards each other like long lost sisters.

You catch Sarah in your arms and spin her around.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re FINALLY HERE! And you’re early! Holy shit like I can’t believe you’re finally here in New York!! Let me introduce you to the team!” You grab her arm after she starts to show hesitance in meeting the Avengers all at once.

“Are you sure they have time? I don’t want to be a bother,” she says sheepishly.

“Oh my god Sarah, I talk about you all the time! They’re just as excited to meet you, come on.” You both walk towards the team still staring at you both near the entrance to the compound doing a quick debrief of a not-so-successful mission the day before.

“Guys, this is Sarah. Sarah this is-“ she cuts you off. “I know who you guys all are. It’s so nice to meet you! I’ll stay out of the way, I promise.” Everyone grins and introduces themselves to your best friend.

Nat smiles at you both, “On the contrary, you’re coming out with us tonight! No if’s, and’s or but’s”

Sarah seems to suddenly catch a second wind from her long flight and lets out a squeal of excitement.

You’re the newest to the “official” team, even though Steve and Fury had been trying to recruit you for years. You didn’t like the idea of the world knowing about your skill set and preferred to live a quiet life back in California. Ever since moving here, you’ve felt like maybe you weren’t home yet. Everyone was so nice and welcoming, but you missed your little house hidden in the outskirts of the National Parks in California. You missed the sun, the familiar smell of your patch of paradise and the general sense of room back home. Most importantly, you missed Sarah.

You were reluctant to invite her out to New York at first, but now that things seemed to be going smoothly, you sent for her via a car and private jet thanks to one Mr. Tony Stark. He was more than happy to help you out given your fresh and maybe sometimes bumpy arrival to the Avengers.

As everyone filed inside to break away before the evening festivities, Bucky caught your arm.

After holding you back for a second he said, “Hey, I can totally hang back tonight if you’d rather just be with Sarah and the team.”

You realize what he’s getting at. He also has some lack of feeling settled at the compound. It was something you bonded over when you first arrived. You both had similar pasts, even though they were at the same time lightyears apart.

“Buck, no. I think we’re all going out to Bleaker’s tonight! What’s a better way to get to know the team than bowling, beer, smoking inside, beer, old arcade games, more beer and maybe dancing?!”

Bucky gives you a quick glare out the corner of his eye before wrapping his metal arm around your shoulders to lead you inside after everyone.

“Fiiiiiiine, but I can’t promise I’ll behave.” You giggle, but suddenly feel a couple sets of eyes on you.

“And what do we have here?,” Tony asks with a smirk across his mouth. Sarah seems to be in the middle of an engaging conversation with Steve, so you don’t seem to have an easy out of this encounter. Bucky quickly drops his arm and steps a foot away from you.

“Uh, nothing. Y/N just seemed like maybe she wasn’t feeling well.”

“But I’m fine so here we are - have you seen Sam? Nat? Wanda? I told them we should be ready in a few hours and I jus-“

“Oh for Christ’s sake guys, your secret is safe with me,” Tony winks at you knowingly. You decide to take that as the end of the conversation and rush over to join Sarah.

“So! You have muscles.” Sarah says clearly at a loss of words looking at Steve in a tight shirt.

You and Bucky share a giggle, but pull Sarah away and save her from further embarrassment.

“What the fuck did I just say?” Sarah is about as red as a tomato as you drag her upstairs away from the awkward encounter. Steve looked a little flustered as well, which you file away in the back of your brain.

“Who cares! Let’s catch up and get ready for tonight.” Sarah is your best friend for a reason. Even though it had been 6 months since you last saw each other, it was like it was yesterday. You two spend the next few hours catching up, gossiping about each other’s families, friends, ex-boyfriends, etc.

“So! How are we doing in the boi department?” You turn around and face Sarah at the inquisitive tone in her question.

“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m good, I’m… I’m doing great, I mean yeah I’m good. WHY?” You’re stuttering and you don’t even care it’s obvious you’re blushing.

“Oh, you know. I mean, I’ve only recently met a few super soldiers, but I do think I can tell the there’s a spark between one and someone else.” Sarah so wants you to spill the tea but you promised Bucky you’d keep it quiet.

“Let’s just say things are developing and whatever you’d like to take from that you may.” You both launch into a giggle fit of her guessing and you denying certain aspects of Bucky Barnes.

When Wanda wanders into your room a few hours later, she starts laughing at what she sees. “You know you two are wearing like the same thing, right?” Exchanging confused looks at each other, you reply with a “AND?!”

Sam follows in with a smirk of his own. You’re bracing for his jokes but instead says “damn, OKAY! Everyone’s looking sharp tonight. Y/N, have you seen our bionic man around? Is he coming? He better come out tonight or I swear to…”

After Sam leaves to go find Bucky, the three of you wander down to find Nat and start the evening off with a shot or two. You aren’t much of a drinker, so one is enough for you. You much rather enjoy the company of your friend Mary Jane.

The team is getting silly with each other in the kitchen and quickly the room is filled with people yelling at each other to pregame harder, laughing when Nat’s little sister challenges Sam to a chugging contest and wins.

You feel a large hand at the small of your back. You can smell his cologne and know who it is immediately.

“Well don’t you look dashing tonight Sargent Barnes.” You lean in on impulse but stop yourself just as the girls turn around to see who you’re talking to.

“I was just going to say the same thing to you, sweets.” He mumbles in your ear before removing his hand and walking over to Sam.

The alcohol decides to hit you then, leaving you feeling empty that he’s not standing next to you anymore. Neither of you had wanted to have the “conversation” but you knew you were head over heels for him.

“CABS ARE HERE” screams Sam.

“Sam. For the love of God, stop watching Jersey Shore.” Natasha jokes to him.

At the same time Steve screams, “I understood that reference!” Eye rolls are exchanged as you all make your way outside.

The atmosphere is buzzing and you’re so excited to not just be out with your team, but to also have the only bit of family you had with you as well. You finally felt at home, at peace, and were ready for a fun night out.

Bleaker’s is one of those hole-in-the-wall dive bars that from the outside seems like a hard pass, but once you’re in, there’s no other place you’d rather spend a Saturday night. It’s true it started as a bowling alley in the 60’s. That still remains. What’s newer is the arcade in the back, where the old salon used to be. Jimmy bought the space next door, blew out the wall and filled it with arcade games that sometimes work and sometimes eat your money.

After years of being regular patrons, he knows your team well. The minute you walk in, he starts up all your favorite drinks.

“Ah! My best customers! I had a feeling I’d be seeing Earth’s mightiest heroes tonight.” You line up at the bar for whatever Jimmy decides you’re drinking tonight.

“Ah yes, two vodka on the rocks for my little Russian assassins. Sam here’s your vodka red bull which I don’t think you need, but here we are. Steve! Your drink of choice: an Old Style. Wanda, a cosmo for my favorite witch. And who do we have here, Y/N?”

You’re already both in hysterics at the old man behind the bar giving everybody a hard time. “Jimmy, this is my best friend Sarah. She’s visiting from California for a few days.”

“And whatever the lady wants can be put on my tab…” Steve butts in. Sarah immediately turns red but says “well in that case I’ll have vodka soda with lime please!”

Bucky has come up behind you and now you’re both laughing and watching the two of them stare at each other like no one else is in the room.

“Oh no, what did you do Y/N?”

“Let it play out, he’s not completely tripping over his words yet, maybe he’ll finally land a good girl.” You hush to Bucky.

Jimmy stares as well in amusement. “And you two? Your usual?”

“Yes’sir!” You shout over the growing music. Jimmy hands you each a jack and Diet Coke. You tell yourself it’s okay because it’s diet, but you know that’s a bunch of bullshit.

The other great thing about Bleaker’s? The dance floor downstairs. You always joke around that it seems like a nightclub that never closes in Amsterdam or something, but you’re serious. It could be 3 pm and sunny and you’d never know. It’s in the basement, it's always dark and the music is almost always too loud.

Usually that would gross you all out, but the energy tonight is pushing you all downstairs.

You reach back and grab Bucky’s hand not really caring who sees. It’s been months of sneaking around and either everyone knows and is playing it off like they don't or you’re really good at hiding it. Regardless, you’re over hiding. Maybe showing a little PDA tonight will get him out of his shell.

Sarah and Steve are no where in sight, assuming they’re ahead of you, you follow the team downstairs.

Minutes turn into hours. Everyone is dancing, laughing, sweating, screaming the lyrics to every song, and for a little while you can forget you’re a group of superheroes, and can just be normal 30-something year-olds.

You mostly dance with Bucky and quickly realize he’s a better dancer than you thought he would be. Those moves from the 1940’s must still be relevant in some way today, because the way he's grinding up on you and not caring if anyone sees just does something to you.

You work the room, finding Sarah, Wanda, Nat, even Steve for a song before you realize you don't see Bucky. You give it a few minutes thinking maybe he is in the bathroom. After 15 minutes though, you grab Steve’s attention and motion for him to check the bathroom while you check outside.

You race to the alley where you find Jimmy on a smoke break. “Hey Jimmy, have you seen Bucky? I can’t find him.”

“Oh yeah, doll, he took off in a cab about a half hour ago. Looked real flustered, but I didn’t want to press.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You thought you felt his mood shift about an hour ago, he was becoming stiff and quiet. You thought maybe he was just drinking a lot but now you’re realizing the loud music, strobe lights and base must have been triggering him.

“Ugh I’m such a bitch,” you huff as you send Steve a S.O.S text.

You: Hey, Jimmy said he just left. I'm sure he's heading home. I'm going to go find him.

Sire Captain Rogers: Go ahead. I think Sarah and I can find something to do while you find Buck. ;)

You: Yeah I’m sure you can.

You: BEHAVE. She’s my best friend.

Sire Captain Rogers: I know Y/N, don’t worry about us. Let me know when you find him.

You lock your phone and hop in a cab back to the compound.

No one is up or around when you enter through the front. The kitchen has been cleaned up, the dishes done. Probably thanks to THURSDAY, Tony’s beta bot for “cleaning up after you assholes trash the place.”

You smirk and head for the elevators. Heading straight to Bucky’s room, you can tell his light is on but something seems off. You don’t like to use your powers on friends or in the compound, but you close your eyes and reach out with your mind to find his aura. Your eyes snap open. You don’t sense him, you just see red.

Taking this as a good excuse to break into a friend’s room, you burst into the room to find it in disarray. Everything is toppled over, broken glass is on the floor, the bathroom light is on, but all you can see is his blood on the door and the floor. You’re panicked, trying to piece together what happened.

Again, you close your eyes and reach out for the familiar energy of Bucky. You find him in your room on the floor.

“What the fuck?,” you mumble and sprint up the stairs to your apartment. You shoot Steve a text on your way up.

You: Found him, looks like a bad one. I’ll let you know if I need you.

Sir Captain Rogers: Thanks Y/N. I’m just a call away, let me know if you need anything. Night.

Upon entering, you sense he’s in distress. His heart rate is elevated, he’s incredibly sweaty and is panting like a dog.

“Bucky? Buck, it’s me, it’s Y/N.”

Bucky stirs and jumps into a defensive standing position quicker than you can blink. You flip the lights on with a “BABE. Baaabe, it’s me. It’s okay, you’re safe. We’re in the compound. You had a nightmare.”

Bucky’s eyes are wide and alarmed, but you can tell the moment he recognizes you.

Rushing over to you, he takes you into a big hug. “Oh my god. What happened? Are you okay, did I hurt you?”

“No Bucky, no I just found you a minute ago. You had another bad one, what do you need me to do right now for you?”

Bucky stands back and rubs his swollen eyes. “I need to shower, can you help me?”

Typically, this is where it gets exciting, but you knew what he means. Water grounds him. He doesn’t feel like he’s falling in water. It helps him visualize the stress washing off of him.

You help him strip and get in the shower, but before you can even take his jeans off, he jumps in and pulls you in with him. You realize how desperate he is for whatever he’s feeling to pass and your heart sinks.

You’re both standing there, almost fully clothed holding each other. This is the worst you’ve seen him in a long time.

“I’m so sorry if I ruined your night, Y/N. The base sounded like the train, the lights looked like the machine they used on me, what the fuck.”

You aren’t sure what to do so you decide to sit on the ground and pull him down with you. You position yourself behind him so his back is in your chest. Even though he’s so much larger than you, he sinks down enough for you to reach over his shoulders and hold him.

“It’s okay Barnes, just breathe with me. You’re safe. You’re with me, and we’re home. Nobody is going to touch you. I’ve got you, you won’t fall.”

You take in deep breaths so he can match your breathing.

After about 45 minutes, the hot water is out in the tank. Bucky sits forward and turns towards you. You want him to lead right now, so you don’t say anything. Neither does he, but the look in his eyes are telling you something about tonight is different.

With a soft smile on your lips, you cup his cheek until he is really looking at you. “Hun, let’s go lay down, ya? Let me help get you dried off.” Bucky hates when you fuss over him, so when he doesn’t argue, you know to be extra gentle with him.

After getting him up and out of the shower, you think skin-to-skin contact doesn’t seem sexual right now, it feels intimate in a grounding sense, and you know that’s exactly what he needs right now. Bucky seems dazed, almost like he got hit too hard in the head. You yourself are of course a tad over-served, and are quickly realizing the adrenaline of this entire situation is rubbing off.

You get Bucky into bed and turn to make sure his phone is plugged in and that he has a glass of water, but he grabs your wrist before you can move away. “Just leave it, it’s fine.”

“Buck, just let me-“ he grabs your wrist harder.

“Y/N. Please just stay here. Please.”

The entire time you’ve been together, he’s done a lot of things but begging you for anything is not one of them. Suddenly the phone and whatever hell else you were doing doesn’t seem important anymore.

You climb into your usual spot next to him and decide maybe you’ll try to get him to open up. The moment the back of your head hits the pillow, Bucky is facing you. His pleading eyes seem like they want to tell you everything that’s going on in his head, but you know pushing him to talk will just make the nightmares come flooding back too soon.

Instead, you decide to lay on your back and pull him to lay on your chest.

“Just listen to my heart beat, Bucky.” You hear him take a deep breath and settle into your chest.

You start and stop yourself from trying to say something comforting. You’re terrified to say the wrong thing at such a crucial moment. Typically these bad episodes are reserved for a Steve house call. You realize as he’s settling into a comfortable position that he hasn’t asked you to call Steve yet. Bucky trusts you in a way you didn’t realize until now.

You don’t know when, but you start humming the first calming song that comes in your head.

I’ll be seeing you In all the old familiar places That this heart of mine embraces All day through

Bucky picks his head up to look at you. Oh fuck.

“Where did you hear that song?,” he says to you with shiny eyes.

“You sing it all the time when you’re concentrating. I looked it up and added it to my ‘bath time/relax’ playlist. I didn't know Billie Holliday was a favorite of yours."

Bucky was looking at you like maybe this was the first time he saw you, like really saw you. “My mom used to sing that around the house when she was missing my dad.”

“Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. I can hum a diff-“ you’re cut off with the most searing kiss Bucky has ever given you. He’s crying when he pulls back to look at you again. “Will you keep singing it?”

In that small cafe The park across the way The children's carousel That chestnut tree, the wishing well

By the time you finish the second verse, he has physically relaxed in your arms. You continue rubbing your hand up and down his back and shoulder, stopping to play with his long hair every once in a while.

I'll be seeing you In every lovely summer's day In every thing that's light and gay I'll always think of you that way

“I forgot how much I love hearing this song sung around me.” Bucky whispers so quietly you almost miss it.

I'll find you in the morning sun And when the night is new I'll be looking at the moon But I'll be seeing you…

You stop your caressing when you feel him sit up on one arm.

He leans down to kiss you but stops short to whisper “I love you Y/N.” You kiss him back and wrap your arms around his shoulders, and when you say “I love you too, Bucky,” you’ve never been more sure of something in your life.

[bestintheparsec]

As Does the Snow

Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: You and your neighbor, Frankie, get snowed in together. 

A/N: I wrote this down when the power was out while I was—you guessed it—snowed in. Nothing too deep/angsty in this (for once), just softness. Thank you for reading and I hope you like it!

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: none, some obvious tropes (snowed in, there was only one bed)

*Masterlist pinned to my page

~

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, prompting you to drop the pile of clothes you’re holding to answer it.

“Hey, Santi,” you answer the familiar friendly voice on the other end.

“You lose power yet?” he asks, slight concern in his tone.

“Just about an hour ago,” you reply, peering out the window. The sun’s still out, so you’ll be okay for a few more hours until it sets.

You’d all been expecting the power to go out, of course. The news has been tracking a seemingly out-of-nowhere snow storm that’s been headed your way, starting its impact a few hours earlier. You hadn’t expected to lose power so soon, though—it usually takes a lot more ice or wind to damage the lines. You’ve been preparing as best as you can for the cold nights ahead. With the lack of heat and power, it was bound to be a long night or two.

“You have everything you need, right?” he asks after a short silence. Santi and the other guys, most of them, live closer to the city and away from the countryside that you'd chosen to live in. With the way the roads are, everyone's been warned not to drive if possible. Not that there’s anywhere to go.

“Yeah, I always do—”

“Listen, I was wondering if you could go stay with Frankie during this whole thing,” he chimes in.

Frankie lives across the street from you—you’ve been good friends with him ever since you moved in years ago, even becoming a part of his group of ex-military friends when he introduced you to them, and you'd fit in like you’d always belonged there. It’s perfectly reasonable that Santi would ask you to go stay with your friend to hunker down during a storm. You would all stay with each other if you could, but seeing as that’s impossible and you and Frankie only have each other right now…yes, completely reasonable.

Fuck, who are you kidding?

What seems like a long time ago, you realized you had feelings for Frankie. And, by some luck—or not—you found out they were reciprocated.

But things don’t always work out the way you want them to; hell, it seems like things never do. At the end of the day, you both had wanted to pursue something more with each other, but life got in the way, just as it often does. You both had a lot going on in your lives back then, things you had to deal with and sort out alone. Ultimately—awkward conversations and deep talks and all—you’d both decided it was best if you simply stayed friends, lest things become overcomplicated.

And so you did. Despite this small history, things haven't really been awkward since then. He’s still a good friend to you, one of your best friends, really, and the subject hasn’t been mentioned again ever since.

Only, you haven’t really moved on. You haven’t been much good at leaving the feelings behind you, either. At first you just kept shoving them away, trying to convince yourself that you felt nothing at all whenever you were with him, nothing except friendly love for one of your best friends. But despite your best attempts not to, you found yourself slowly falling more for him. Being close to him for this long has made it even harder for you to move past it.

Not that you've addressed any of this again.

Had you sorted out the things you were dealing with back then? Maybe. But you’d both decided on what was best, years ago, and given that Frankie hasn’t brought it up again since, it’s likely he wants to keep things that way. Time tends to help some people to move on, where it drives the knife in deeper for others. Frankie’s been on plenty of dates since then, even a relationship or two. So you know you were probably just a momentary interlude in his love life, someone he stopped thinking about in that way long before you could ever even think about moving on. You're nothing more than a good friend to him now. And so you've kept your continued feelings for him to yourself, allowing them to thinly layer your friendship like a light dusting of sugar that’s never quite sweet enough to stand on its own.

But the thought of sheltering with him for a few days? You're not sure if you can keep your feelings contained if you're with him for that long and with that much free time to get lost in your thoughts. But given the seriousness of the storm, you were both bound to end up at one or the other's place, anyways.

You must have been silent for a little too long, because Santi speaks again, breaking your thoughts. “You can watch over each other, that sort of thing. Besides, you know how he can be…” he trails off, waiting for you to answer.

“I—yeah, I’ll go over there,” you finally agree, nodding to yourself. “I was going to check up on him eventually, anyways. I’ll go over as soon as I finish up what I’m doing.”

“Sounds good—let us know if you run into any trouble. We’ll find a way over there if we need to.”

You mutter a quick thanks and remind them to stay safe before hanging up, tossing your phone onto the couch with a resigned sigh. Moments later you pick it up again, quickly sending a text to Frankie to ask him if it’s alright for you both to bunker together for the night. Which he quickly agrees to, of course—you’ve spent many evenings over at his place, or his at yours.

Really, you don’t know why your brain’s suddenly trying to make this weird for you. You’ll bring some snacks and blankets, and it’ll be just like any other Friday night you’ve spent with him. Not weird. There’s nothing there (at least on his end) for you to feel awkward about.

You shake your head and finish your emergency preparations, trying to be done with it before it gets dark so you can head over to Frankie’s.

~

Exhaling deeply first, you ring Frankie’s doorbell.

“Coming!” His deep voice calls from inside.

You shove your hands into your pockets then change your mind, moving them to grip anxiously onto the straps of your backpack. Another few moments pass before you hear Frankie trod to the door. He answers it with a soft smile plastered on his face, the same one he uses every time he greets you. Immediately taking the bag you’re carrying off your arm, he beckons you inside and you follow, shrugging off your backpack.

"Did you need help with anything?" You ask, dropping your bag onto the ground and looking around the darkened place. The windows are covered, there's flashlights and candles out on the table, and a couple cases of water are stacked in the kitchen.

He’s layered up in clothing just like you are—a familiar flannel button-up peeking out from under his jacket. His hair is messy like he’s been running around all day, which he probably has been from the looks of it. If you had to describe it, he looks like...home.

Stop it, you mentally chastise yourself.

“Nah, I’m just making some final tweaks,” he remarks, walking over to pull the living room curtains shut. “The house is warm enough for now, but it won’t be long before it starts feeling like the inside of a fridge in here.”

He turns back to face you with a different sort of smile on his lips, a gentle expression you can’t quite make out.

Unbeknownst to you, Frankie’s been in deep for you, too. He knows you'd both agreed not to date, but over time he's come to greatly regret that decision. It was the right one at the time, but he can't help but wish things had gone a little differently. There’s no one he’d rather be around, and any and all dates he’s been on over the years have failed for the same reason—they’re not you. They could never be you.

Chances come and go, and his has gone. In more ways than one you’re a light in his life, someone he couldn’t ever deserve, and somehow he’s lucky enough to have you in his life at all—even if it’s just as friends. If he’s a better person now, a lot of it’s because you’ve been there to pick up the pieces, the same way he does and will always do for you without a second thought.

But something you can’t help him with is the fact that he’s fallen for you, hard, long after you’d both agreed to just be friends. And he keeps on falling.

He knows people change their mind all the time, but he’s been unwilling and unable to bring it up again with you. For all he knows, that agreement had just been your gentle way of telling him “it’s never going to happen.” He doesn't want to risk scaring you off and losing one of the best people in his life.

Frankie comes back to reality, watching you smooth out the front of your shirt.

“Okay, well, I brought some of my blankets in case we need to pile them up…” you say, pointing to the large bag you brought. “And since your stove is electric, it looks like we’ll be eating snacks for dinner.”

“That’s bold of you to assume,” he retorts, walking over to the kitchen. With a silly gesture, he proudly uncovers a large dish full of one of your favorites.

Frankie is certainly no chef, but he can put together a dish or two, even going out of his way to learn how to make the things that you both love. He puts a hand on his hip, amused by the surprised look on your face. “I made it before the power went out. They did teach us some things about preparation in the military, you know,” he teases, dimple on full display.

“And here I was packing junk food and sandwiches, like a loser,” you jest, grinning back at him. Frankie somehow always manages to make your life a little better. He beams and your chest constricts at the sight.

"Oh, we'll definitely need those for later," he reassures you with a grin. "If the guys were here that'd all be gone before the worst of the storm even hits," he adds, making you laugh.

Some of your favorite nights with Frankie are the ones that are completely uneventful, ones where you relax after a long day of work and binge your favorite snacks while watching some crappy movie on the couch. Then again, it's always the little things that make you happy when it comes to him.

~

Once you've had your dinner you both get comfortable next to each other on the couch, chatting about life and nothing in particular, the way you often do—minus the lack of electricity and a mostly dark room that’s barely lit up by a couple of small camping lights Frankie has. No doubt the other guys would make things a lot more chaotically entertaining if they were all here, but you’re happy it’s just the two of you now—even if it does make it harder for you to think straight at the moment.

Frankie says something that makes you chuckle and you look up at him, noting the delicate smile on his lips and the way it almost balances out the tired lines under his eyes.  He meets your eyes, and if he looks like he wants to say something else, it's probably only in your mind because he doesn't.

The wind outside makes itself known, rattling the windows in its wake. You're suddenly grateful you'd agreed to come and stay with Frankie. Although you’re lucky to have a shelter, these kinds of storms are best when you don't have to ride them out alone.

You also become hyper-aware of how intimate the moments you share with Frankie are. At the end of the day, you're glad he's in your life, even if it's not the way the younger version of you wanted. You still have him and he has you, and that's really more than you could ever ask for.

A chill suddenly makes its way through you.

"Are you shivering?" Frankie stops talking mid-thought to ask you.

"What? No, I—" He cuts you off with a chuckle and shakes his head, reaching down into your bag. With a quick movement he pulls a beanie on over your head, purposely tugging it past your eyes as you laugh and playfully smack his hand away.

"Watch yourself, Morales," you attempt to glare at him as you smooth down your hair, but fail to contain your smile when you see that goofy twinkle in his eyes.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” he concedes and raises his hands in mock surrender. The grin is still on his face as he moves to fix the beanie on your forehead. Another quiet chuckle escapes his lips until his fingers move away from your forehead, accidentally grazing along your cheek.

It’s not the chill that makes you both fall abruptly silent.

It’s almost as if the wind wiped the grins off your faces as Frankie looks into your eyes with an intense gaze. His hand still hovers along your cheek, neither of you seeming able to move. You’re suddenly grateful that it’s impossible for him to hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears right now. Your imagination must be getting the better of you again, because you almost believe that there’s something wistful about the look on his face.

But just like that, he drops his hand and you both avert your eyes.

“It’s, um...getting late,” you break the silence. “We better get settled before it really starts getting cold in here.”

Frankie clears his throat, nodding in agreement and standing to pile some blankets onto the couch.

“What are you doing?” you ask him.

“Um...you know I don’t have the guest room set up. There’s just the bed in my room. You go get cozy, I’ll take the couch.”

"What? I'm not gonna steal your bed, Fr—"

“And I'm not going to have you uncomfortable in my house,” he brushes you off with a wave of the hand. “It's fine, querida, really. You know I've knocked out on this couch more times than I can count." Your chest warms at the sound of his pet name for you. It's harmless, just something he's always called you. But for some reason it makes your face warm to hear it this time.

“No, I mean...isn’t it better if we share? I think the whole point is to keep our bodies warm. It’s easier to do that if we’re in one room.”

He finally meets your eyes again, holding your gaze as though there's more than one thing on his mind, then runs a hand through his disheveled hair.

“I...Are you sure? I really don’t have any problem with—”

You smile softly at him, trying to hide any indication of awkwardness in your tone. “Yes, Frankie, it’s fine. Really. Besides, we can stack all our blankets together this way.”

He smiles back. “I have a big, fluffy one we can use, too.”

~

All the remaining heat in the house has definitely dissipated now, leaving behind a frigid chill. It's bearable for the time being, but leaves your skin covered in goosebumps anytime you expose so much as a sliver of skin to the air. The last time you checked, the snow had already made a significant cushion to the ground outside, and was still going strong.

You've been in bed for an hour or two, huddled into a ball underneath several layers of blankets and refusing to move because it only makes you colder to shift the air around.

Frankie's asleep next to you—you assume he's asleep, anyways. Neither of you have said a word in a while, and with the pattering sounds of snow falling outside, you're getting drowsy yourself. Still, you haven't been able to fall asleep, not even when you jam your eyes shut. It's too cold, for one thing, and for another, it's difficult to ignore the fact that he is right next to you. It's a big bed and there's a decent space between you, but still.

You shift positions yet again, trying to wrap yourself tighter in your section of the blankets. You move to readjust one of the blankets that's gotten pushed away, accidentally bumping Frankie's arm in the process. You grimace, hoping you didn't wake him.

"Your hand is like ice," Frankie's quiet voice suddenly fills the room.

"Oh—Sorry. I thought you were asleep," you mutter back, your voice muffled by the blankets.

"No. It's hard enough for me to sleep even when there's not a historic snowstorm going on." He jokes, though you know it goes deeper than that for him.

Not really knowing how to respond, you remain silent. Rolling onto your side facing away from him, you tuck yourself further into the blankets before resolving to pull them up and over your head entirely.

Frankie's soft laugh rumbles next to you. "Seriously, your skin is frozen," he tells you. “You’re like the opposite of a space heater right now,” he chuckles and you can hear the grin on his face.

You push the blanket off your face, feigning a groan. “Freezing weather and a lack of heat lends to poor circulation, Francisco.”

"I know, I just…maybe it would…it might be warmer if we slept closer together." His voice is so soft that you can’t help but think how nice it would be to fall asleep to the sound of it every night.

When you don’t answer right away he quickly adds, “Or not—I wasn’t trying to...I didn’t mean—Sorry.” Frankie shuffles uncomfortably under the covers.

“No, you’re right,” you murmur hesitantly, barely louder than a whisper. “It...would probably help.”

A beat of silence.

Then you hear Frankie gently move his pillow over towards you, scooting himself in until you can feel his warmth against you. He doesn’t move again at first, you only feel his chest rising and falling against your back. But ever so slowly, he wraps an arm over you, the weight of him sturdy and comforting. You can tell he’s tense—hesitant—until you place your own hand on his, holding him closer to you. Feeling you make yourself comfortable must put him at ease, and he relaxes around you. Neither of you say a word, just lay there sharing each other’s warmth.

You’ve fallen asleep on his shoulder on some late nights on the couch before—things two normal, friendly people do, right? But you’ve never let yourself think too much about it. You can hardly help it now, reveling in the way you feel safe in his arms, fitting perfectly along the curve of his body. You are warmer, although some of it may be because of the way your pulse is just a little bit quickened. You wouldn't mind if you had to stay like this forever.

Frankie quietly exhales, his breath warm against the back of your hair. “Better?” he finally speaks, his voice gravelly and hushed, not much louder than the sound of snow hitting the window.

A pause. “Yeah.”

You feel him relax even more, burying his cheek a little more into the space above your shoulders. “Let’s try to sleep, then, querida.”

And just like that, Frankie Morales manages to make you fall a little bit more in love with him.

It’s then that you realize—it’s always been simple with him. Everything is always...easy with him. Nothing’s overcomplicated or messy; it’s just you and Frankie. It’s what drew you to him first, long ago. It wasn’t the outspoken openness that that others had, nor the confident resolve, but the quiet way he cares for you. The way he manages to always make you laugh, even at the times when it’s almost impossible to. The way he makes you feel so whole that you forget there was ever anything missing in the first place. That’s how he found his way, permanently, into your heart.

For Frankie, it’s always been you. You’re a grounding presence to him, someone who’s made him familiar with peace again over the years.

He lies there listening to the sounds of your breathing, sure that you’re finally fast asleep. He feels sleep coming over himself, too. He knows he’ll sleep a little easier tonight with you. He’ll weather anything when it comes to you. That’s how he knows, and convinces himself that once this storm business is over, he’ll tell you. For now, he lets himself follow you into slumber. His last conscious thoughts are of how he wouldn't mind having you in his arms like this every night, and if it weren't for your warmth lulling him to sleep, he might've confessed to you right then and there.

 ~

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[writing-in-lesbian]

Salvation in Disguise

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff / Female reader (platonic) Tags: angst, cursing words, minor assumed violence, mentions of homophobia, legal age gap. Translations: pozhaluysta = please. Synopsis: When Wanda is leaving Westview, all its habitants felt relieved, left to their own devices to rebuild their old lives and to never heard from Wanda again. Except for you. You were left with an important decision. Her spell and control over your family gave you an escape from their control and mistreats towards you. So when she's driving away, you had a few minutes to save your life.

You were at the park having a rare time for yourself. Your parents allowed you to go and walk around before you have to go back for lunch. A rare occasion indeed, since you were 99% of your time with your parents and siblings, despite being legally out of age and with a well-paid job. 

For some reason, that seems normal to all your neighbors, living at your parent's house feels normal, but to you, there’s something else. You can’t explain it but you feel something is not quite right, but since you have so much fun when you’re with them you don’t question the nagging feeling in the back of your head.

With the day off, you decided to take on Agnes' advice and try that coffee shop in front of the park. Has it always been here? You can’t remember seeing it before, but with so many things happening lately and your constant daydreaming you think it might have been renovated and you never noticed.

You ordered the special of the day a “dirty chai” (which is just a chai latte with an espresso shot) and an integral muffin (balance) before going back to the park to do your favorite activity: people watching. 

Choosing your favorite bench in front of the fountain, you enjoy your small snack hoping to see at least from afar your favorite person in the whole town. Wanda Maximoff. 

You don’t remember when they moved here, maybe you never paid any attention to the people around your hood, but when it came to her? It was unavoidable not to. You formed a good relationship after the twins were born, helping her babysit for a few days after Monica went back to her hometown. The boys grew so fast (almost in the blink of an eye) but they were your favorite ones to watch. You even like Vision (was it an odd name? Sure) despite he being the one married to your crush. 

You were so engrossed and lost in your thoughts you don’t notice Wanda running into the park. It’s not until you heard a loud crash you turn your eyes to the sky and see it.

Agnes. 

Floating up there in the sky and throwing what it seems flashes of lights.

And Wanda. Beautiful and innocent Wanda.

Floating as well.

You see a purple light go straight to her.

You drop your muffin and get up from the bench so fast. “WANDA WATCH OUT!”

You’re not sure if she heard you but before you can yell at her again that same light hits you square on the chest, sending you a few meters away and impacting your body against a lamp post. Everything goes black.

… … …

”I’m not a witch. I don’t cast spells. No one taught me magic”

“Your powers exceed that of the Sorcerer Supreme. It’s your destiny to destroy the world” … … …

You hear a lot of commotion, you grunt and try to open your eyes. Everything is dark, a red mist covering the sky. You desperately look around for Wanda. You have a horrible headache, it’s as if something trapped in your mind is trying to get free. You try to get up but your body refuses, managing only to sit up.

You hear Agnes's voice up above you and when you look up at the sky, Wanda is there, surrounded by the red mist. It looks as if it's coming out of her. Her previous red hoodie is now a red top, on her forehead, there’s a tiara.

Standing there open-mouthed you can’t help but appreciate her beauty and strength. Even Agnes (did she call her Agatha?) Is it a weird kind of purple robe? You hear the twins and Monica around you, you even saw a flash of something red and white flaying on the other side of the park but you don’t have eyes for anyone else but Wanda.

A big explosion surrounds you and the park. And then everything goes black again, but you’re conscious this time. You know you should go back home, you’re not sure what’s happening but you’ll probably be safer at home.

There’s this nagging feeling again inside your head. At this point, it might explode from the pain. Migraines are nothing compared to this, but you can’t move. You are glued to your spot. You can’t stop outlook out for Wanda.

Suddenly, the sun comes out again (did it ever went down) and everything is bright. You see Monica in a black and white uniform in front of the twins, Vision s there as well but he’s….red? (You. Might have hit your head harder than you expect it. Westview was known for weird shit happening but this is extreme). 

When you see Wanda again, you see her talking to Agnes, and right before your eyes, her clothes change, her angry and scared voice goes back to being the overly sweet lady you once knew. You stand up and run back home despite your mind screaming not to.

// // //

It’s past midnight when you feel it. You were awakened by this flash of light bringing you back from dreamland gasping for air. 

Your mind is racing 3000 miles a second. Memories of your life coming up to you. 

Being yelled at, hit and slapped, punished by the person’s that should love you no matter what just for loving another girl. 

Been kept against your own will at the house.

The constant verbal and physical abuse. 

The loneliness of being taken far away from your friends and your ex-girlfriend and going to live in the middle of nowhere town when you were 16. A town so small no one would even think about looking out for you here. 

The hopelessness of not being able to run away because your father was a retired high-rank government officer. 

You check your thighs and wrists. The fading scars are there. The ones where you cut to numb the paint make you forget and maybe the final one that takes you out of this realm. 

You remember one day being up in your room crying yourself to sleep when your headaches started. You were no stranger to migraines, but this was worse, so bad you wanted to vomit. 

You ran to your bathroom. Next thing you know, you were having family dinners and going on Sunday family trips. 

And you knew everything was related to Wanda. Things changed when she came to town.

Wanda, the park, Agnes (guess is Agatha know). You suddenly put 2 and 2 together.

Wanda.

You need to see her.

You know you need to run to her. She might be your salvation.

You think you probably have a few hours before everyone is starting to get up and getting their memories, but the noise coming from your parent's rooms tells you it’s not that much.

Throwing a few changes of clothes, the few money you had saved from your babysitting days, you take your bag and slowly and quietly make your way downstairs. If the clock is right is almost 3 am.

You reach the main floor when the door of your parent's rooms cracks. You hold your breath, praying to someone they don’t notice you. The bathroom door closes a few seconds later. You make your way to the living room, only noticing the one picture is there. You stand there, behind your parents and where they used to be your siblings, you see there’s nothing there. It was just part of whatever Wanda created for you.

You take the opportunity and open the living room window and jump through it. The main and back doors are locked at night and only your father has the key. One night when he left you outside all night after getting late 3 minutes after your curfew, you made sure to break the lock on the leaving room window in case of an emergency. They never opened it so never noticed it.

You see the bathroom light is still on. You count to ten before sprinting toward the driveway and towards Wanda’s house, hoping to find her. At this point, you’ll be happy to find Agatha or even Monica.

Before you arrive at her house you stop. You don’t even know if your theory is correct but at this point of your life, you’re ready to risk it. 

You get there and look for her house. All you see is an empty lot.

No house, no construction, not even the reminiscent of anything. You start to panic.

“No, no, no, no”

Your breath gets shallow and your eyes are burning from your tears. You look frantically trying so desperately to find a sign of her. Anything but there’s nothing.

“You shouldn’t be here… Y/N”

Her thick accent makes you turn so fast your neck hurts.

“Wanda” you say with relief in your voice. She’s taken aback, clearly not expecting it. Her eyes are swollen and her red outfit is nowhere to be seen. Instead, she’s wearing a black hoodie.

You take a step towards her but she takes one back. You stop. 

“What are you doing here?”

“I…”

You don’t know. You just wanted to see her. The night air is colder or maybe is just your nerves. You hug yourself in order to get some warmth into your body. Your pj’s aren’t exactly the warmest ones.

She sees this and conjures a thick jacket around you. When you say nothing she continues putting some bags into her car. A black and heavy-looking bag pack at her shoulders. 

“You’re leaving?”

“I don’t think I’m welcoming here anymore Y/N. You should go home”

It’s the panic of not seeing her again, of her leaving you that has you getting closer to her and taking her wrist, stopping whatever task she was doing.

“Take me with you”

“What?” Her voice is barely a whisper but in the silence of the night is so loud she might be well yelling at you.

“Take me whit you Wanda… please”

You don’t beg. Never. Not after learning at a young age it only brought more problems, your father never stopped if you begged, it just enraged him more, so you learn to never beg, for anything.

She sees your hand on her wrist and feels the emotions swilling around you. She dares not to look at your mind but your thoughts are so loud she can’t help to see half of the abuse you have suffered. 

A small gasp leaves her lips.

“Why do you want to go with me? I’m a monster. You saw it yourself”

“You’re not a monster. Not to me”

She’s still watching your hand. Your voice is just a whisper.

“I trapped you here”

“You freed me”

“I controlled your mind!”

“You saved me!”

“You... I… what?” She’s speechless, her nose scrunched in this little way you always thought cute.

“I don’t know the extend of what happened or how it happened, All I know is that my life was hell, literal hell and then you came into Westview and…”

“I should never have done what I did Y/N. You should be afraid of me”

“I’m not”

“Well you should”

You can tell she’s getting exasperated. Her eyes flashing red.

“Wanda… pozhaluysta”

It’s that little world in her native langue that has her seeing you for the first time this night. She sees your eyes and sees all the pain and anguish you have. She sees the same reflected in her eyes.

A plea in your eyes. You don’t see her as a monster or the Scarlet Witch. When you see her, she can see hope in your eyes.

She joined the Avengers and fought at their side to save people. The recent events after Thanos sidetracked her and blinded her. She was grieving and in pain… and did things she never thought of doing. Was she really what Hydra, Ultron, Agatha, and a lot of people said she was? Someone to be afraid of?

But you were here and as much as she just wants to grieve and is suffering, she has the chance again of being a hero. To make the effort and fight for once she once fought, to be worthy again, to make Vision sacrifice worth, to fight for the love she once felt.

“Okey”

The smile you give her is prof enough she can start again.

When Wanda left Westview and all its habitants, they felt relieved, left to their own devices to rebuild their old lives and to never heard from her again. Except for you. 

You were leaving with her, escaping from the real prison you lived before she came into your life and offered you your salvation in disguise.