#evil inside out two song

[dem0nunderthebed]

This is the evil inside out two song

Grab your friends and sing along

This is the evil since out two song

The dark side is where we belong

Hi I’m Evil Joy :)!!

I’m Sadness :(…

I’m Evil Fear

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

I’m Evil Anger >:(!!

DA DA DA DA DA DA

I’m Evil Disgust

Ew! Don’t touch me 🤢

I’m evil envy

Give me your hair 🥺

I’m evil Emabatesmen

Don’t stare

I’m evil envy

I’m Stille bored *{%]\ roll*

I’m evil anxiety

I want good no Marke

This is the e sip sind use out tie song

Hearn tiger feiend a and sing along

Theis is the beeil inside Rohr two song

The dark side is sheer ew r belong

Joy

Anger

Fear

Sadness

Disgust

Eneeee

Envy

Emabresmentn

Da They

This did the evil inside out two song

Grab your friends and didn’t Laing

Thai it’s the evil Sidney our two song

THEYS dark air Eis sneer eher sbojbf

[piano-sideblog]

This is the type of music TikTok engrains in my brain

[dancingbirdie]

Okay so on Astarion, I was reading this fic about him not knowing Tavs true intentions with him and it bothering Astarion a lot, so what if he goes to some mage or magic user and asks them to show Tavs true intentions to him, when he does the vision he sees is just... being snuggled. It's Tav on top of him and the both of you are falling asleep, his hands are under your shirt softly petting your skin as your sleepy self is contently snuggled up to him. I just start crying about him finding out that Tavs DASTARDLY and EVIL plan with him, their greatest desire from him... is to simply be held. 🥺

Hi @goblin-creatcher! Thank you so much for this BEAUTIFUL prompt. I, uhh, kind of took it and went a million miles an hour with it. This is honestly one of my favorite things I've ever written. I hope you enjoy it as well! xoxoxo

Something Imagined / Something Real

Word Count: 3.9K

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Astarion x f!Tav

Warnings/Tags: Brief but detailed description of rough consensual sex, descriptions and references to Astarion's trauma/trauma responses, minor Act 1 and Act 2 spoilers, FLUFF, angst

Suggested Song Pairing: Slow Dancing in A Burning Room (Stripped) - cover by ST LUNA

Summary: Astarion has been suspicious of Tav’s true intentions toward him. He persuades Gale to cast a spell and reveal her motivations. ANGST and FLUFF ensue. A rewriting of Astarion’s confession scene from Act 2.

The sun had just begun to set on the campsite when Astarion decided to put his plan into action. He had waited until Tav departed with some of the other party members before making his way over to the wizard. Gale was too busy reassembling the bookshelf inside his tent to notice Astarion’s approach. It wasn’t until he gave a polite cough that Gale jumped and whirled to face him. 

“No, no, no,” he began all at once, hands raised in a sort of shooing motion. Astarion stared at him in confusion. “I can respect Tav’s indulging in your need for blood, but as I’ve said before: I taste terrible.” 

Astarion scoffed. “Charming. Actually, wizard, I was coming to request your aid in a different, though somewhat related, matter.”

“Really? Care to elaborate?” Gale responded, still somewhat wary. It wasn’t often he found himself alone with the vampire. 

“Testy, I see,” Astarion crooned teasingly. His knee-jerk response to people treating him like a monster, to behave in the most false saccharine sort of way. 

But he drew up short, censoring himself before saying anything else he might regret. He knew he needed to get on the wizard’s good side if he had any chance of getting the answers he sought. 

“I was hoping you knew a spell to reveal someone’s true intentions. Their… motivations for behaving in a certain way, so to speak,” he finished more seriously. 

Gale pondered the question for a moment before answering. 

“Hmm… yes, there is magic to determine that sort of thing… Although it’s been some time since I practiced it…” He trailed off, rubbing his chin in thought. 

“Why are you asking for such a thing?” he asked suddenly. 

Astarion had been prepared for this question, of course. No one did anything for free, no questions asked. He delivered his explanation perfectly, as he’d been rehearsing in his mind.

“One might say our dear sweet Tav and I have been growing a bit… closer these days, but I can sense a master manipulator when I see one. I just simply want to ensure their intentions toward me - toward the party - are true,” he replied with mock innocence. 

“Ah, yes,” Gale nodded. “I gathered as much when the two of you slipped away from the tiefling’s party a few nights ago.” 

“But,” he continued on,”I needn’t think you should worry when it comes to Tav. She seems about as transparent as they come. I’m sure any intentions she has toward you are true.”

Yes, but the best actors always mask their motivations behind innocence and transparency, Astarion thought to himself. I should know. I’ve been doing it for centuries.

After the party’s unfortunate meeting with that Gur in the Sunlit Wetlands, Astarion realized he would have to take potential threats from Cazador even more seriously. He wasn’t about to lose his freedom, not now that he finally had some small taste of it. 

It didn’t hurt to be more suspicious of everyone he encountered, even the sweetling Tav. Anyone could be an operative sent by Cazador, and the best ones would be as skilled as he was in the art of manipulation. It was well-known at this point that the person he’d grown the closest to on their journey was their brave party leader, Tav. Unlikely as it may be that she was scheming for his master, Astarion’s paranoia wouldn’t let him indulge in interactions with her a second longer unless he knew how she truly felt. 

Given Gale’s hesitation, Astarion knew he would have to kick his acting up a notch. Press on that wizard’s heartstrings. Touch the one nerve he knew he was sensitive to.

“Gale, darling, from one literally damaged soul to another, indulge me just this once,” Astarion beseeched him. 

The wizard glared at him a moment, before finally relenting with a heavy sigh. “Fine. Fine. But I want it known that I don’t agree with this so-called solution one whit,” he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Yes, yes, noted and formally documented, on my word as a former Baldurian magistrate,” Astarion replied cheerily. “So, let’s hop to it then, shall we?”

“What, right now?” Gale asked, shocked. “Shouldn’t we be, I don’t know, a little less conspicuous?” 

“What better time than now?” Astarion responded. “Tav’s out gathering firewood with Wyll and Karlach. They won’t be back for some time. As for Lae’zel and Shadowheart, well…” he paused, gesturing over his shoulder. 

Said two were engaged in a heated sparring session on the outskirts of the camp. Snarls and curses could be heard emanating from both warriors as they tried, and failed, to gain the upper hand against their opponent.

“That lovers’ dance could go on until morning,” Astarion finished. 

“Fair point,” Gale admitted begrudgingly, grimacing at the sound of swords clashing violently. “Very well. Let’s get started.” 

Clearing his throat, Gale began to utter a series of phrases completely foreign to Astarion. He watched as the wizard began moving his hands in a wavelike pattern, forming a circle before them. Suddenly, a mist began to form from seemingly thin air, taking shape according to the boundaries Gale’s hands were creating. The mist grew more and more opaque until it appeared before them like a clouded mirror. 

As the fogginess of the ethereal magic began to clear, the “mirror” became a confusing blur of scenes whipping by, too fast for Astarion or Gale to really comprehend. There were flashes of Tav and Astarion, together and separate, but they disappeared too quickly to ascertain their context. It was as though the spell was shuffling through the entirety of Tav’s thoughts, assessing each one at breakneck speed. 

Finally, the spell slowed to a halt, stopping on one scene in particular. Astarion was struck speechless by what began playing out in the foggy portal before them. So distracted, he didn’t even notice Gale’s tight cough, or how the wizard suddenly became intensely interested in a copse of trees nearby, rather than the revelation the spell was revealing.

Not that the scene was especially profound, objectively speaking. In fact, to anyone else, it might be viewed as the least revelatory thing possible that the spell could have shown. Boring. Inconsequential, even. But to Astarion, it was almost earth shattering. 

He saw himself - he could see his face! - with Tav, lying tangled together in some immaculate four-poster bed. 

That was the first shock that coursed through him, nearly causing his knees to buckle. He was seeing himself for the first time in over 200 years. Or at least, he was seeing himself as Tav saw him. And… the person he saw… Well, he was gorgeous. White blonde locks, curled and tousled in a devil-may-care sort of way. A strong, patrician nose that suggested good breeding. High, sharp cheekbones. Full lips, upturned in a thoughtless grin. Red eyes bordered by long, sweeping lashes. Delicately pointed elven ears. Smooth alabaster skin, without blemish or spot. 

Astarion could scarcely believe his own eyes. 

The second shock to his system was the nature of their activities. He would have been less surprised had the vision shown them fucking. Him taking her roughly from behind perhaps. His name a cry of ecstasy from her lips as he pistoned in and out of her with a feral sort of determination. 

Fantasies of lust, of total domination, now those were things he was familiar with inspiring in the minds of the victims he had taken as lovers. It was what he strove for, in all honesty. Desire like that all but ensured he would capture his prey and live to serve another day for his master. 

But nothing of the sort was occurring between vision-Tav and himself. Instead, they were just… embracing? What in sweet hells was this?

She lay halfway on top of him. Her hair was mussed, perhaps from sleep or perhaps from previous lovemaking. One hand was drawing absentminded shapes across his chest, her lips trailing behind, leaving kisses in their wake. He watched as vision-Astarion chuckled softly, as his hands slipped beneath her sleepshirt to caress her waist, as he placed an innocent kiss on the top of Tav’s head. Eventually, she reached for his hand. They both watched their fingers intertwine, blissfully content.

It was the purest, unadulterated expression of affection that Astarion had ever seen. Something in his heart quaked at the sight of it. He wanted that moment. He envied, he hated, vision-Astarion for enjoying such apparent happiness.

So absorbed in the vision and its implications, Astarion failed to notice the soft padding of feet that indicated someone’s re-entry into the camp. 

“If the two of you are quite finished poking around in my head,” an angry voice suddenly spat from behind them, “I’d appreciate you preserving what little privacy I have left and shutting that damn spell off.”

Mortified, Astarion and Gale turned to see Tav, arms crossed and visibly seething with rage. Gale quickly dispelled the magic with a flick of his wrist. A blush was slowly but surely rising up Tav’s neck to reach her cheeks. Whether from rage or embarrassment, Astarion couldn’t be certain. 

“Tav, let us explain-” Astarion started.

“It was his idea-” Gale blurted at the same time, pointing at Astarion. 

Both paused, glaring at one another. But Tav would have none of their feeble attempts at backpedaling. 

“The explanation doesn’t matter. Whose idea it was doesn’t matter. The fact is that both of you violated the privacy of my mind, which I’ll remind you, has ALREADY been violated by having a bloody tadpole forced inside of it!” Tav shouted. At their words, the camp became enveloped in a heavy silence. Even the crickets ceased their chirping.

Astarion cringed inwardly, knowing the other party members could plainly hear this altercation and had likely stopped whatever it was that they had been doing to listen in. He noted the sounds of swords clanging together had ceased. He was certain Lae’zel and Shadowheart at least were aware of what was happening. Nosy bastards, all of them.

But what disturbed him even more was the realization that Tav’s eyes were welling with tears. She was too proud to acknowledge them or wipe them away. Such was her nature. But they were there nonetheless, and the knowledge that Astarion had brought her to the point of tears was enough to spur a rush of utter self-loathing inside him.

Without another word, Tav turned on her heel and marched stiffly out of camp, toward the direction of a nearby creek they’d identified as a water source earlier in the day.

“I can’t believe I let you convince me to perform that spell,” Gale said as she disappeared between the trees. He dragged his hands down his face. 

“How could we have been so doltish, forgetting that all of our privacies have already been violated with this tadpole business?”

Astarion didn’t have an answer to that. At least, not one the wizard could possibly understand. 

The thought hadn’t occurred to Astarion, he realized, because violations of privacy had been something so intrinsic to his being for over 200 years. He didn’t even recognize it as something abnormal. Like a fish unaware that the water surrounding it is, in fact, water. 

Violations of privacy were a part of life, at least for him. So much so that his request for Gale to perform that magic hadn’t even occurred to him as an overstepping of boundaries. To Astarion, it had simply been a matter of survival. He had needed to know another potentially manipulative person’s true intentions, and so he had found a means to uncover it and maintain the upper hand. 

Belatedly, he also realized that Gale’s hesitation to cast the spell had had nothing to do with being inconvenienced for the evening, but because the wizard had known that it was improper to do to another person. If he had misread that, Astarion wondered, then what other truly benevolent behaviors had he mistaken as pragmatic manipulation?

“I need to go find her,” Astarion murmured, clenching and unclenching his fists in an uncharacteristic fit of uncertainty. 

“Yes, you do,” Gale asserted. “We both owe her a sincere apology… if she’ll even accept it.”

“I’ll see if I can convince her to come back to camp,” Astarion replied, making to leave in the direction Tav had stormed off. 

“Wait,” Gale said, a hand on his shoulder. Astarion turned to meet his gaze. 

“Look, well, I’m obviously not an expert in healthy demonstrations of affection. But I do think it’s obvious from what you saw in that spell that Tav well and truly cares about you. In perhaps the purest way possible. Treat that carefully.”

Part of Astarion wanted to laugh aloud in utter hopelessness at the wizard’s advice. Someone cared for him? Truly and purely? No hidden games, no strings attached? Oh certainly, that wouldn’t be a problem for Astarion at all. Obviously, his 200-year existence as a master-manipulator-fetch-hound for a power-hungry vampire lord had perfectly prepared him to respond to this situation in a healthy manner. Obviously.

But all that was too much to reveal to someone he barely knew and too heavy to say aloud. Rather than giving some smarmy retort, Astarion opted instead to give a stiff nod and continue walking toward the edge of camp. He had no idea how he could make things right with Tav, but at the very least he could try. 

***

He found Tav sitting on a fallen tree near the edge of the creek bed. Her legs were drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around them as she rested a cheek to her knees. In the waning twilight, she reminded Astarion of some misbegotten gargoyle perched on the roof of a temple, solitary and so very sad. 

Her ears twitched as she noted his arrival. Astarion wasn’t trying to be stealthy. On top of everything else, the last thing he needed to do was scare her. 

“Can I join you?” he asked softly, wincing to himself at the awkwardness of the question. 

The reality was that there was no way to broach this conversation without some stilted beginning, and he hated it. Navigating tricky conversations was normally something he excelled at. But as he was quickly finding, when it related to Tav, nothing in his past life had prepared him to respond to her well. 

“If you’d like,” Tav answered tonelessly. 

Knowing it was probably the best response he was going to get, Astarion swallowed thickly and moved to sit down on the log next to her. 

“I… wanted to… apologize for what you saw, back at camp,” he began.

“Apologize for doing it, or apologize for getting caught?” Tav asked as she turned her head to look at him, resting her other cheek on her knees. 

Astarion balked at the question. Her piercing gaze unnerved him. He hadn’t really thought that far. 

“Both, I suppose?” he answered honestly, although it sounded more like a question to Tav. She huffed a laugh.

“You know, part of me really wants to yell at you. Scream in your face. Tell you off proper,” she mused.

“So why don’t you?” Astarion asked, perplexed. 

Tav didn’t respond at first, just sat there studying him. As if by staring at him long enough, she could project the answer into his mind. 

Astarion didn’t interrupt her, much as he would have liked to. Part of him always bristled when people gazed at him for too long. It was unfair that they could study him, when he hadn’t been able to so much as glance at his reflection in over 200 years. 

Finally, Tav released a heavy sigh, her body curling further in on itself. She closed her eyes as she spoke.

“Because then I would be just like every other bastard in your life who’s mistreated you.”

Astarion flinched in surprise. Those had not been the sort of words he’d been expecting. The truth of them cut deeper than had she raged at him like she wanted to. It left him feeling even more vulnerable, and that in turn made him want to retreat into the comfort of viciousness.

“I don’t need you to pull any punches,” he scoffed, glaring at her. “Go ahead and say what you will.”

She straightened up at his tone, opening her eyes and returning his glare. 

“No. I don’t want to,” she said testily.

“I don’t need your pity,” he hissed. “It’s insulting.”

“Gods damn it all, Astarion!” Tav exclaimed suddenly, causing him to jump in surprise. She threw her hands up in defeat. “I’m not doing anything out of pity! I don’t want to rage at you, because I know that whatever I say right now, I won’t mean it come the morning!”

Astarion blinked. Once again he was left feeling flat footed by the turn of the conversation. Sensing his surprise, Tav continued on with her deluge of words.

“You hurt me tonight, and I’m angry at you - and at Gale, for that matter - for what you did. But you’ve shared enough of your… history… with me, that I realize your behavior is just… just a byproduct of centuries of abuse and manipulation you’ve endured! And I won’t be another abuser in your life. I won’t,” she asserted. 

Astarion continued staring at her, as if she were some otherworldly creature that had just wandered across his path. He watched as Tav inhaled a deep breath, releasing it shakily. She turned away from him to peer out into the forest, uncertain. She opened and closed her mouth several times before actually speaking. As if whatever she was about to say was more intimidating to her than anything else she’d said tonight. 

“I… care deeply for you, Astarion,” she said quietly. “You obviously saw that in the vision. I’m not playing any games. There’s no hidden motive. I’m not trying to manipulate you.”

She turned to look at him again before continuing, her breathing a bit unsteady. 

“I didn’t sleep with you that night of the tiefling party as some sort of maneuver to gain your trust. Although I understand if that was your motivation for doing so.” 

Astarion’s expression morphed into one of guilt. But Tav nodded soberly, as if she had already expected it, before continuing on. 

“It’s okay. I’m not angry. But I’m putting all my cards on the table now, so to speak. Actually, your decision tonight forced my hand, but I had been planning on telling you soon anyway. So, there you have it. The truth of my intentions. What you do with that information is up to you.”

She turned back to gaze out at their surroundings. Like she was giving him the opportunity to bolt away without her watching him. As if she expected him to flee from her confession. 

But Astarion didn’t flee. He remained seated, staring at her in complete wonderment. 

“Why?” he asked quietly.

She looked back at him again, confusion evident on her face. 

“Why what?”

“Why do you care for me? You’re so… well-adjusted. And I’m well… this,” he finished lamely, placing a hand on his chest. 

Tav pursed her lips. “It would be a mistake to misconstrue my empathy for you as me being well-adjusted. Everyone has their own demons, Astarion,” she murmured. “Mine just look different from yours.”

Astarion mulled her words over in his mind, considering them. He leaned forward to brace his forearms on his knees, his head drooping slightly. 

“I…,” he started, unsure. “That vision… what it implied… You deserve something real, Tav. You’re incredible… truly.” 

Tav closed her eyes, bracing for the fallout. Even though she would accept his decision, whatever it was, she didn’t think she could bear to watch him deny her. It would hurt too much. 

“Look. When we met, I had a plan. A nice, simple plan,” he blurted all at once. Rising swiftly to his feet, Tav watched as he began to pace before her, near to bursting with frenetic energy. 

“Seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me,” he counted off, laughing half-heartedly. “It was… easy - instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in. All you had to do was fall for it. And all I had to do… was not fall for you… which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart,” he finished, stopping to stand before her. 

She held his gaze, speechless. 

“I want you,” he whispered fervently. “I want what was in that vision… I want us to be something real.”

Never in a million years had she thought he would respond to her like this. She opened her mouth to speak, but Astarion cut her off with another sudden exclamation. 

“I just don’t know what real is,” he confessed, his tone a touch hysterical. Tav knew from his body language that being this transparent was completely out of Astarion’s comfort zone. 

“Being… close to someone - any kind of intimacy - was something I performed to lure people back. For him. Even though I know things between us are different, being with someone still feels… tainted. Still brings up those feelings of disgust, and loathing. I… I don’t know how else to be with someone. No matter how much I’d like to,” he finished, staring at her with beseeching eyes, willing her to understand.

Tav rose to her feet, coming to stand before him. 

“I don’t want you for your body,” she whispered. “Or to perform any acts of intimacy. We can be together, without sleeping together, for as long as you need.”

“Really,” he asked softly, his voice pitched low, rough with emotion.

“Really,” Tav asserted, giving him a small smile. “Would it be all right if…” she paused, conflicted. He eyed her curiously.

“Could I hug you?” she whispered.

The fact that she asked before doing so caused a well of emotion to spring up inside him. Eyes watering, Astarion nodded. 

Slowly, Tav moved forward to wrap her arms around his waist. Her head nestled into the crook of his neck and shoulder. A perfect fit. He felt her exhale a deep sigh.

Tav hugging him was a sensation unlike any he had ever felt. At least, any he could remember feeling. The act of being touched, embraced, without any desire for something more. She just wanted to hold him, feel him close to her. It was incomprehensible to him, but utterly enjoyable, at the same time. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, Astarion raised his arms to return Tav’s embrace. Drawing her even closer, he bowed his head to rest his cheek against her hair. It was soft, like the finest silk. He closed his eyes as he inhaled deeply, appreciating her sweet, floral scent.   

She made to pull away after a moment, not wishing to overwhelm him. But Astarion gripped her more firmly, a silent urge for them to stay that way a little longer. 

“This… this is nice,” he whispered. 

He both felt and heard Tav hum contentedly in response. 

It wasn’t identical to the vision from Tav’s mind that he had seen, but Astarion reveled in their embrace nonetheless. It felt like the beginning of something new. And for the first time in his very, very long life, Astarion felt excited at the prospects of what would come next. 

[starsofang]

in which ghost is a ghost.

tw: nsfw, mdni, fingering, p in v, monsterfucking if u squint?? kind of and also yes

there was a ghost haunting your house.

all your friends called you crazy. they blamed it on your recent breakup, telling you that you weren’t used to living alone, that moving into a new house took getting used to. you didn’t agree.

there was no doubt in your mind that a ghost haunted your new home.

it showed in the way the floorboards creaked when nobody was there to step on them. or the icy draft that lingered in the hallways, sending chilled shivers down your spine. or the shadows that played tricks on you in the dark when you’d wake in the night to use the restroom or grab a glass of water.

you knew it wasn’t a figment of your imagination. the only explanation was a ghost. you just didn’t have solid proof.

things began to shift to something more strange the longer you lived in the house.

at night, you could feel prying eyes staring back at you from the depth of the shadows, yet when you’d look around, nothing would be there. or sometimes, the achingly familiar feeling of a fingertips caressing the skin of your ankle would coax goosebumps to rise on your skin.

whatever ghost resided in your home was increasingly growing more comfortable as time passed with you invading their space. they teetered on an edge, making careful calculations of their subtle touches as not to scare you away, while keeping you hooked with curiosity. really, you should’ve been scared, and you should’ve ran away.

that was precisely what went through your head when the touch of their hand would venture. beginning at your ankle and inching up and up every night that passed. it was a game between the two of you. they tested your limits while you threatened to further them.

it was dangerous, really. messing with a ghost who you had no clue if they were evil or not. demonic, even. none of that seemed to cross your mind when the touches soothed the agonizing ache of loneliness that squeezed your heart every waking day.

your curiosity was growing, though. you yearned to learn about the ghost who was tormenting the comfort of your home, to learn who kept you up at night with a racing heart and a lump in your throat. there was no harm in asking, right?

he didn’t speak much when you did. he told you his name was ghost, but that he remembered being called simon. how fitting ghost was, but how humanizing simon could be.

he remained a shadow when he appeared to you, masking his identity, one that you were unsure if it was a personal choice or he was stuck like that. regardless of it, you shouldn’t have grown attraction to it.

of course, you did. who could blame you? you had learned the name of the ghost who had been haunting you for months, touching you, teasing you. it was hopeless. there was nothing to fight, nor did you really want to.

it was the exact reason on why you ended up with your legs spread, the chill of the room and ghost sweeping over your skin as if being dunked in ice water. a ghastly hand was pumping its way inside of you, fingers curling into that spongy spot you can’t quite reach with your own, wrenching gravelly moans from you that filled the air with song.

it became a nightly routine of yours. ghost fucking you with his fingers, freezing to the touch, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you until you were a weeping mess on the bed, riddled with blissful exhaustion.

then, his fingers became his cock. it was strange, fucking a shadowy ghost that had muddied features you couldn’t make out. you didn’t know what he truly looked like, but you imagined he was as rugged as his voice in the most handsome way.

his cock was much more intoxicating than his fingers. he fucked you with a goal in mind, and that was to take and take from you until your energy had transferred to him. he was sucking away bits of your soul with every long night of coming with him buried inside of you, making up for it with ghostly kisses on your skin once you were burnt out.

things were evolving into dangerous territory. having sex was already dangerous, but now, he was becoming possessive.

if you had a guest who was a male, he’d cause a poltergeist like a pouty child. throwing books off the shelves, knocking over glasses and shattering them on the floor, whispering taunting threats in the ears of your guest. his aim was to have them running out the door and never come back, and it always worked.

what did you think this was? you let him claim you. ghost or not, you were his, and you’d be confined to this house just as much as he was.

[free-my-boy-grumbot]

“ohhh i’m so tired of love songs i wish people would write more original stuff” literally listen to lemon demon. some of his song topics include

Ronald Reagan fights his evil shadow self

Guy is trapped inside an evil arcade machine that kills people

You can do what you want to your body! dye your hair! get that tattoo! pull your teeth out! stick screws in your eyes! rip your arms off!

disgraced scientist is disgraced

I forgor 💀

Guy died and a bunch of cool haunted shit happened and it was really spooky

Please date me i’m a really nice ghost i mean normal man

I’m eating a corpse and it’s soo tasty and homoerotic come join me

ohohoho i am a Creature

well you probably know what two trucks is about

[missnightshade]

❝ I WILL REMAIN, LOVE ❞

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Requested: Yes!

Summary: Lilia's trial ends with an - almost - irreversible consequence for Agatha's lover.

Warnings: Hurt/comfort. Almost death experience. Mentions of blood, blades and death (aka Rio). Non canon. English not being my first language.

Word count: 2k and something.

The path narrowed as the Coven walked through it. Looking forward at the long-haired witch that had your heart, you felt that Agatha no longer held the confidence she once had while summoning the Witche's Road. Both of you knew, for sure, that the whole song was a catch. A nice, petty, centuries old trap Agatha created in hopes to gain enough power to bring Nicky back.

A witch’s life was never easy. Just as the world was a malleable cruel thing, so was the days that these powerful women had to go through. Things changed between almost four hundred years back and now, walking this makeshift magical road. Nothing was as it used to be. Yet, Agatha was the only constant in all of the eras of your life. One that didn’t need a real label for you to know that, no matter what happened, it was the two of you against the world.

As the time passed and your legs grew tired, your attention shifted to the teen boy. It wasn’t needed for Agatha to tell you that she, too, was suspicious he was the one manipulating all of that. Agatha was powerless, and you knew it wasn’t you. Jen, Alice and Lilia were powerful, but not enough to bend reality to fit their own agenda.

But Teen, or Billy, emanated strong ancient magic. It was applaudable how the seams between his mind and the reality were almost unnoticeable

“He doesn’t know.” you guessed, falling into Agatha’s steps as the rest of the coven stayed behind, carelessly discussing something trivial.

“What gave it away, love?” she smiled, but her mind was far, far away.

“He got himself deadly hurt. He would have to be insanely dumb to trust one of us would cure him.

“Maybe he is just a dumb boy...” Agatha started out playfully, but seeing your serious face, the shine in her eyes died. You hoped for it to come back. “I know. And this makes...everything harder.”

You felt the witch rambling inside, wishing to measure the weight of explaining her worries, but as she opened her mouth, a cold, sickining body passed between the two of you, harshly separating your shoulders. Rio's sinister smile echoed inside your mind, like she could indeed penetrate herself there. As the sharp blade of hers slid down the middle of her tongue, evil, inviting, you felt the path ahead tuneling before you.

“I see you in the next trial, Y/N.”

And right there, towering in front of both of you as Rio skipped happily towards it, was a dim lit castle with its imponent tower screaming at you. Your steps halted, and Agatha almost bumped into you. You couldn't notice as Rio’s aura still held you hostage there, but your partner, your companion, your constant, eyed you as if she could actually force you out of the road. She knew, you knew, but no one dared to say a thing, afraid of the consequences.

Inside the castle, the clothes changed drastically, almost as you were in a disney witches' reunion. A table of tarot reading stood in the middle of the room, and as Teen rounded the corner, Lilia stopped there.

‘It’s my trial. I should read it.”

There was no questioning, but as the first card was laid upwards on the table, a sharp sword crashed down right by your side. Arms full of worry pulled you in, and your body rested against a scared Agatha. Her heartbeat was rapid against your touch, but as you glanced at RIo, she was nowhere to be found. The celling, full of swords, was just now noticed as the trial’s count down began, lowering above the coven’s head.

“I think we need something more...” desesperadly, Agatha took the deck of cards from Lilia. “Imediate.”

She started to lay cards as if her life depended on it. And, at some point, it did. But card after card, mistake after mistake, more and more swords fell. Some not around you, but mostly too close to be safe.

“Agatha!” Teen screamed, stopping her. “It’s not by chance. This has to be done right.”

The deck of cards was, again, in Lilia’s hand. Even though she managed to find out who the reading reading was for, as the last card was placed and the celling stopped lowering, a heartless, mounstruous sound erupted around the room. Agatha looked behind, breathless, pushing you towards the exit that popped open.

“The Seven are here. Hurry. Everyone out!"

Lilia intended to be the last one out, but as Jen pulled her, there was only you, teen, and Agatha behind. You didn’t notice, but a quiet, sly snake rounded the corner of a pillar, morphing quickly into one of Agatha’s old nemeses. The scare made you tremble, steps a mess as you tried to block down an attack with your own powers. A flash of light sent you and them apart, and as the snake met the side of a blade, you met the other, both fallen from the trial. The sharp pain erupted, but looking behind, Agatha was as surrounded by another four of them. Lilia screamed something that only Teen managed to understand, and as he blasted both of you out, the main card was turned upside down, in time only for him to jump out of the door before the whole trial turned and screams of impaled witches were heard.

The instant died down. Nothing besides agitated breaths could be heard between all of the coven members. You, on the other side, could barely hear anything. Agatha’s voice calling for you was far away, and although you tried to answer, you choked in blood, the taste of the ironed fluid filling your mouth.

“What?” Teen asked Alice, who stared at him like a ghost was right above his shoulders. As he held you still, the protection witch could only point out to your own body falling against Billy’s, pale face, coughing blood till your whole figure hit the floor.

Agatha eyes were shining with tears. The leaves from the trees in Salem that spring were vivid, but not like her eyes. At that time, you couldn’t bring yourself to say something as deeply as “I love you” to the Harkness heir. And as your death seeped into your whole existence, the fear of losing her friendship felt...ridiculous. Her tears fell onto your body. Pierced through with Evanora Harkness’ magic for simply being her daughter support, you were sure that there was no better reason to die.

“Please, Sunshine. Stay with me. It will be okay.” Agatha cried and cried, cradling your body into her arms. Holding you for her dear life, your body slowly became more and more heavy against her lap.

“Shh..Aggy. Don’t cry.” you asked, voice barely above a whisper. There was no physical damage, but your insides rotted by the minute. “This is honestly the best option to die. In your arms, you know?”

She scoffed, trying to pull your head up as if a miracle would happen. She was not only sad and griefing but also mad and frustrated.

“Don’t be stupid. You’re not going to die.”

You regarded her tiredly, too tired to even speak. But you knew that there was no way death would collect you before Agatha was sure it wasn’t her fault. And how loved she was.

“Aggy...this is unfruitful. We both know it.” you swallowed your desperation to part ways with the living world. “Just hear me out, Angel. You were the best, best thing I could have in my life. I love you. I’ve always loved you. Don’t forget that. I would die a thousand times in your arms.”

She blinked, tears falling onto your forehead. Last time, your voice grounded her as her own magic saved your from death. But now, as Rio appeared again, there was nothing from you besides the blood that ran to the floor from a large perforation you suffered from falling against the tip of a sword without even noticing in all that commotion. Agatha blamed herself again. You were on the road because of her. Because of her restless search for power. Looking at your pale face and shallow breath almost dissipating, she felt for the first time in her life since her son’s birth that she didn’t need any magic if she could, perhaps, keep you.

“You know you can’t.” Rio’s voice echoed, but as the witches around your lifeless body moved around to recreate the spell used on Billy, Agatha stared at her. “You walked hand in hand with me for so long, Agatha. You, above anyone, should understand how life and death works.“

“Don’t!”, the witches voice screamed back, and the strength it held made Rio stop marching forward. “She can’t die. It’s not her time.”

“But it is.” death answered, showing her half skull face only Agatha could see. “She gave you everything. Her time has been completed.”

“No!” she didn’t plead. Tired of all the centuries serving as a cunt to give her more and more bodies even after having her son taken from her, it felt unfair. “That’s enough.”

Agatha didn’t waste another minute there, succumbing to Rio’s words. She cried out for Jen. Vulnerable, broken, the coven fell into a rhythm of trying the ritual over and over again, but not only the moonlit water fell onto your body, but also your partner’s tears as she was left disheveled from pleading to the Mother to keep your life. It was a side of Agatha Hakness no one had seen. No one besides Y/N and Rio. Yet, as the hole on your body closed, no one exactly knew what would be of you. Rio stood there, overing your body.

“She will be alright.” Teen reassured Agatha almost three hours later, giving her some of the berries he found on the road.

She wanted to curse him for putting you into that situation, but then again, the Salem Seven were her fault. A moment passed as your body was kept close to the fire. On the sidelines, Death eyed you, protected by Agatha’s love, something that she despised you for. The blue eyed witch gazed at you.

“You care for her.” Lilia said, voice flowing with the wind. “Like you never cared for anyone.”

“Just one person, besides her. My son.” she smiled sadly. It was the first time mentioning him, but the truth was just as painful as the current reality. The coven, her found coven, listened to it. “And Y/N helped me navigate all of that. Back from Salem to now. But this is not the first time i almost killed her.”

“If you are going to talk about our story...” a faint, tired, almost really dead voice startled them. Rio had disappeared again, but Y/N’s eyes flashed from her place on the floor. “At least wake me up.”

The others laughed tearfully, relieved, but as Agatha rushed to your side, still a mess of hair, tears and dried mud, they gathered the fire away from them.

“Y/N...sunshine. I’m...”

“Don’t, love. Don’t even think of it.” the maimed witch intercepted, reaching out just one hand to touch her left cheek. Her thumb caressed her face. “I’m here. And I'm not going anywhere. It's not easy to free yourself from me.”

“And i don’t want to.”, her lips pressed against your forehead, kissing it before pecking your lips. “I’m sorry I keep drowning you into my mess. This is unaceptable.”

“Aggy. Please, stop.” even laying down, you could still command her with those sweet eyes. “It’s not your fault.’

“But...”

“No buts. Now, come here.”

As you gently pulled Agatha down, her arms were protective around you. Your body still ached, but as your heartbeat fell into the same rhythm of Agatha’s, there was no doubt you would survive. With your head on her chest, your heavy eyes fell onto the image of the coven exchanging a cup of water they found. Behind them, the shadow of Death blinked slowly at you, turning her back before cutting Billy’s reality to step out.

It wasn’t over, but the worst was.

"I love you." Her voice hummed against your hair.

And you would do all over again for her.

[emmcfrxst]

Hear me out… lil blurb of old man Logan and reader just slow dancing together to find comfort, despite all of the evil going on around them 😭

okay so i got carried away and tweaked the prompt a little bit. this is fluff with a spoonful of angst. little more than 900 words. reader’s gender/characteristics are not specified but it’s implied that you’re shorter than logan. putting the drabble under the cut as to not clog the tags <3 inspired by lyrics from The Mountain Goats’ song Sax Rohmer #1

The soft melody of the rain outside harmonizes with the dull buzzing of the old, beat up fridge you’re leaning against, a glass of water cradled between your palms. Your gaze falls on Logan as he walks through the front door, droplets of water gliding down the exhausted lines of his face. He says nothing as he sheds off his suit jacket, eyes lingering on you for a moment before he cocks his head to the side, an eyebrow arched in question.

“Couldn’t sleep?” his voice sends pleasant tingles down your spine; the rich, raspy quality of it enveloping you with his every word. You wish he’d speak more often— you would love nothing more than to drown in the depths of his voice, but Logan is a man of very few words, and you’ve long since made your peace with the realization that not much could ever change that part of him; and you wouldn’t want to, either. Your relationship with him may be complicated at times, but you remain certain of the depth of your feelings for Logan— you’ve come to love him as he is, not interested in trying to modify the results of over two centuries of pain and loss; his past is part of who he is, and you love that person wholeheartedly.

“Was waiting for you.” the softness of your tone seems to reflect the look in his eyes as he steps forward, clothes leaving a trail of droplets behind. Your eyelids flutter lightly once his hands are on you, curling around your hips like they have done so many times before— it’s been years of living by his side, but his touch still manages to set your insides alight with the kind of trepidation that one feels for their first love. You move forward until your chests are touching, rain quickly saturating the shirt you’re wearing— one of his; an older, more tattered one you’ve held onto all this time, as if needing proof of your shared past. You wrap your arms around Logan’s neck, tilting your head upwards so your foreheads can meet in a tender press, his beard tickling the top of your lip. Up close, you can see the array of new bruises making their home on his handsome face, a frown downturning the curve of your lips.

“M’okay.” he mumbles quietly, already expecting you to point it out— these days, you find that you don’t really have to say anything anymore, whether it be from the synchronization of your souls or your lover’s dismissal of any and every concern about the changes in his physicality; Logan has a way of soothing your worries away with a tender brush of his lips on your forehead, sincerity enveloping his tone like a warm blanket on a cold day. He knows his limits, and after a series of tearful confessions between the worn out sheets of your shared bed, he knows not to push them too much so as to not upset you. Nodding in response, you let your nose rub against his, comforted by the fact that he will tell you about the events that led to the purple blooms across his skin all in due time— it would end up being a group of drunks like usual, anyway; a small pack of testosterone filled idiots emboldened by the alcohol and refusing to pay for the services Logan offered them. Nothing I can’t handle, he would add afterwards, cradling the side of your face with a tenderness very few people have ever seen the great Wolverine exude. You’re okay with pushing all of these thoughts to the side for now, anyways— focus on him, because he kept his promise to you again today

I’ll always come home to you.

“Dance with me.” your lips brush against his as you whisper out your demand, making Logan raise one eyebrow at you playfully.

“There’s no music.” he states as if that was obvious— because it is, but under the dim lights of the kitchen, here with him in this moment, you can’t bring yourself to care. A soft chuckle leaves him when you shrug lightly, your lover’s head tilting down to give you a proper kiss; the first one since he arrived a handful of minutes ago.

“Doesn’t matter. Just wanna feel you.” your explanation makes his heart ache, idly wondering if he would survive the tearing open of his chest in an attempt to gift you the appendage— it would be worth the pain, and there is no one else he would die for like the way he would for you. It belongs to you anyway, he thinks serenely.

“Alright.” he ends up saying, voice laced with layers upon layers upon layers of tenderness. He takes a moment to memorize the way your eyes light up at his acceptance, wanting to take the visual away with him were he to meet an untimely death the next time he steps through the threshold of your front door— he wouldn’t go down without a fight, but he’s old and tired and aching and although he denies it when it comes to you, he knows his body doesn’t heal the way it used to; there is a chance, every time he leaves for work, that he won’t be able to keep his promise of coming home to you, but he will try anyways— would come home with blood pouring out of his mouth if it meant getting to hold you for one more night. You make it worth it. You make him want to live.

You rest your forehead on his shoulder, body swaying along with his as he kisses the crown of your head in silent reverence.

Tomorrow may not be guaranteed, but none of that matters tonight as you wrap yourself around him, dancing around the kitchen in the moonlight, anchoring him with the steadiness of your heartbeat and giving him something to fight for for a little longer.

[a-998h]

hi could you do a yandere Adam,Lute,lucifer and Charlie x kid reader who is struggles with being social and keeps to themself(platonic of course)

ok, so for some context reader is a heaven/hellborn child.

Adam

He's known about you for awhile

If we're following bibical sources he and Eve did have children, and Adam did mention "all of humanity came from this fucking nuts!"

So, you're not the first child he's dealt with

When the elder angels were making you, he saw glimpses and fell in love, even more if you look similar to human Lilith or Eve

When the elders were looking for an angel to act as your mentor, Adam jumped on the chance

At first, he was excited to bring you to all these fun things

Soon, your clashing personalitys make it hard

Though, the more protective he gets over you he uses it to his advantage

Does not try to make you more social

Uses you inability to be social to keep you close to him

Hates when you keep to yourself, he wants you to talk to only him and maybe Lute

Teaches you that you are better than the beings of Hell

When Charlie and Vaggie arrive for the trial, he keeps you away

Frames the Extermination in a way that casts Heaven and himself in a good light

Teaches you how to fly

Frames Lucifer and Hell as pure evil

Keeps you from every getting too social with people who aren't him and Lute

Frames Eve in an innocent victim

Makes you think he's the best guy ever and that Lute is a hero

Lute

She is a bit like you

Adam had important meeting so he left you with her

You two don't really bond right away

She acts like your bodyguard, seeing you as something highly important

After many months of babysitting, she becomes like an overprotective mom

Keeps you away from things that she thinks are bad for you

Looks for ways to make you just social enough for a child

Like Adam, wishes you would tell her things

Uses somewhat harsher ways to make you open up

Helps you with boundaries in relation to everyone else

Also frames Hell, Lucifer, and Vaggie as evil that deserves to die

Makes sure you never question how badass and heroic she is

When Charlie and Vaggie are in Heaven for the trial, she keeps you away

She thinks even looking at them will corrupt you

You're her innocent baby and no one can change her mind

think of the Brooklyn 99 meme with Risa and her puppy Arlo, yeah that's how Lute feels about you

Charlie

How you end up at the hotel doesn't matter

What matters now is that Charlie has taken the roll of "mom"

She introduces you to everyone

But, the violence of Hell and the Extermination makes her worry about you

Keeps you inside as much as possible

Loves for you to be more social

Is clingy with you

Keeps you far away from anyone or anything that could hurt you

Will sing songs with/to you

Is happy you're hellborn

You being hellborn means you can't leave her

Will use her power and status to keep you from moving out

Doesn't matter what demon type you are or which ring you come from

Keeps you as far from Alastor and the angels as she can

Might bring you around Rosy, only sometimes

Loves whenever you're open with her

Wants you to be friends with the "nicer guests"

Will be extra happy if you bond with your "second mom" a.k.a Vaggie

Lucifer

When he first meets you at the hotel his mind goes "My beautiful grandchild"

Bonds with you

Claims you help his depression get better

Spoils you rotten

You're his only grandbaby, he loves you

Makes you a custom rubber duck

Is just as protective as his daughter

Makes you pancakes whenever you ask

Tells you about how wonderful Lilith is

Helps you make your own rubber ducks

Tears up in sadness when you're not open with him

Your shyness at first makes him think you hate him

Tries his best to make you open up more, with help of course

Gives you a thumbs up when you're more soical

Doesn't care about your class or demon type

Will defend that you're his grandkid

[proqhetic]

Could you write your head canons for what dating Lottie would be like? Sorry it’s basic this is my first time requesting 😅

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ ꪆৎ ˚ ⋅ dating lottie matthews hcs

cw: nsfw at the bottom, blood

when your relationship is just starting out, i think lottie would be extremely shy or reserved

i don’t think she has a lottttt of experience (compared to say jackie or nat), and she’s always kept to herself more, so she’d be extra cautious about not messing this up or making you uncomfortable in anyway

trusts you with the “weirder” sides of herself that she’s usually too embarrassed to show around others and you only love her even more for it

she’s so cute WAAAJSHAHSKFHAGJ

will do the pinky thing when she wants to hold your hand where she just lightly pokes your hand with it before you just full on take her hand in yours 😭😭

“lottie, we’re already dating. you can hold my hand.” “i just— i wasnt sure!” she defends herself while grinning, taking your hand in hers

her main love language is definitely gift giving!! she’ll gladly shower you in gifts and presents everyday if she knew it would make you happy

if you mention in passing about an expensive pair of shoes you’ve been eyeing for a while now or a funko pop of one of ur faves just dropped, expect to see it nicely wrapped in a bow on your bed by the next day <3

expect her to go ALL OUT for valentine’s day, christmas and your birthday in terms of surprising you with presents and parties.

matching halloween costumes are also on the agenda

cannot cook to save her life this point should just be canon (will try to cook breakfast in bed for you and fail miserably)

sleepovers at her house after soccer practice!!! you’d sit on the bleachers and watch her during practice with heart eyes like those cheesy high school movies while you wait for her

so. many. forehead kisses. (that height difference mmm)

light sleeper — (esp pre-dating) frequently wakes up in the middle of the night and has trouble falling asleep. your presence alone has been such a help,, she’ll have an arm wrapped around your waist or fall asleep tucked into the crook between your neck and shoulder while u play with her hair > <

but the second you crawl up to pee in the middle of the night you come back and see her awake and staring back at you all groggy and pouty hhjshdjehs

asks nat how to create a mixtape just so she can create one for you with all the songs that remind her of you

slips you those stupid post-its in class with the checkboxes that are like

“ hey.. i think ur pretty cute :) date tn? ▢ yes!! ♡ ▢ no :( ”

even though it’s been like a good few months into your rs

⚠️ — nsfw

secretly a freak but wbk… let’s be honest here!!!!

loves whispering the filthiest things in your ear when you guys are out with your friends just to see you get all worked up and flustered

that paired with her evil grinnn oh when her fangs poke out MMMMNNCMSBV i’m going insane

speaking of fangs… biting your lip/neck until she draws blood (vampire!lottie you will always be famous)

sooo whiny. non stop whimpering. even draws them out because she knows how much hearing her turns you on

needs to build some confidence around you and get over that embarrassed start but could definitelyy be the dom one if she wanted

sleepy sex is her favourite >_< waking up to two of her fingers already inside you as she greets you with a drawled “good morning babyy” and a chaste kiss as she adds a third finger in

[ididdedurmom]

More evil head cannons

I have silly ideas about the gang after the event of the story, everyone lives, except Bob

PONY:

Has a thousand yard stare when he zones out

Has the loudest, most disgusting, mucus filled cough ever

Actually really good at drawing

Has drawn every member of the gang at least twice

Loves physical touch, he leans on his friends when their sitting next to him.

Actually screams during horror movies, like loud genuine screams

Loves play fighting with Darry, like full on wrestling

Steve taught him how to drive

He either walks like a ghost or stomps, there is no in between

He can play one song on the guitar, and that’s it

His legs are super strong, so his kicks hurt really bad

He would be better at track, but his smoking habits hold him back

He feels jealous of Soda and Darry because they had more time with their parents

He and Darry have matching reading glasses

SODA:

He says “I’m just a girl” anytime he gets in trouble

He has used his pretty privilege to get out of being arrested multiple times

Despite how handsome he knows he is, he still feels super insecure about his looks

He steals from the DX station constantly

He and Steve spend hours gossiping about their customers once both of their shifts are over

A dog bit him when he was a kid, now he’s deathly afraid of them

He loves physical affection, hugging him is the best way to cheer him up

Absolute candy addict

Candy is the #1 item he steals from the DX

He broke his dominant hand once, and now his handwriting is permanently ruined

He reads insanely slow and monotone when he reads out loud

He either sleeps like a rock, or wakes up from the slightest sound, there is no in between

He lives in his flannel, that thing hasn’t been washed in literal years

He suffers from middle child syndrome, he knows his brothers love him, but they don’t pay enough attention to him

DARRY:

He hates his jobs, he knows he has to go but he can’t stand them

All of his coworkers are old and they treat him like a child (which he’s kind of okay with in a way)

He loves watching cartoons but he feels like he’d be wasting his time

He sneezes like a dad

He wakes up at 4 am and works out immediately

Loves compliments and words of affection

Doing favors is his love language

He has the whitest legs ever, he’s all tan on the top and snow white on the bottom

His tan ends where his pants start

Small bits of his hair are grey, he doesn’t know

He has a fear of abandonment

He is insanely flexible for a man of his size, like he can touch the floor standing up with ease

He hit a dog with his car once and cried for 2 hours straight

He loves cuddling on the couch with his brothers, it helps him relax

He despises Curly Shepard, he’s civil with Tim, but he HATES Curly

When he comes home from his ski trips with his old friends, he actually looks his age

A woman once assumed he was Pony’s father, and it made him die inside a little

He can’t stand Mother and Fathers Day

He was mad at Steve when he found out he taught Pony how to drive

TWO-BIT:

He and Dally bond by harassing women

He has a box full of things he’s stolen

His slight alcoholism stems from his father

He let’s his sister paint his nails, and he shows them off proudly

He gets his nails painted before rumbles

He watches soap operas with his mother every night

He can play the trumpet

He has never purchased a pack of cigarettes, only stolen

He listens to metal

When he passes Johnny’s house, he has to actively stop himself from walking in and beating Johnny’s parents half to death, especially his father

Its not that he doesn’t want a job, I mean he doesn’t, it’s that he thinks he’d only mess up whenever they had him do

He constantly forgets to brush his teeth

Pop and beer are the only things he drinks, he doesn’t touch water

He religiously wears Mickey Mouse merch, you will never catch him in a plain shirt

Baby Pony and him got along really well, he was kinda like Pony’s goofy cousin

Two-Bit and Darry have been friends since they were little kids

Two has no plans for his future, and it weighs on him

He broke both of his elbows once

His teachers have kinda given up on him, they just treat him like a bother instead of a student

STEVE:

He messes up Pony’s hair every chance he gets

He uses the most hair grease out of everyone

He has had the same comb for 3 years

He constantly smells like oil

The underside of his nails are always black, no matter how much he washes his hands

He and Soda have matching scars from a shared failed attempt to climb a barb wired fence

He is terrified of the police

He and Soda make your mom jokes at each other, despite neither of them having mothers

His voice is scarily deep when he wakes up

He and Two-Bit have an inside joke no one in the gang understands

He, Soda, and Two-Bit all have matching stick and poke tattoos

He hates his father, and by extension the fathers of Johnny and Two-Bit

He and Dally don’t hang out much, but when they do they are absolute menaces

Dally and him steal cars and hub caps together

He is genuinely upset by the size of his nose

JOHNNY:

He’s dyslexic

His handwriting is atrocious

His best subject is math

He and the gang all picked out stickers to put on his crutches

He loves sleeping around his friends

His hands are rough

He can’t stand the smell of beer, unless it’s one of the gang

He and Curly hate each other for literally no reason

Pony has slowly been teaching him to read better

No matter how much grease he puts in his hair, it won’t stay back

He hates going out in public because people always look at him funny

He hates looking at his burn scars

He, Dally, and Ponyboy watch sunsets together

He either sleeps at the Cutis’s house, Two-Bit’s house, Steve’s (very rarely), or Dallas’s place.

He’s not allowed to sleep in the lot anymore

He has tons of freckles, you just can’t see them against his skin

He loves sleeping outside when he wants to

He never wants children, he’s to scared he’ll become his father

His pain tolerance is so high that sometimes he won’t even notice when he gets injured

He likes how defensive Dallas is of him, makes him feel confident

He smokes marijuana with Dally sometimes, he’s super anxious when they do though because he doesn’t want to get arrested

DALLY:

He will not talk about his feelings

The cops forced him to go to therapy, it didn’t fix anything

He is amazing at lying

The police know him by name

He hasn’t told the gang much about the past other than where he came from and that he doesn’t talk to his folks

Darry nicknamed him “Rat”

He actually feels bad when Darry yells at him

He gets sun burns very quickly

He has his own personal stench

He doesn’t want Johnny to end up like him

He cried for 3 hours straight when he found out Johnny was still alive, it is his most embarrassing moment

He chugs drinks insanely fast

He can’t read very well

He needs glasses but he thinks he’d look like a wimp if he had any

Even though he knows he could have an asthma attack from coughing to hard, he still doesn’t carry his inhaler

He was happy when he thought he was going to die

Then he woke up and had an epiphany about life, it didn’t do to much, but now he knows death isn’t the only option

He proudly shows off the burn marks on his arm

He loves pushing Johnny around in his wheelchair

He listens to outlaw music and Frank Sinatra

He loves horror movies

He toned down his bad behavior once he got out of the hospital, he’s still a dick though

That’s it or whatever. I hope you like them, I’m sorry if some of them don’t make sense. I’m just so silly. I apologize for my horrible grammar lol. Feel free to tell me some of your head cannons!! :D

[boyfiejay]

Forever with you

PAIRING : Idol! Park Jongseong x gn Reader

GENRE : hurt, comfort, fluff

Warning : jay almost collapses, they are overworked, he cries, short appearance of Jungwon

Word Count : 1.1k

Author's Note : this has been on my mind for so long, i just had to write idol jay. Also he is just very lovesick and loverboy coded here, its just me projecting what i want my man to be like 😋

Jongseong loved being Enhypen's Jay but he loved being your Jongie just as much.

Enhypen have been travelling around the world, holding concerts in countries they haven't visited and meeting fans that supported them since i-land. And although he loved meeting his fans and the thrill of it all, he missed you.

He missed you so much, he felt like he was going insane. It was overwhelming for him to experience such a strong desire to meet someone.

He had been homesick before, he had wanted to meet his mom out of the blue many times but it was something that could be easily forgotten if he drowned himself in work. But he never thought that being away from you would hurt so much.

Even when you two were in the same city, you wouldn't get to meet everyday. But there was a sense of security knowing he could visit you anytime he wanted. But now that he was thousands of miles away, it made him feel lonely.

At first the concerts had been a piece of cake, the excitement overpowering the exhaustion. But as months passed and the exhaustion started becoming more unbearable, all of them were constantly on edge, getting irritated easily and snapping at each other.

Today he felt particularly needy, he wasn't the over clingy type but today he wanted nothing more than being wrapped in your arms. Your soft fingers grazing his cheeks and looking at him in a way that made him feel giddy inside.

He wanted you.

Jay felt beyond exhausted, the worst he's felt in the recent weeks. He was trying his best to not snap at anyone, but today he was too tired to care about how rudely he talked to Jake. Or how he glared at Sunghoon for simply coughing too loud.

Moreover everyone was walking on eggshells around him, he didn't miss the way Sunoo scrambled to turn off his phone when Jay glanced at him. Everyone looked like they were hiding something.

He didn't put much thought to it, and although worn out, tried to give his best on stage.

Jay felt dizzy. He almost collapsed a little before their last song and was strictly ordered by Heeseung to rest for a bit. His manager was refusing to give his phone, concerned that Jay might see something he shouldn't on the internet.

But Jay didn't care about what people thought at the moment, all he wanted to do was talk to you, hear your voice as you would worriedly ask him if he was fine.

Soon after the concert ended, they went straight to their hotels. They were supposed to have dinner with everyone, but Jay looked extremely pale, so the idea was scratched.

And now he was sitting in his hotel room – which he got all for himself – freshened up and staring at his phone, wondering why you haven't replied to his text from earlier.

Much to his disappointment, there was a knock on the door. Before he could even grumble about who it was, the door was pushed wide open by Jungwon.

Any other time, Jay would've been thankful that it was Jungwon and not the others. He was just easier to talk to, and he really didn't want to bicker with the other currently. But right now, Jungwon had the evilest grin on his face, maybe not evil but the point stands.

"What is it?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper. At his question, Jungwon's grin widened, "Nothing, can't I just come visit you?" he said, voice dripping with fake innocence.

Jay gave him a look, they both knew that Jungwon was up to something so why was he beating around the bush?

"Okay fine, since you've been working so hard, i wanted to give you a gift." he said, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

He pulled someone from the hallway, making them stand beside him.

Jay couldn't believe his eyes, were you really in front of him? Your lips stretched to give him the widest smile, the prettiest one he's ever seen, as he claims.

Before he could realise, he was walking towards you, his body working without command. As soon as he was close enough, he was pulling in a hug. Your arms circling his shoulders as he pushed his head in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent that he's missed so much. He didn't even realise when Jungwon had walked out the door, shutting it after him.

It was suddenly dawning on him, you were really here. You travelled such a long distance just so you could meet him, did you miss him just as much? Jay knew the answer to that.

His eyes started to water as he hugged you tighter, oh but you have no idea of how much he's missed you. Your hands caressing the back of his head, letting his tears wet your shirt.

You pulled out of the hug, still pressed against him. There was that look again, you looked at him with so much love, like he painted the night sky and put stars in it. Your eyes slightly wet with tears as you took in his form.

He lost so much weight, eye bags under his eyes. His eyes were bloodshot due to the tears, but you had a suspicion that they were already a bit red.

But he still looked handsome as ever, even with tears running down his cheeks.

You thumbs wiped away the tears, he nuzzled his cheek in the palm of your hand, his bigger ones coming up to grasp at yours. He was scared that this was just a dream and he was going to wake up to an empty room.

Almost like you read his mind, "I'm here, I'm not going anywhere, alright?" you whispered "I missed you so much."

"You have no idea how much I missed you." he said, voice still trembling as his other hand on your waist pulled you even closer.

In the quiet of the room, the two lovers embraced each other. In that moment Jay realised that you were the one for him, the one he was willing to spend his life with. He wanted to wake up to see your beautiful face, cook for you, take you on fancy dates and all the cringey couples stuff.

It hurt him that he couldn't be with you, that he had to travel around the world and stay away from you for so long. He felt like the shittest boyfriend, but the way you mumbled 'I love you' against his lips, made him realise that you would stay by his side forever.

[springgirlshowers]

You’re A Dream, A Burning Star

Summary: A small musician at a venue in Berlin catches Joosts eye, after speaking to her, neither would never expect the next few months to be so intense.

Pairing: Joost Klein x Fem!Reader

WC: 8016

CW: drinking, shitty boyfriends, kissing, yelling, arguing, actually proofread for once, tbh this whole fic is a rollercoaster of emotions…strap in

A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON WHO REQUESTED THIS!!! this has probably been the most fun one to write n my longest fic yet, hope it breaks your heart and mends it all at the same time <3 *songfic heavily inspired by this evil ass song*

Sometimes while traveling, Joost would like to go out to smaller venues and watch other live shows of performers he’s never heard of.

The one he was going to tonight, he had already had a show booked there tomorrow night.

He just wanted to get an idea of what it would be like inside, sure he saw the photos of it, but he always preferred seeing things in real life.

The line up tonight was two opening acts, then the main one at a small venue and bar.

The first opening act was your name. He thought it was pretty. As he stood to the side, beer in hand. He watched you enter the stage, obviously nervous.

A pretty face to match a pretty name.

You talked kindly yet a bit frightened into the microphone. You were a bundle of nerves, apologizing for your awkward and nervous behavior, and explained that you were still getting used to these crowds.

He thought it was cute in a way, it reminded of himself when he was just starting out as well.

You talked to the crowd in between your songs. Asking how everyone was feeling and how their night was going, earning cheers from the crowd.

Joost watched as your eyes darted around the crowd as you sang, not in a way of you were trying to let everyone have your attention, but in a way of you were searching for someone.

Eventually your eyes gave up looking and you closed them instead, staring at the crowd for too long would make you even more nervous.

Joost felt like you casted a spell on him the way he couldn’t take his eyes off you. The way your lips moved as you sang sweetly into the mic, the way your hands moved so smoothly across the strings on your guitar, the way you swayed back and forth, how your eyes glistened in the light.

You had him in a trance.

After your short set was done, you exited the stage in such a polite manner. Thanking the crowd repeatedly before grabbing your guitar and case in an organized manner.

Joost would spend the next twenty minutes trying to find you. He knew it seemed a little weird to see you on stage and spend the rest of the night looking for you, like some obsessed fan.

But something in him was aching for him to talk to you.

When he found you, you were leaning against a back wall, watching the end of the second opening act.

Joost came up to you and suddenly he felt as nervous as you looked on stage.

You squinted your eyes at the blonde man for a split second. You had seen him from somewhere.

“I just wanted to say you did amazing on stage. It’s like you casted a spell on the crowd.” The validation made you smile.

“I’m not sure if they were really there for me, I was just the opening act.” You gave him a small shrug in response, too nervous to keep eye contact for long.

“A good amount of people seemed interested. Me included.” He nodded reassuringly.

“That’s very sweet of you to say, but I need to work on my stage presence, I’m moderately good at it.” You let out a nervous laugh.

“I wouldn’t say that.” He said blankly.

“What would you say then?” You questioned, tapping your fingers on your glass.

“I’d say you're exceptional.” A grin slowly took up your face, making your eyes shut and cheeks blush, you looked away.

“That’s a bit of overstatement. I messed up on my third song.” You shrugged, looking down at the cup in your hands. You’ve never gotten so many compliments in a single minute, in your mind you had to double down and keep yourself humbled.

“I didn’t even notice. I thought you sounded perfect.” He said blankly, unbothered.

“That’s very sweet of you…uh, you haven’t told me your name yet.”

“I’m Joost.” He looked puzzled as your jaw dropped, eyes lighting up.

“Now I know where I recognized you from! I’ve heard of you!” You pointed at him.

“You have?” Joost looked at you with wide eyes.

“Yeah, I heard your little song that you did with that guy with the goggles.” You giggled and made a gesture to your eyes.

You were so nice. Joost was praying that was the only song you heard by him and not any of his other popular ones with…suggestive lyrics.

“Yeah, it’s getting pretty popular isn’t it?” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. God, you were so sweet. He didn’t want to mess this up.

You looked at your phone again, seeing if there were any new notifications for a text from your boyfriend. There was nothing. You let out a dissatisfied breath and turned it off.

“Are you alright? Are you waiting for someone?” Joost asked as you shoved your phone into your pocket.

“Uh, yeah. My boyfriend said he would show up tonight but I haven’t seen him. I’m wondering if he even bothered to show up at all.” You muttered your last sentence out, still looking around to see if he was there.

Joosts heart fell to his stomach. Of course a pretty girl like you would have a boyfriend. You were talented, kind, and gorgeous. Who wouldn’t fall in love with you?

He stayed silent, giving you a sympathetic frown.

“Anyways, is that why you’re here in Berlin? Your song?” You pipped, changing the subject in hopes to get rid of the knot in your stomach.

“How do you know I’m not from Berlin?” He teased, narrowing his eyes.

“You have a different accent. You pronounce words differently. Plus, we’re talking in Dutch. I’m guessing either you’re from Belgium or the Netherlands.” You shrugged.

“Netherlands.” He nodded, your eyes lit up.

“I knew it! I’ll be there in a few months actually!” You exclaimed happily.

“Really? For tour?”

“Oh not for that. It’ll be over by then.” You waved your hand. “A label in Amsterdam reached out to me and I think I’m gonna take the offer.”

“That’s amazing!” He exclaimed, his face filling up with joy, then he cleared his throat. “Is your boyfriend moving with you?”

Your happy expression faltered, looking down at your drink nervously.

“Um, well he doesn’t think he can. With work and all, but we’re just gonna do long distance.” You pipped, though you tried your best to put on a mask of happiness, the hesitation in your voice was obvious.

Before Joost could get a word out, a male voice was calling your name from the crowd.

A slender man appeared, black hair and tall but shorter than Joost. He ran over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

Speak of the devil Joost thought to himself, assuming this was your boyfriend with the way you looked at him.

“Hi sweetheart, I’m so sorry I got caught up with…stuff.” He attempted to give you a kiss on the lips, you accidentally moved your head in time for it to land on your cheek. “When do you go on?” He nodded to the stage.

“My set ended twenty minutes ago, Leon.” You said softly, the hurt and gloom prominent in your voice with your pouty face.

“Really? I thought you didn’t go on til later?” He said surprised, Joost could see through his act.

“I texted you the time I would be going on.” You trailed off, rubbing your arm for comfort.

“Are you sure? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you stranded.”

“It’s fine.” You said sadly, “I’ve already made a friend, this is Joost!” You gestured to Joost. Leon quickly took a protective stance, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close to him.

He was oblivious to the way you tensed up, Joost wasn’t however.

“Hi.” Joost gave a tight lipped smile, feeling the tension in the air.

“Joost makes music as well! He’s been doing it longer than me though.” You pipped, trying to continue on the conversation, slightly leaning away from Leon’s touch.

“Yeah, that’s great. I’m gonna go get a drink, do you wanna come with me?” Leon looked down at you.

“Oh, I’m fine right here. I already have one anyway.” You said happily, unbothered. Leon let out an annoyed breath.

“Why don’t you just come with me.” He spoke, more of a demand than a suggestion. You repeated your first previous sentence and shook your head. Leon removed his arm from around you, grabbing onto your upper arm with his hand, attempting to pull you with him.

“Come on, lets go.” He sounded like an angry father.

“I said I didn’t want to! I’m fine right here, Leon.” You shouted, wriggling your arm out of his grasp.

“Fine, whatever.” He muttered something else as he walked away. You rubbed your upper arm, ignoring the red fingerprints from how rough he was.

“He seems like a jerk.” The words were leaving Joosts mouth before he could realize. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be judging your relationship.” He blinked repeatedly and shook his head, as if he was trying to shake away what he said.

“No, it’s fine. He’s just a bit stubborn and short-tempered sometimes.” You sighed. “So what brought you to this place?” You changed the subject again, wanting to move on.

“Oh, um, I'm performing here tomorrow night, so I’m just getting an idea of what it’s like here tonight.” He shrugged.

“That’s so cool! Maybe I’ll show up and see you.” You suggested, Joost felt anxiety fill him up. His music was the complete opposite to yours.

“Oh no, you don’t have to, I don’t think you’d like mine. It doesn’t seem your style.”

“How do you know? I like trying new things.” You narrowed your eyes at him, playful look on your face.

“Fine. You know what, I’ll get you a backstage pass too so you’re not stuck with the sweaty crowd.”

“I’d like that a lot.” You laughed, the butterflies in Joosts stomach started fluttering again.

Noticing that Leon was taking a bit long to simply order a drink, you craned your head towards the bar, he wasn’t there. You pulled out your phone to text him.

Where’d you go??

Went back to my place. I got to work early tomorrow.

“What happened?” Joost asked, looking at the frown that appeared on your face.

“My boyfriend left. He was supposed to be my ride home.” You scoffed and shook your head in disbelief. “I’ll just take an uber or something, that’s how I got here.” You sighed.

“I could drive you.” Joost blurted out. “I’m not drunk at all, I promise. I’ll walk in a straight line if you need me to.” You chuckled at his offer.

“I’d really appreciate that. I’ll give you some money for the gas you waste on me.” You half jokingly said, already reaching for your wallet. Joost waved a dismissive hand.

“No, no. You don’t have to. You won’t be wasting anything. You can pay me back by showing up tomorrow.” He cut off your protests.

“Deal.” You smiled.

Joost made you let him hold your guitar case as you left the bar, he put it in the backseat of his car. He opened the door on the passengers side for you, which was much more than Leon ever did for you.

The drive to your house was awkward, a bit silent, the only noise being the robotic voice telling the directions to your place on the GPS.

When you reached the parking lot, before opening the door you stopped and turned towards Joost.

“Do you want my number?” Joost nearly choked on his spit at your question.

“W-what?” He sputtered out.

“Do you want my phone number? So you can text me when you’re going on.” You suggested, “Plus, I’d like to be friends too.” You nervously mumbled.

“Are we not already?”

“I just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page.” You shrugged playfully. He grinned and grabbed his phone, opening messages and letting you type your number in, sending a text so you got the notification on your phone.

“Alright, sweet!” You said happily, stepping out the car, then leaning down a bit to look at him in the driver's seat.

“Thank you, a lot. For being so nice to me tonight.” You said, eyes looking around nervously.

“Yeah, yeah of course. You deserve it.” He praised, your cheeks went red and you looked down. He was giving you all the validation no one really ever did. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow, Joost.” You smiled and closed the door, waving at him as you walked to your apartment. Joost waited until he saw you enter your place and knew you were safe inside.

He couldn’t wait for tomorrow night.

You were definitely surprised by Joosts music style. You’d only heard one song of his in the past so you didn’t really know what the rest of his would be like.

It was strange seeing him out there, drinking beer on stage and moving around and singing like a madman as you watched from the side. Was this the same sweet guy you were talking to last night?

You didn’t mind however. His songs were catchy and you liked how he didn’t care about how crazy his stage presence was.

It was funny how you both caught your audience's eyes in different ways.

Joosts music was very hyper, fast, danceable. A microphone and a good DJ was what he used. It got the crowd jumping and chanting with him as he ran around on stage.

While yours was the complete opposite. Your music was a bit smoother, softer, flowy. You had your guitar and a sweet voice. The crowd swayed and mouthed along while you sang and stood on stage.

Joost exited the stage after lots of applause and repeated thank yous.

You felt a bit jealous of Joost, he had a bigger and definitely more interacting crowd than yours. You were grateful for what you got, but there was a small wanting inside you for one like his. Interested and excited. You knew it probably took a while for him to get here, as it does with all artists.

Hopefully one day you’d get a crowd as loud as his.

He ran right up to you, covered in a layer of sweat and chest heaving.

“What’d you think?” He asked, still catching his breath.

“I liked it, I think.” You both laughed. “It’s very…loud. Very crazy. But that’s a good thing, you know how to keep everyone entertained.” You complimented him, it was his turn to blush.

“Crazy. I like that.” He nodded proudly.

You walked over together to an empty spot behind the stage. A fold up table, a cooler of beer and different canned drinks sitting next to you.

“Do you want a beer?” Joost offered, you shook your head, telling him you already had a few.

“Well I’m gonna have more.” He laughed and pulled one out the cooler.

“Did it take you a while to get this big? Like with your career?” You spoke out, he looked at you confused.

“Well, kinda. I already had a small social media following before I started making music. So that helped.” He shrugged, taking a sip. “Why do you ask? Are you worried about yours?” It was like he could read your mind.

“Yeah, a bit.” You looked down at your feet. “I’m just scared I’m never gonna get where I want to be. Like I won’t be good enough for this stuff.” You frowned, Joost did too. He set his beer down on the table behind you.

“Hey, don’t say that.” He spoke softly, he brought his hand up to your chin, lifting it with a hooked finger for you to look at him. You breath hitched at the sudden gentle contact.

“You’re good enough. More than good enough. Exceptional. Remember?” You rolled your eyes at his words, he moved his hands to cup your face. “I’m serious! You’ve got an amazing voice. You’re gorgeous, talented, and kind. That’s the type of musician that this world needs.” His words made you smile and blush uncontrollably.

You muttered a small agreement and looked at each other. His eyes were so beautiful, though they were hidden behind his glasses, you could see the gorgeous shade of pale blue they were. It felt hypnotic.

Before you knew it, he was pulling your face to his, kissing you. You were caught off guard, still for a minute. Then you relaxed.

For a moment you pushed back into the kiss. Finding comfort in his lips against yours and his hands holding your face, you rubbed your hands up his chest as you kissed him back. Mouths parting and eloping each other's lips so passionately.

This was wrong. As you draped your arms around his neck Joost knew it was wrong. You had a boyfriend and he kissed you anyways. He couldn’t help it. You were so soft against him. You kissed back. It was pleasurable for the both of you, but it wasn’t right.

Then realization set in of what you were doing, you quickly pulled away.

You looked at each other, both a bit shocked and breathless.

“Oh…Joost. You’re very sweet but I already have someone. You know that.” You admitted as you let out a nervous breathy laugh.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I got a bit ahead of myself.” He quickly apologized.

“It’s okay. We’re both just drunk and being silly.” You giggled and shook your head.

Joost felt the opposite. He didn’t feel drunk at all, he didn't feel silly. He wanted to do that. Maybe it was a little impulsive, but he wanted to kiss you.

“Yeah, my adrenaline got too high. It was just a..” He let out an embarrassed laugh now too. Looking away and running hand through his already messy hair.

“Heat of the moment type of thing?” Your words were meant to sound like a statement, it ended up sounding like more of a question.

You were both lying. Neither of you were drunk. You both enjoyed it. You both wanted to do it. You both meant to do it. Just guilt and embarrassment got in the way.

“God, I'm sorry. W-we can just act like this never happened.” Joost told you, rubbing a hand down his face.

“Yeah, yeah, we can…” You trailed off, you still hadn’t moved your arms. He caught the way you were still gazing at him, eyes flickering to his lips once again.

You cleared your throat and removed your arms from him, crossing them awkwardly.

“Uh, do you need another ride home tonight?”

“Leon’s picking me up, he should be here soon actually.” You shook your head, the guilt starting to become obvious on your face. “I think I’ll just wait outside for him.” You quietly moved past him, looking at the floor.

“I can wait outside with you, for your safety.” He gulped. You turned to him, the corners of your lips slightly curling.

“Are you trying to be my guard dog now?” You joked.

“You could say that, plus I need my after-show smoke.” He shrugged, you scoffed and rolled your eyes playfully. Then waving a hand for him to come along.

As the night got darker the weather got colder, you stood outside the front entrance of the bar as you waited next to Joost. You took in a shaky breath as another cool gust of wind hit. Crossing your arms over each other, feeling the goosebumps.

“Are you cold?” Joost noticed, tilting his head.

“Just a bit.” You tried your best to act unbothered by the wind and what happened a few minutes ago. Joost took off his zip up jacket without a word, holding it out to you.

“No, no, you keep it. I don’t need it.” You waved a dismissive hand. Joost sighed.

“You’re shivering.” He raised his eyebrows at you. You shook your head once again. “Please. I'm still warm from the performance, I'll be fine.” He reassured you, you gave in, taking it and putting it on.

The jacket smelled slightly of cigarettes covered up by fruity cologne. It smelt like him. You felt so comfortable in it then any other clothes you’ve worn.

Joost finally lit his cigarette that had been hanging from his mouth, praying the taste of tobacco would overpower the taste of you in his mouth. It did, somewhat. The taste was still lingering on his tongue.

He made sure to blow smoke in the opposite direction of you, where the wind was going so you wouldn’t get a cloud of tobacco in your face.

You zipped the jacket up as you continued to wait, rubbing your fingers over the rhinestone skull design on it. Smiling.

Leon’s familiar car soon rolled up, parking by the sidewalk.

“You were really great tonight. You were amazing. Exceptional.” You told Joost as you started to slowly move towards your boyfriend's car.

“Thank you.” He was grinning ear to ear.

“Night Joost.” You gave him that signature sweet smile of yours that made him want to melt onto the concrete. He nodded his head and waved as you stepped in the car.

Leon pretended to not see Joost, even though Leon was staring daggers at him. He said nothing to you once you got in until you stopped at the first intersection.

“Any good acts tonight?” He spoke, turning on the right turn signal.

“Oh, yeah. Great ones.”

“That’s great baby, when did you get that jacket?” He took a quick look at your clothes. You looked down, eyes widening for a second.

You were still wearing Joosts jacket. You were wearing another man’s clothes in your boyfriend's car.

“I just found it in the back of my closet the other day.” You shrugged, acting oblivious.

Trying your best to tell yourself it really wasn’t that big of a deal, Joost only gave you his jacket because you were very obviously cold.

It meant nothing. If he hadn’t kissed you, maybe it would’ve meant nothing.

Leon let out a small hum, turning on the radio and saying nothing for the rest of the drive home.

You ended up not seeing Joost for the next four months. You kept in contact over text and one phone call. But you never saw each other in person after that. You never returned his jacket.

For those four months, there was a strange constant yearning, some ache in your chest. You weren’t sure exactly what. Maybe you did know, but just didn’t want to admit it. You convinced yourself it was Leon who you missed, not the other idea you were scared to admit.

Joost had that ache of yearning as well, he knew exactly what. You. He wanted to hear your laugh again, your singing, your voice. He wanted to see your smile, how your cheeks began to ball and blush and how your eyes squinted every time you began to grin.

God, he wanted nothing more but to see you again.

Once you were all settled in your new apartment, with barely any help from Leon, you began to book performances at local bars as you used to do back in Berlin.

Leon promised you he’d be in Amsterdam tonight, he promised he’d be on time and watch your show.

You peeked at the crowd a few minutes before you went on. Looking all over for him, even just a glimpse of him would make you happy. Glad he made it for once. There was no sign.

You pulled out your phone, texting him.

hey where are you??

i go on in like five minutes

are you running late??

A minute before set you got a response, you quickly checked your phone, an instagram notification.

But not from Leon, from Joost. He’d sent a photo. Just as you were about to see what it was, your name was being announced and you had to go on.

The crowd swayed and nodded along to your music. It was nice, you didn’t mind the peaceful crowd, it was what you were aiming for nowadays.

In the middle of one of your shorter songs, you once again started to look around for Leon. You spotted a taller, blonde, man wearing glasses, and hovering over the rest of the crowd with his height.

Joost.

You never told him directly where you were performing, he must’ve seen your name on the list of performers.

You began to smile and giggled for a moment into the mic. That smile and laugh he’s been waiting for what felt like forever to hear again, it made him feel ten times better than he already was.

After several thanks to the audience and putting away your things backstage, you checked your phone once again for any texts from Leon. Still nothing, he hadn’t even read your messages.

You walked out backstage and back into the bar area disappointedly until you saw Joost standing and waiting for you. Two drinks in his hands.

A smile lit up both your faces as you saw each other, yours was weaker than his however, still upset of Leon not showing up.

“Hey! I got you a drink, your mouth is probably pretty dry after all that singing.” He said happily, holding out the drink that was for you.

“Oh God, thank you. I was just about to get one of these.” You grinned as you took your drink from his hand, taking a sip from your straw and letting out a breath of satisfaction at the taste.

“I remember you said that was your favorite, so..” He shrugged and tilted his head as he smiled again. You hoped the dim light in the bar hid the blush taking over your cheeks, he remembered it was your favorite.

That only led you to another saddening thought. Joost remembered more about you than Leon did. He knew your favorite color, favorite drinks, favorite scents, favorite movies, favorite songs of his and yours. If you asked Leon to name any of those, he’d most likely just stare at you and stutter, not knowing.

The problem wasn’t Joost knowing your favorite things and Leon not. It was the fact that Joost remembered. Joost always remembered the times you told him you’d be going on at, or the places you were going to tour, the stories you told, or even the small little details you had in your conversations, that he would bring up in other conversations.

You couldn’t recall a time where you didn’t have to remind Leon multiple times you had a show and giving him the exact address to where it was, just for him to end up there ten or more minutes after your set, or not show up at all. Leon would never buy you your favorite drinks, or even buy you drinks, or buy you flowers, or take you out on dates.

Maybe it was wrong to compare the two men, they both had different lifestyles. But you’d known Joost for just a few months, much less time than Leon, and yet Joost still treated you better than your own boyfriend.

Because he remembered. He actually listened to you.

“You alright?” Joosts voice brought you out of your thoughts, “You looked really sad for a minute there.”

“Oh, uh yeah, I’m alright.” You waved a dismissive hand, put on your best unbothered expression. It was a weak one.

“You’re not a very good liar. I know somethings bothering you.” He teased, you looked down, deciding if you should try to lie more or tell him the truth, “Did Leon not show up?”

You kept your eyes on the ground and nodded, giving him a sad smile. He let out a coo of sympathy. It made the problem worse since Joost already knew what was wrong, he could read you like a book.

You took in a shaky breath when you tried to speak, you shut your eyes, hoping for the tears building up to subside. You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry in front of Joost, you didn’t want him to see you like that.

“It’s just been so long since I’ve seen him in person, and he promised he’d be here on time tonight. He won’t answer my texts again, I don’t see him anywhere.” You gestured a weak hand to the bar, no signs of your boyfriend being anywhere in there. Joost made a gloomy face as a few stray tears fell from your eyes, he wanted nothing more to hold you in this moment.

“And he promised to take me to that restaurant I keep talking about afterwards and…” You trailed off, shaking your head. “God, I feel so stupid crying about this.” You looked to the side, wiping the tears away, only for them to be followed by more.

“Hey. You’re not stupid, you were excited about tonight, I’d be disappointed too if a date night like that got canceled. You know, I’d say he’s the stupid one for missing out on a night with you.” Joost leaned in, making you let out a weak laugh.

“Yeah, he’s the stupid one.” You sniffled and let out a weak laugh as you patted your eyes. “None of my makeup is smudged right?”

“No, wait actually, there’s like a small streak right here.” He pointed to a spot under his eye, attempting to give you a visual representation of where it was.

You attempted to wipe it away, missing completely. Looking at him for clarification that you got it.

“Uh, no it’s- here, just let me…” He trailed off as he brought his thumb to the mascara streak, gently smudging the stain away.

It was such a simple act of kindness, yet something about it felt so loving, so intimate.

After a few seconds of insanely intense eye contact, Joost cleared his throat and rubbed his hands.

“There. Oh, do you need a ride home tonight?”

“How many drinks have you had?” You half-joked.

“Just this one.” He held up his beer, you narrowed your eyes at him teasingly, which told him you knew he was lying.

“Okay I had another before this, but I’m barely even tipsy.” He held up his hands in defense.

“Fine.” You gave him a teasing smile.

The drive home was quiet as always. Yet there was no awkward tension between the both of you, just a comfortable silence.

Joost offered to walk you to your door for safety reasons of course, you would’ve said he didn’t need to, but he seemed adamant about it.

You let him walk you to the start of the steps instead.

Joost looked at you while you looked at your feet in perfect rhythm, both small smiles on your faces. While looking down, you didn’t realize that your boyfriend was watching from your window, a scowl on his face.

You stopped at the foot of the stairs, finally looking up at the blonde boy next to you.

“I think I’ll be okay from here. Thanks for the ride.”

“Yeah, any time. If you ever need something you can call me.” Joost fidgeted with his thumbs, a nervous habit of his that you noticed and found cute in a way.

Both your eyes flickered to one another’s lips, a secret aching to close that gap between them. You took in a deep breath, coming back to the present moment.

“I’m gonna take a shower and go to bed. I’ll see you later.” You waved and made your way up the stairs, barely halfway up the stairs he called out your name. You turned with raised brows, a bit confused.

“Um, I just wanted to say…goodnight, Y/N.” Joost gulped, that’s not what he wanted to say.

“Goodnight, Joost.” You said softly, before both headed in the opposite directions.

You unlocked your door with that same feeling of butterflies in your stomach, only for them to go away and be replaced with a tight knot when you saw Leon leaning annoyed against your kitchen counter, a single lamp on in the entire place.

“Leon? What are you-“

“What were you doing with him?” He cut you off, standing up straight.

“What?”

“Don’t act dumb. That fucker you met from the bar, John.” Your eyebrows creased together, confused at the name, then realizing he got it wrong.

“Joost?”

“I didn’t ask for you to correct me. Just tell me why you were with him.” He put his hands on his hips, a defensive stance.

“He was giving me a ride home, since somebody decided to not pick up their phone.” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I had a few work calls I needed to make.” He shrugged, unbothered as he told that shitty excuse he always made.

“Yeah. Of course. Work.” You muttered, turning your back to him to take your jacket off.

“Don’t avoid this, you’re always running around with Joost. Have you been messing around with him?”

“No!” You raised your voice, tone filled with disbelief at the fact he would accuse you of cheating.

“Then why are you constantly hanging around him? I see the way you fucking smile and bat your eyes at him.” He pointed a threatening finger.

“Because it feels like he cares about me more than you!” You snapped.

“Bullshit.” Leon scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“It’s not bullshit, it’s the truth. Joost has shown up to more shows of mine than you have! He's always the one who makes sure I get home safe! He’s done a lot more than you ever have.” You lazily gestured at the man in front of you.

“Then why don’t you go fucking go date him! If you love him so much!” Leon threw his arms up in the air.

“That’s not what I’m saying.” You huffed, “I’m saying it’s unbelievable that a complete stranger I met at a bar has taken better care of me than you.”

“Bullshit, I’ve taken care of you.”

“When? Tell me a time!” You shouted at him, waiting a second for a response. Nothing.

“You’ve never given me a jacket when I’ve told you I’m cold, you barely ever take me out on dates, you’ve left me at the bar and made me walk home alone in the dark several times, you’ve never waited for me after a show!” You continued on with your rant “You’ve rarely even shown up to any of my shows!” You threw your arms in the air as your voice grew louder.

“I’ve told you before I get busy!” Another meaningless excuse.

“Busy with what? You’ve never given me a clear answer! It’s always just work! Yet there's never a clear reason! Why can’t you just take some time out of your day to come and see me? You didn’t even come tonight! And you’re in the goddamn country!” You were nearly screaming at him.

“Because you act like I could give a shit about your dumb fucking shows! You think I wanted to travel seven hours to see one of your boring sets?” He yelled at you, voice full of disgust.

You moved your head back in shock, jaw ajar and trembling as you tried to find the words. He shook his head and looked away, as if he was disappointed that you were upset.

“If you didn’t wanna see me, then why’d you even bother traveling here?” You stared at him with watering eyes, if looks could kill, he’d be dead on the floor. “You know what, if you don’t wanna see me, you can just get out.” You spat out, embarrassing angry tears starting to stream down your face.

“What?” Leon quickly whipped his gaze back to yours.

“Get out of my apartment! Get out! Get the fuck out!” You were shouting at him and pushing at him repeatedly, all the way into the hallway. He stumbled out.

You didn’t really know where all this rage came from, maybe it was the pent up frustration and anger from all the previous months, all the missed shows and ignored messages.

“You know what, fuck you! We’re over!” He pointed a defensive finger at you.

“We are over, asshole!” You yelled back at him, confused when you saw, his jaw clench angrily as he looked behind you.

You turned your head to see what he was staring at, it was Joost. Standing there with his mouth ajar and surprised eyes. Your face dropped.

Joost was shocked, standing there frozen. It was shocking to hear your usually soft and sweet spoken voice shouting and screaming curses at the man, watching your gentle hands shoving Leon harshly into the hallway.

Leon marched past you, muttering something and hitting Joost with his shoulder as he pushed past him, turning the corner and disappearing.

You and Joost stared at each other. He watched as your face crinkled in sadness and you let out a sob before turning and walking back into your apartment.

You were embarrassed that Joost saw you in such an angry and vulnerable state.

Joost was planning to come back, to possibly make that confession he’s been wanting to admit for months.

Instead watched you scream at your now ex boyfriend and saw you cry. Yet he still jogged over to your door, stopping you from closing it.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked worriedly, tilting his chin down to try and make eye contact.

“I think you should go, Joost.” You couldn’t look him in the eyes, you stared at his shoes.

“You shouldn’t be alone tonight.”

“I want to be.”

“But you don’t deserve-“

“Joost. Please just go home.” You begged, finally looking up at him with your teary eyes. “Please.”

Though your eyes were puffy, red, and mascara was smudged and stained down your pouty face. Joost still thought you were the most beautiful girl, the most beautiful thing to exist he’s ever seen.

“Okay.” He breathed out, the word barely audible with how soft he spoke.

You mumbled out a thank you and an apology before you shut the door, he heard the locks click and rubbed his hands down his face.

Joost felt horrible for you. He felt ashamed too, like it was his fault in some way. Seeing you in that moment, seeing you like that, all he wanted to do was hold you. Cradle you. Comfort you as you cried.

You wanted the same. Yet, you had no idea why you turned him away, why you isolated yourself tonight. Was that really what you needed? Or just what you wanted?

It was radio silence from you for the next two days. You holed yourself up in your apartment, smothering yourself in blankets and sleeping.

You didn’t know why you were taking the breakup so hard, you were unhappy in that relationship. You felt liberated now, but the harsh words Leon spat out at you hit you hard.

What made it worse was that Joost saw you in such an vulnerable moment. You just felt ashamed and embarrassed.

Joost was nervous, he had another gig tonight that you planned to go to, you said that you would go to it when you found out about it a few weeks ago.

You hadn’t answered his texts, the most you did was open the photo he sent from your last performance. It was a zoomed in photo of you standing behind the curtain, text over it saying:

i see u ^_^

It was silly enough to get a small smile out of you.

Though you said you would show up before, he couldn’t find your face in the crowd anyways. After his show, he texted you, asking you where you were. You gave him a short response:

I wasn’t able to show up tonight. I’m really sorry, I’ll make it there next time hopefully.

Joost frowned to himself, he couldn’t blame nor be mad at you for it. He knew breakups were a tough process, he’s already had his own in the past.

He wasn’t upset, but he wasn’t gonna let you continue to isolate yourself.

Joost rocked on his heels nervously after he knocked on your door, a bottle of wine and a few flowers in his hand.

He did another smell check on himself again, hoping the quick shower he took was enough to wash off the sweat from his show.

He heard the footsteps dragging closer to the other side of the door, a small pause before he heard the lock on the door click.

You opened the door as far as possible until the chain lock stopped it, a very sleepy and gloomy looking you appearing through the gap.

“Joost? What’re you doing here?” You asked tiredly, yawning after you spoke.

“I thought you’d want a small pick me up.” He gave a sympathetic smile, holding up the wine. You stared for a second then shut the door. His face dropped. At least he tried.

Another click and the door slowly opened fully. You leaned against the doorframe lazily. The tear stains on your cheeks were now fully prominent in the overhead lights of the hallway.

“Is that just for me to drink sad and all alone?” You joked, Joost really couldn’t tell if you were.

“Well, we could always share. I won’t pass on wine.” He shrugged. Then letting out a cough as he realized he had forgotten his other gift.

“Oh, I also grabbed these.” He held up the few flowers he had in his fist, “I picked these from the bushes outside, I hope you don't mind. I just didn’t want to show up with only alcohol.” He cleared his throat, the flowers were drooping slightly.

You let out a weak breathy laugh as you took the weak flowers from his hands carefully. You took in a deep breath before moving to the side, giving him a reassuring nod to come in.

You grabbed two glasses out as well as a corkscrew while Joost placed the bottle on the counter.

You both drank in silence for a few minutes, Joost nervously tapped his fingers against his glass.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be so depressing.” You trailed off, rubbing the side of your face.

“It’s fine. I know the first week is always the worst.”

“Yeah. I feel like I should be happy, he was an…asshole.” You threw a hand up, letting it fall against the counter. “But I dedicated so much of my time to him, for so long, now it just feels like I…”

“Wasted it?” Joost finished your sentence. You nodded, eyes beginning to water again.

“All I ever wanted was just someone to just…just see me.” You breathed out. “Or just love me. God, I sound so pitiful.” You let out a sad laugh, a stray tear escaping from your eye.

“So many people love you.” He reached out his hand, gently holding yours, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.

“Like who?” You said before taking another sip from your glass. Joost had already finished his.

Me. Joost wanted to say it so badly, but he didn’t know if it was the right way to say it. He didn’t know if it was the right time to admit it, he never knew when the right time

“More than you realize.” He gave you a reassuring smile, then reached behind with his empty hand feeling for the pack in his pockets. “Do you mind if I smoke?” He asked for your approval before pulling the pack out.

“Uh, no. You- we can just go out on the balcony.” You pointed to the sliding doors.

“You smoke?” He raised his brows at you, surprised a shy girl like you would pick up that habit.

“No. No. I just don’t want to send you out there alone. I’d rather not be alone here either.” You mumbled the last sentence out before getting up, moving to the doors, unlocking and sliding one to the side.

Sitting in the balcony chair opposite from yours, Joost lit his cigarette, trying his best to blow the puff of smoke that came out in the opposite direction from you.

The air was colder than ever now that it was the middle of January. You zipped up the jacket you were wearing. That same jacket Joost gave outside the venue all those months ago. He never realized you were wearing it until now.

He wondered how many times you’ve worn it since then.

And you never would tell him you’ve put it on more times then you could count, it had become an item of comfort.

“I’m sorry you had to see me in such an ugly moment. I never wanted you to see me like that.” You sighed out, rubbing your arms. He looked at you, eyebrows knitting together.

“It wasn’t ugly.” Joost spoke softly, smoke exhaling from his mouth. You smiled weakly, taking the compliment but not fully believing it.

“I don’t think anyone has been so kind to me. Not in the way you have.” You looked at him, sniffling. Joosts face fell soft, a sad sympathetic expression on his face.

“Nobody ever kissed me like you did.” You blurted out, mouth moving faster than your brain.

“Do you want me to do it again?” Joost was a bit surprised at his own words, the small amount of alcohol in his system being just enough to give him a confidence boost.

It gave you one as well.

You didn’t give him a verbal response, instead you closed that large space in between you and him. Quickly crashing your lips into his as you held the side of his face.

His mouth tasted of mint toothpaste and tobacco, the taste almost felt addicting.

You pulled away, both shocked by your sudden movement. Joost abandoned his cigarette, not even caring to stomp it out. He wrapped one arm around your back, the other carefully placed on the side of your face as he pulled you onto his lap and closed the gap between your lips.

Your mouths eloped each other, passionate and hungry for one another. Your hands were roaming all over both of your bodies, your hands moving to the back of his head and raking into his hair while his rubbed all around your waist, face, and back.

It was messy, so needy. Yet it wasn’t like any other kiss you’ve had, there was friction but it wasn’t because of the lust you both felt for one another.

It was fueled by love.

After a good moment of your lips being stuck together, you both pulled away, breathless, lips swollen, and amazed.

“This is so silly.” You looked down, giggling to yourself, then calming down and looking back up at him. “But I’m not drunk.” Your voice was breathless.

“I’m not drunk either, I wasn’t last time.” He stared into your eyes, looking like he was enchanted by you. He practically was.

“I wasn’t either.” You admitted, you’ve wanted to admit that for so long. That the first time he kissed you, when you kissed back, it wasn’t in the heat of the moment. It was what you wanted, it was what you wanted when you were sober.

“Is it too early to say I’m in love with you?” He chuckled, his hands still holding the sides of your face.

“It only took you four months, but I’m good with the time being now. You’re a good kisser.” You held your hands over his, your eyes watering not out of sadness, but joy.

You gave him one more kiss before wrapping yourself around him, hiding your grinning face in the crook of his neck.

This is where you stayed for most of the night, intertwined with each other in the moonlight.

Such a cliché scene, but this is both what you’ve been yearning for so so long. And now that ache in your chests is gone.

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Please Please Please - Rafe Cameron Short Story (Part

2 of 6)

+18 Minor DNI

Older MobDealer!Rafe x Female Reader

⭐ republished ⭐

+18 Minor DNI

Part 1

3333 words

Warnings contain spoilers: blood, domestic assault, cheating, swearing, name-calling, gaslighting, threats, and mentions of killing partner, kissing, mentions of female masturbation, ownership (you’re mine), general violence.

📖 Loosely based on the song and music video Please Please Please by Sabrina Carpenter 💕

✨Rafe clears his throat, changing slightly in his seat, the smoothness of his approach shifting as you adjust your glasses. He looks at you, trying his best to control his anger and questioning for your benefit, but he just can’t. “Did uh… Did you have those last night?” He asks weakly, well aware of the answer. His eyes narrow in concern, his softness quickly stripped. Your jaw tightens, lashes fluttering to hold back the tears that hadn’t disappeared. You shake your head ‘no’.✨

Sexual content in pink if you want to avoid that

Readers POV:

“Tony-”

Lights out.

That’s all I remember. The first blow of his fist to my cheek was enough to knock me out cold.

Your eyes flutter open, a burning ache claiming you immediately as you match your stare in the rearview mirror. Pain radiates from your nose. Your lip a mess with two rivers of thick blood lined to your chin. The car is empty, Tony nowhere to be found, leaving you alone in his dark garage.

Reaching over, you grab the door handle, crying out in pain, pulling your hand to your ribs. You slam your eyes shut, fear setting in as you get a taste of just how evil Tony can be. Lucky for you, he had the decency to knock you out before delivering the rest of his beating, sparing you the initial pain. I could leave. I could leave tonight, steal his car, and drive away.

But then, how will I meet him?

You shut your eyes, replaying the moment you locked eyes with him. Blue… Beautifully blue - thatcerulean stare captured yours, and for a few moments, you felt free. What was he booked for? Why was he sent to jail in the first place?

Your heart races, teeth gritted as you step out of the car, trying to push through the pain. You walk down a long line of vintage and luxury cars; the Maybach was nothing… This asshole has cars to spare.

An open spot… Vlad. Is Tony gone? You look out a small window on the garage door, the sunrise, a wash of pink and oranges, bleeds through the sky. I was in jail for 8 hours before he got me… He always takes an early flight. Hopefully, he left already. You step carefully, trying your best not to make a sound. Tony fights dirty; there’s no way you could let your guard down until you know for sure. He could be waiting for me inside.

Your heels click against the marble floor, head on a swivel as you watch for him. It’s eerie… The kitchen was a mess when you left, dirtied from your anniversary dinner, now spotless. The empty wine bottle on the counter is exchanged for a large vase of lilies and red roses.

There’s no way these are for me.

Tears roll down your cheeks, burning as they catch the gash in your cheek, making you hiss in pain, the movement reopening the wounds on your lip, pooling fresh blood in your mouth. Your scream fills the house, a piercing cry resonating through the wings. It’s not enough. You grab the vase, sobbing as you hurl it to the floor, watching the glass shatter into a million pieces.

Water and roses spread along the marble floor as you walk away, crushing the glass under your Louis Vuitton heels. You step toward the bedroom, kicking off your shoes, tearing down the zipper, letting the satin material fall to the floor. Maybe it was cheating, perhaps it was the beating, or was it the gaslighting bullshit? Whatever the hell it was, you were seconds away from saying fuck it entirely.

Water falls from the shower head, sending steam swirling all around. The gasps and hiccups of your tears get swallowed up in the noise of the shower as you draw back the glass, stepping inside. You let out a pathetic whimper as the water pelts your skin, every nerve on fire, hot water running through your wounds. It flows down your body, circling the drain in a watercolor mess of crimson, turning pink, then clear as the blood starts to wash away. The pain dissipates, numbness taking its place.

Maybe I want to be alone. Why am I even thinking about anyone else? What if he doesn’t want me? What if he has someone else? What if he’s treating them just like Tony treats me? You grab the handle, turning off the water. Chills spread across your body as you climb out of the tub, stepping onto the cool floor before returning to the bedroom.

Your stomach sinks as you hear your phone trill. Tony… I don’t even want to listen to his voice. I don’t want to hear what he has to say. I know what I saw. I can feel what he did to me. I need more time to think about my next steps. I don’t need him getting in my way or my head. You walk over to the bed, pulling your phone out of your purse. Kildare County Prison. What now? What could they possibly want? Clicking the button, you accept the call, lifting it to your ear.

“Hello?”

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳

“I’m here for visitation hours,” you announce softly.

The officer nods, standing up from his desk, walking around to the massive metal door. The alarm buzzes, hardware clanking as he opens the entry, letting you back into jail. You wander into the room, empty and clinical, with five seats and five small windows vacant on the other side. You take a chair, feeling your anxiety rise. Even though you were a mess of makeup and tears last night, your beautiful dress hanging torn on your frame, at least you weren’t beaten.

You tighten the scarf around your head, adjusting your eyeglasses to cover your bruises. Not even a pound of makeup could mask this mess. Tony did a number on you; no amount of foundation could hide that. You hear a muffled buzz from the other side of the glass. The door opens; prisoners walk out, tired and weary. Your heart skips, warming instantly as you meet the same baby blues from the night before, a breath of fresh air hitting you as you see his smile.

He’s changed since his disheveled shirt, exchanged for a uniform provided by the state. The man somehow makes it look good, his white t-shirt pulled taut across his broad chest. His hair is brushed back, not sweaty and tousled like before, giving you the perfect view of his gorgeous face. “Hi,” he mouths before sitting down, grabbing the phone off the hook. You follow suit, doing the same. The soft breathing you heard over the receiver the evening prior comes through a little louder, matching the movements of his chest.

You can feel your heart beating faster, just as excited as you were when he made his request. ‘Come to the prison tomorrow at 11 for visitor hours. I want to meet you’. You smile brightly, dampening your joy moments later as you remember just where you are. This is not a coffee shop. This is not some cute first date at the Island Club. This is prison… Then you’re hit with another blow. What if Tony found out? What if he has eyes inside? You reach for a breath, feeling panic set in, so excited at the thought of meeting him in person that you didn’t even think about the very real risk. Heat burns behind your eyes, tears glossing your vision. A lump forms in your throat, even the simple act of breathing, harder than before.

“Are you okay, princess,” he asks gently. You match his gaze, making the mistake of looking at him over the rim of your sunglasses as tears pool in your eyes.

“I’m okay,” you answer shakily.

“Are you - Fuck… Are you sure?” He asks as he goes to stand, quickly remembering the glass that separates the two of you when he tries to get a better look.

“Positive.”

“I don’t know-”

“Positive,” you stop him. He drops his head and nods, not wanting to upset you, doing his best to push past it. His brows pinch together, not believing the lies you’re selling him. “Y/n. Yeah? I hope it’s okay that I asked you here…”

“Mhmm…” You smile narrowly. “I was hoping I’d get to meet you.”

“Is that so?” He asks in a low tone, sending butterflies swirling in your stomach.

“Yeah…” You give him a small nod, stifling your grin again. “How did you know my number?”

He takes a deep breath, relaxing in his chair, crossing one arm over his chest, tilting his head slightly to let his cheek press into the phone. “Well, I paid $500 for a name and $2,000 for your number, another 10k so you and I could talk freely. Well, as long as it’s legal, of course.”

“Seriously?” You ask. “That’s too much…”

“Nah. It’s not. Drop the bucket… I can tell you are worth far, far more than that, doll. Priceless.” You giggle and smile, your happiness making the corners of his lips pull even wider. The most perfect smile I’ve ever seen. “That laugh, princess,” he hums, his voice like honey, as he lives in each word. “I could listen to that all day if you’d let me.”

Princess… The same pet name used by Tony in his letter, so demeaning after what he did to me, was reclaimed by this man instantly. Again, I’m lost in the moment with him, nestled in the sanctuary of my mind. What I wouldn’t do to sit next to him; smell his cologne, feel his knee brush softly against mine as he smiles down at me. I could feel the warmth of the words leaving his lips, not just hear them through the phone.

“You’re lovely,” you coo bashfully, feeling heat creep across your bruised cheeks.

Rafe clears his throat, changing slightly in his seat, the smoothness of his approach shifting as you adjust your glasses. He looks at you, trying his best to control his anger and questioning for your benefit, but he just can’t. “Did uh… Did you have those last night?” He asks weakly, well aware of the answer. His eyes narrow in concern, his softness quickly stripped. Your jaw tightens, lashes fluttering to hold back the tears that hadn’t disappeared. You shake your head ‘no’. The words that left your mouth struck him like a knife to the heart; a few shallow breaths in his broad chest was all he could muster.

“I’ll be fine.”

“You’ll be fine?” He asks as his voice cracks with anger and emotion. “You shouldn’t have to worry about that - ‘You’ll be fine’,” he huffs. “You need to know, I know what you’re dealin’ with, and you’re far from it.” Your nostrils flare, muscles tense as you try to keep your tears from spilling over. “When I get out of here. I’m gonna take care of that for you. And, if I’m lucky, I’d like to take care of you too,” he pledges. You can tell he means every word.

“You - You don’t even know me. I don’t even know your name-”

“Rafe,” he cuts you short, the corners of his lips quivering in a slight smile he’s putting on just to ease your worry. The sheer thought of what happened to you the night prior evidently shocking him to his core. “Cameron,” he rasps out his last name, clearing his throat as he tries to gain his composure.

“It’s nice to meet you, Rafe Cameron.” His name leaves your lips, making you smile again.

“I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable, but can I see your eyes?” He asks sweetly. You nod, pulling the glasses off your face, before meeting his watch. “There she is,” he whispers. “You’re stunning. You know?”

“Thank you.”

“No, sweetheart. Thank you. And, it’s nice to meet you too.” You’re put at ease in his presence. Rafe seems to be the type of man who is rough for everyone and soft for you. The kind to commit heinous crimes, but don’t you dare fuck with what’s mine. He’d never do this to me… “So, we have about 10 minutes. It’s not enough time. I’m going to call you. Yeah?”

“Of course,” you answer quickly, scooting a little closer toward the glass, making him bite his lip at your excitement.

“I’m getting out of here in a week. Can you come and see me tomorrow?” He asks hopefully.

“Of course, Rafe.”

“N’he comes home in seven days-“ Rafe starts, catching you off guard as he spouts details you didn’t even know. Your confusion must be painted all over your face because he quickly assures you. “I know people. I know he’s in Monterrey; I know he’s into some pretty serious shit. So am I.”

“You are?” You ask shakily, bottom lip quivering with adrenaline. Tony never told you anything; everything was a mystery with him, dismissed and cloaked in a vain compliment to get you off his back. ‘You’re too pretty to worry about this, baby. Shh… all you gotta do is look pretty and spend Daddy’s money’. This is the most truth I’ve gotten about his dealings than I have in our entire relationship.

“I don’t like keepin’ secrets. I have a feelin’ you’re used to that shit. Not with me. Okay?”

“Okay…” you nod dutifully, nervously tapping your nails on the cool metal counter. “Well, in that case, why are you here?”

Rafe sucks his teeth and clears his throat, looking side to side, checking on the inmates sharing space with him. “Murder. Allegedly.” The blood drains from your face, your eyes widen like saucers. Murder? “I didn’t do it - I didn’t shoot that guy. I don’t even know him. I never met him a day in my life, but I gotta whole lotta enemies.”

“I suppose,” you whisper shakily.

“It wasn’t me…” There’s more that he wants to say. It’s right on the tip of his tongue. ‘It wasn’t me… this time.’ A change of scenery, and he’d probably tell you everything. “You gotta believe me. I promise-”

“I do,” you stop him, making his eyebrows lift slightly in surprise. “I believe you, Rafe.”

He looks back at you and smiles. “Good girl.” Your heart bangs in your chest, pulse thumping in your ears. “M’sorry our first conversation’s so hard. I didn’t want it to be like this… I wanna get this out of the way and put it to bed, ‘course I gotta handle business, but I’ll do the dirty work. You don’t need any more stress. After today, I don’t wanna speak about him anymore. Just you. You are the only thing I wanna talk about, princess,” he smiles, tapping gently on the glass. You rest your hand on it. Rafe does the same, pressing his large palm to match.

The thought of a physical connection makes your head spin, the pair of you looking at each other starry-eyed. “Can I count on you to pick me up when I get out?” He asks, anxiously like you’d say anything but ‘yes.’ You nod, unsure of the timeline or how you could escape when Tony returns. “His flight doesn’t get in until 4:30. N’Tony’s got a meetin’ with a new buyer-” Rafe gives you a little nod - he’s the buyer.

“Rafe-”

He shakes his head ‘no’, stopping you before you can start. “I’m not scared of him, baby. We need to come to an understanding, him and I. He needs to understand that his actions have consequences. He needs to understand you’re mine.”

His?

I’m Rafe’s.

You stare at him like a dear in the headlights yet again, stunned silent by his words. “Do you want that, princess?” He asks as he looks back at you.

“I do.”

Rafe shakes his head and smiles, slightly confused like he can’t believe what you’re saying. “I gotta week to make a plan. I have to get to him. You think you could help me with that?” Your stomach turns as you replay Rafe’s first lie. His mouth said ‘conversation’ but his eyes said ‘execution’. A conversation is not just a conversation. I’m not stupid. “You gotta act normal when you’re around him, princess. Business as usual. Do you think you can do that f’me?” You nod in agreement. “You’re going to do so good, baby. You’re brave. All right? You’re here. Aren’t you? You’re not afraid to take a risk. I mean, you’ve been here, after all,” he adds as he swirls his finger, gesturing to his confinement. “What did a sweet thing like you do to end up in here anyway?” He questions, cocking his head slightly as he fights back a smirk.

“I uhh…” You giggle breathily, still uneasy about what you can and can’t share, attempting to feed Rafe just enough to answer his question, not enough to incriminate yourself any further. “I trashed his truck.”

”The Maybach?” Rafe asks with a lifted brow; the smirk pulling wider as he tilts his body into the glass, his strong forearms resting on the countertop. You give him a nod ‘yes’. ���That’s a two hundred thousand dollar ride, sunshine. Uhh, with what?” He asks as he scratches at his 5’o’clock shadow, a fire burning in his eyes, taking pleasure in your little stunt.

“A bat.”

“A bat. Huh? Well, fuck doll, You’ll be just fine.”

Your shoulders fall as your body relaxes a little more. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I will be alright. Maybe I can pull this off. “Okay,” you answer, starting to believe the words he’s saying yourself.

“After I hash out everything with Tony, I’m gonna take you out for a drink, and we’ll celebrate all night.”

You smile bashfully, his proposal clouding your brain; thoughts drifting away as he baits you with his proposition. He’s not saying a lot, but saying so much at the same time. ‘All night’… Drinks, celebration; sex… Freedom? Maybe, if everything goes his way, which I have a feeling it usually does.

“Words, angel,” Rafe hums, pulling you out of your haze.

You smile back at him, hungry-eyed, finding yourself impatient for the time to come already. “All night…”

Rafe licks his lips, savoring what little he can see of you. You can only imagine what he’s thinking, looks alone telling you that he’s picture a million and one ways he can make you scream his name. “Beautiful.”

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳

It had been a week… A week of getting to know him. A week of Rafe Cameron. Praise. Promises. The possibility of what a life could look like with him. Of course, there’s a chance it could all go to shit. What would I do then? What would I do if Tony did something to Rafe?

I guess Tony’s something I’ll have to take care of if that time comes. But what if he takes my life? I guess either way I’ll be free.

Your week went like clockwork: visitation at nine, a phone call every night at four. Rafe’s voice filled your ears, saving you from your dark thoughts, filling you with light. As he promised, there was no talk of Tony; the two of you more focused on getting acquainted with each other to worry about much more.

When 4 pm struck you pulled out your phone, waiting impatiently for Rafe’s call. It rang a moment later, making you scramble for the accept button. The rug was pulled out from underneath you after your sweet ‘hey, baby,’ and Tony’s ‘hello, darling’. His voice on the other end of the line was gut-wrenching leaving you to maintain that same bliss reserved for Rafe.

It taught you one thing, though… you were a much better liar than you imagined, acting like the steadfast, naive girlfriend you’ve played so many times before when you fed into the bullshit. ‘Are you having fun in Mexico, baby? Did you get to go to the beach, handsome? I can’t wait for you to come home, daddy. I miss you.’ And, he ate it all up, more than usual even. The guilt of his little “lesson” still weighing heavily on his icy heart, apparent in every whispered ‘I love you’ and “You know you’re my girl. Right?’

Wrong.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳

You lean slightly outside your Magnum XE, waiting for Rafe. Catching the mirror, you check your makeup; almost all of the harm caused by Tony is covered up or faded away. You’re restless, drumming your hands on the leather steering wheel while waiting for him. You leave the car, walking around the front, adjusting your pink fur coat before sitting pretty on the hood. I wanna look good for him.

Last night was just a taste. You bite your lip, thinking about your phone conversation with Rafe. It was the first exchange that was more than just sweet and assuring, turning risky fast. It started with Rafe asking what you were wearing, ending with you, a panting mess in his ear as he talked you through it all. You soaked your fingers just like he asked as he set the pace, telling you what to do and when, praising you for doing such an good job for him. He promised he’d take care of you… And he did.

Fuck, I can’t wait to thank him myself.

You watch the door swing open, that very same door you walked out of just days before, but unlike you, Rafe is all smiles. That smile… He slings his bag over his shoulder, shooting you a wink that has you giggling like a schoolgirl.

Your heart patters as he steps closer, moving with a purpose. He takes you into his arms, stealing your breath as his lips lock with yours in a deep, passionate kiss. Rafe’s hand wraps around the back of your neck, the other bound around your waist, needing you closer. You live in the moment, memorizing the shape of his body in yours. The smell of his cologne lingers lightly on the shirt he had on when he stumbled into his cell that night, the scent of it somehow already so familiar. You grab onto his button-down, tugging him in, causing him to smile against your lips.

“Hi, princess.”

Part 3

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[queerfables]

I'm still working out what the significance of this is, but I'm now surer than ever:

In season 2, Aziraphale's bookshop is the Garden of Eden.

What first tipped me off was the end of 2x01, when Gabriel asks about Outside, and Crowley urgently warns him that he needs to stay inside the bookshop. It reverberated against the themes of season 1, where choosing freedom over safety is symbolised by Leaving the Garden. Supporting this connection, one of the songs on the season 2 soundtrack is called Leaving the Bookshop; it plays in 2x06 when Crowley escorts Nina and Maggie outside.

There's an even clearer indicator of the symbolism, though, and I am so fascinated by the implications. When Gabriel first arrives at the bookshop in a state of undress, one of the things he says to Aziraphale is:

"Who told you I was naked?"

It's a funny line but it's also surprisingly biblically significant. In Genesis, Adam and Eve's loss of innocence after eating the fruit of knowledge is shown by their realisation they are naked. In this scene, Gabriel is like them before this transgression, innocent and unconscious of his own nakedness.

But it's even more on the nose than that, because in Genesis, when God appears to Adam after he eats the fruit, Adam hides, and then admits he's afraid because he's naked. And I quote directly, Genesis 3:11 (New International Version):

And [God] said, “Who told you that you were naked? Have you eaten from the tree that I commanded you not to eat from?”

I'm sure this reference is intended. It's too similar to be a coincidence. So Gabriel's memory loss is comparable to the innocence that preceded the Fall of Man, and that's fascinating in its own right. This also makes the bookshop, where he is protected so long as he stays inside its walls, a clear parallel to Eden.

In relation to Gabriel, I think Beelzebub is Eve, offering Adam the knowledge of good and evil in the form of a fly holding his hidden memories. An argument could be made that they are the serpent to his Eve, but I think the partnered dynamic makes this a more fitting interpretation.

I'm still thinking on the roles that Crowley and Aziraphale play in this analogy. I keep coming back to Gabriel's line, "I don't go outside, and now I have two friends." If this is Eden, who are his friends? Are Crowley and Aziraphale reprising their roles as the serpent and the guardian? Are they God and Satan playing games with their own little universe, perhaps? Or are they Adam and Eve?

Obviously, if the bookshop is Eden, this has major implications for Crowley and Aziraphale too in the context of their break up. With this framing, Crowley telling Aziraphale, "You can't leave this bookshop" becomes a fascinating twist on his traditional role. He's asking Aziraphale to stay with him in blissful ignorance, rather than confront the truth of their world. I'm not arguing that this is the only level at which this line should be read, but it's one that's worth considering.

You may also notice that in light of this biblical reference, "Who told you I was naked" becomes the first time amnesiac Gabriel echoes the words of God. I'm really not sure what these echoes mean, but they sure do intrigue me.

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet Cute - Law's Story - 7

Source for pic

The Great Pretender 7

Word Count: 3157

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Law is a soft dom; you have bratty tendencies (not all the time); voice kink; praise kink; cursing; very suggestive behaviour and innuendo from the start; sexual tension; teasing; so much flirting; romance; slow-burn; fluff; slight angst; mature audiences (though explicit NSFW moments will be properly tagged on the chapter); possessive Law; protective Law; soft Law; teasing Law; manipulative Doflamingo; inappropriate Doflamingo; fake relationship trope; only one-bed trope; reader has some anxiety issues; reader is a control freak and perfectionist; modern day AU;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Law (your father's doctor) start to build a flirty friendship because of your father’s procedure. So much so that when he’s invited to Baby 5’s wedding (his cousin), he asks you to be his date. His uncle Doflamingo - who is filthy rich - is very adamant on finding a suitable wife for him. Seeing as he wants to avoid that, he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend.

Notes: Yeah I decided to split the 6500k chapter into two since we're going to learn about Law's past and reader's past (this way we get one story at a time). Also, this songs sums up Law's and reader's relationship at this point (it's a beautiful lie, it's a perfect denial) - anyway, don't be mad! Things will fall into place soon enough and the denial will stoooop! Unless the evil author has other plans... *insert evil laugh*

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid

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|Chapter 6| | |Chapter 8|

Law keeps pulling you by the hand, and you keep following him. He’s not leading you back to your room yet, the night is still young and you haven’t been excused. He’s taking you to an empty room, away from the hustle of the party, away from prying eyes, and away from Doflamingo’s manipulation and poisonous words. 

You both enter, and Law closes the door behind you, finally letting go of your hand. The room is dark and eerily quiet, your ears still buzz slightly from all the chatter in the other room. There are shadows dancing by the carpet in the middle of the room, the full moon casting its fickle light through the window. 

It’s an office of sorts or a very small library. 

Law sighs and starts to pace, one hand caressing his goatee absentmindedly. He seems on edge, and you feel a little lost. He’s usually so in control, so put-together and now… with a few words from his uncle, he’s falling apart. 

“Law?” You start softly. “Do you want to talk about it?” You ask, but you know you’ll have to talk about it. It’s something important to Law, and in any real relationship, the mention of another woman, mixed with the jabs Doflamingo sent his way, would be discussed. 

“It’s… it shouldn’t be important.” His eyes barely meet yours, there’s a shadow of vulnerability in them that he doesn’t seem to want you to acknowledge.

“But it is, isn’t it?” You take a tentative step towards him, trying to get him to look at you. “Who is she? Who’s Monet?”

The name alone provokes a reaction from him. His fists clench, and the deep crease in his forehead deepens even more. Law groans and continues his incessant pacing, effectively shutting you out from whatever he is processing inside. 

You feel the lump in your throat tightening, and an uneasiness in your stomach makes it churn and burn. It’s as if this bond you’ve been creating - fake or not - has now become a chasm. An endless void between you that you have no idea how to cross. 

It stings. It’s frustrating to be shut out of something so important. Clearly, he’s still hurt from whatever happened. Clearly, there are still feelings buried within. And even though you shouldn’t feel this way - this is not real, remember? - your heart still aches at this sudden realisation. 

“Doflamingo will bring her up more often, Law. In a real relationship, your girlfriend would ask. I need to know.” You try to be assertive, your need to stay in control of any and all variables affecting your tone of voice. This is a loose end, it can’t be left untied, or you’ll risk tripping on it and destroying your whole pretence. 

He sits down on the armchair, his head buried in his hands. There’s pain there. Raw, unbridled pain. You kneel in front of him, gently removing his hands and staring into his eyes, urging him to let you in, to share his vulnerability. 

“It’s… complicated.” He begins. But now his eyes don’t leave yours, as if seeking grounding, an anchor in stormy seas. “Monet was someone important to me, a long time ago. I thought we had something real, but when I brought her home, Doffy did what he always does. He tests, and pushes until someone breaks. And she broke easily.”

Your lips remain sealed, still absorbing all the information he’s willing to share. He continues.

“Turns out Monet didn’t care about me, she was only after money, power and influence and… well, Doflamingo has plenty of each.” 

“So he took her from you?”

Perhaps the pain he’s showing has nothing to do with lingering feelings but with resentment and betrayal. Both from her and from his uncle. 

Law scoffs. “I don’t blame him entirely for it. Monet was the one with the choice. He can push and bend and manipulate all he wants, but he doesn’t force anything. She made her choice. And it wasn’t me.”

He sounds bitter, wounded even. Was the past Law less guarded with his real emotions? Was he less controlled, less in check?

“Do you…” You begin, your questions burning your tongue. ‘Do you still have feelings for her? Do you still love her? Would you choose her over me…?’ Yet you lack the courage to ask them. Perhaps because you don't feel entitled to know the answer. He's not yours, and you are certainly not his. No matter how tempting or exhilarating that notion might be. 

“No.” He still answers. He doesn't read minds, but he can read you like a book. And that's a terrifying thought. 

Your eyes search his, but he avoids you. Is it really a no? Even if he doesn't love her romantically, there's no denying that there's still something there. Why does that realisation  burn a hole in your chest and prickle your eyes? You don't even want to try and figure it out. 

Law runs his fingers through his hair and continues. “Doflamingo knows which buttons to push, he knows me well. He’s well aware of how I bend and how I break.”

“And now he’s trying to do to me what he did to Monet.” Realisation hits you. That’s why he was being so inappropriate and rude. Maybe he used the same words on Monet to lure her. Well, you weren’t here because of Law’s money, you were here because you genuinely cared for him and he requested your help. “Well, he’s barking up the wrong tree.” You say plainly.

Finally Law’s smirk returns to his lips. He seems to have calmed down somewhat, so you reassure him some more. 

“If this were true, Law,” you purposely choose not to use the signal so he knows you’re being real. “You didn’t need to be worried. I would never be with you just for the money. I can’t be bought. You should know that.”

His hand ghosts around your cheek, never really touching, but the vulnerability in his eyes is overwhelming. You revisit the thought that, perhaps, you should discuss emotional boundaries.

Before something irreversible stirs inside you.

“Thank you.” He rises and uses his hand to help you up as well. His amber gaze is focused again, controlled, but still tense. You can see him ready to snap at the tiniest provocation. Monet still bothers him and now it bothers you as well. Though you should try to push that thought to the back of your mind because you know Doflamingo will prey on both your vulnerabilities. 

Looking at Law, you still sense him on edge, his emotions in plain sight when he’s so used to keeping them hidden from the world. And as your heart constricts, pained from his suffering, you realise that maybe that something irreversible has already happened. 

-*-

You both return to the party, weary and praying for the time when it’s appropriate to retire to your bedroom. Law doesn’t leave your side anymore. But Bellamy and Doflamingo’s lingering gazes and snickers have him seething again, and Law decides to take his frustrations out on glasses of whiskey. 

You try to subtly tell him that he shouldn’t be drinking, but Doffy provokes him again with a jab at how polite you are and how well-behaved, and Law picks up another glass. 

You're not feeling too sunny yourself after the Monet conversation, so instead of fighting Law, you decide to join him. You think about ordering another virgin mojito, but instead, you drink one with extra rum. That seems like it will pair well with your mood.

Luckily, Cora announces that perhaps you should all go to bed because tomorrow will be a full day of fun activities and more mingling.

Yipee.

You and Law hold hands as you return to your room, but there seems to be a cloud hovering over both your dispositions. Law remained distant after you returned to the party, probably lost in his own thoughts instead of sharing them with you, and now the atmosphere is charged with tension.

You’re not quite sure what to do to diffuse it, so, after entering the room, you stand in front of the vanity mirror, removing your jewellery slowly. The alcohol you ingested managed to make your head lighter but you are not drunk and Law seems to be the same, despite all the glasses he downed. He must have a very high tolerance for alcohol. 

He unbuttoned his shirt as soon as he entered the room, and he’s now sitting at the edge of the bed, his amber gaze burning into you, even though you’re not facing him. He seems thoughtful but you’re not privy to his thoughts, and once again, that stings.

Trying to ignore both the sting and the gaze, unsure if he needs space or confrontation, you continue your task. But it doesn’t take long before he explodes. “I heard some of what Doflamingo said to you when I was away, before he brought up my past relationship.”

You stare at him through the mirror, your face turning pink at the mention. Doffy had been quite crude, so the fact that Law heard it is a bit embarrassing. “Oh?” Law’s eyes darken with your reaction, a storm brewing behind his golden orbs. 

“Is that what you really want?” The earring slips from your hand, rattling loudly against the wooden surface of the vanity and you turn to face him. 

“What?”

Law gets up, tousling his hair in a desperate move, a frailty and vulnerability in his gestures that you can’t quite handle. “To be brought to your knees with a look? To be bent and taken anywhere as a claim?” He sighs exasperated. “To be controlled with power and a firm hand?”

You straighten your back, eyes sharpening and lips pursing. Doflamingo’s words have been brewing in Law's mind - all that crap about him being too soft - that’s why he seems so distant: Doffy planted the seeds of doubt and now he’s insecure. 

He looks into your eyes, pacing forward, something you can’t quite name shining behind his darkened pupils. “Is it him you want?”

“No.” You say firmly. “Never.”

He takes another tentative step. “Because I can be whoever you want me to be.” You're not sure if it’s the drinks he had, or the rawness that Doflamingo's words pulled from within him. Whatever it is, this vulnerability he’s showing you is very conflicting. 

“I don’t want you to be anybody but yourself, Law. Besides…” Your voice falters. “This is not real.”

With one more step he’s right in front of you. You can feel the heat coming from his body. His scent envelops you and hazes your senses, his voice spirals around your mind, creating a fog of desire you cannot escape. The dizziness that surrounds you doesn't come only from the alcohol. 

“But what if it were real?” He whispers, his lips mere inches from yours. The question sends a shiver down your spine. This is dangerous. You should both stop this before it escalates. 

“What if it were?” You ask, unsuccessful in your efforts. 

His hand reaches up and he hesitates, his hand lingering near your ear, ready to use the signal. Yet he doesn’t do it. Instead, he lets his hand fall to your shoulder, caressing it as it descends, resting at your wrist.

“If this were real,” he starts as his free hand cups your face and tilts it up towards him, getting even closer. “I’d make sure I gave you all you wanted.” His lips brush yours softly, then he kisses your jawline, stopping at your neck and sucking, making you gasp and bite your lip. “If this were real, I’d know you were mine, and I wouldn’t have to be insanely paranoid that I’m going to lose you.”

He’s being much more truthful and open about his emotions than ever before, giving you a glimpse of his real feelings. You’re once again reminded that this is very dangerous territory, but your sane thoughts are all being pushed to the back of your mind. There is only Law now. 

The hand at your wrist moves to grab your hip. He squeezes, caressing the bone with his thumb, then climbs upwards, his thumb scraping against your breast. His fingers slide further, grazing your already erect nipple. The soft noise that escapes your parted lips sinfully resembles a moan. 

“If this were real, I’d truly make you mine. There would be no more doubts.” His hands slip under the straps of your dress, pulling them down and fully exposing your neck and shoulders where he then lays a kiss and a long, wet lick.

Your vision is already blurring, your breaths leaving your lips in broken pants and gasps. Heat and want gather within you, and you don't quite know how to put it out.

“Tell me…” He slurs your name, letting it drag lustfully through his lips, against your collarbone. “If this were real, would you let me take you, right here, right now?”

The question is charged. There has been no signal. You have to assume this is real, but it can't be.

Right?

Yet there is no way to control the words and noises slipping out of your mouth. Even if you weren't hazy from the drinks you had, you know perfectly well that as soon as Trafalgar Law lays his hands upon you, every sane thought leaves you and you are at his complete mercy.

“Yes, yes I would.” You whisper between mewls. 

The tension around you shifts, changing into something heavier as Law’s hands grip your waist tightly. His eyes darken with desire before he lifts you, setting you down on top of the vanity and slotting himself between your parted legs.

“That’s good. Because I don’t think I can stop now.” He doesn’t even give you time to process or weigh his words before his lips come crashing onto yours. His tongue immediately searches for yours. He’s demanding, relentless and you give all you have to him.

He keeps taking it all and the kiss is charged, hungry and consuming. The boundaries you two set in place crumble and blur and you don’t even know what’s real or what’s fake anymore, but do you even care?

Law pulls back, his forehead still pressed against yours as his hands roam up your thighs, slithering beneath the fabric of your dress while his lips wander to your neckline. The straps of the dress he pulled down are exposing the flesh of your breasts and he latches his lips there. “Say you’re mine.”  His voice is ragged, raspy and laced with want and need. “I need to hear you say it. Tell me you’re mine.” He repeats.

You know this comes from a place of hurt. From the void that Monet left, that Doflamingo helped create. Rationally you know that, but your mind is long gone. You’re a mess now. And you can only please him.

“I’m yours, all yours, Law.”

The grunt he exhales is primal and possessive. His hands grip you with force as he lifts you, arms circling your waist, lips latched onto yours again, and he begins stumbling blindly towards the bed. You wrap your legs around his waist, taking advantage of his loss of control by ruffling your hands through his hair, pulling him into your kiss desperately.

From the interactions you’ve had with him, he barely let you touch him. He was the one in control, the one in charge. He touched, he teased, he commanded. Tonight, though… 

There’s a blur between what’s wrong and what’s right, what’s real and what’s fake… and he lets you have this. 

You moan into his mouth as you feel the silkiness of his locks, then you circle your arms around his neck and pull him impossibly closer. Law stumbles as he reaches the edge of the bed but quickly regains his footing, setting you both down, your back against the mattress as he continues to bully your tongue with his.

“Mine. Say it again, sweetheart, let me hear you.” There’s an underlying neediness in his pleas. This is a different Law than the one you’re familiar with. He’s vulnerable. Bent, not yet fully broken, but very bruised. 

Doflamingo managed that on Law’s first day back, and you were both helpless to stop him. 

“I’m yours, Law.” Your whisper is broken, ragged, filled with want and need clawing at your chest, yearning to be let out. Yet…

Law’s hands lift your dress and he keeps kissing the top of your breasts, threatening to go lower with each kiss.

Yet…

Your legs cling onto him, pulling him to you, feeling just how much you want each other. It’s bliss.

And yet…

“I’m… Law… we drank too much… we can’t do this now… this… this is not real.”

The finality in your words seems to rattle and shake you both. Your legs lose their strength and fall down onto the mattress. Law stops his ministrations, his hand still slotted against the back of your thigh as he was lifting it, the other one at the strap of your dress as he was about to expose your breast to his eager mouth. 

“It’s not… real…” He whispers and his breath comes in hot waves against your chest. His hands part with your body and you feel cold and empty without his touch, but he’s still hovering over you, eyes glazed as he tries to regain control of the situation. “We’re not real.” He says with gravitas, reminding both you and himself of your agreement. 

Then, with a swift motion, he gets up, straightening his clothes and running his fingers through his hair. “I shouldn’t have taken things this far… I… Doflamingo he… I… I should have stopped. I’m sorry.”

Somehow you find your voice as you sit up, straightening your clothes as well, now that the moment is gone. “No, Law it’s… it’s okay, I… I also…”

You both stare at each other, a longing in your gaze, your eyes searching each other for promises of impossible ‘what ifs’. Because why can’t this be real? Who’s stopping it? Yourselves? And why?

“This won’t happen again. Forgive me.” He still searches your eyes, maybe looking for some defiance to his statement, maybe looking for something else… yet, you remain silent. Law runs his fingers through his thick black hair and sighs, “I’ll be right back.”

And, once again, he turns to escape a heated, charged situation and takes refuge in the bathroom, leaving you teetering on the borders of your self-imposed boundaries. What is real and what is not or… better yet, what you wish was real and what is not.

Because, as you already realised, you are in this way too deep and the feelings you know you both share are bubbling up, ready to burst. All far more complicated than either of you had anticipated. 

|Chapter 8|

[thatdeadaquarius]

Episode two of us teleported to genshin and we just play prank on everyone and causing havoc cuz y not <33

Secretly swapping venti and kaeya's vintage wine with the freshest grape juice *evil laugh*

Randomly singing niki minaj and megan thee stalion lyrics in random places <3

WE WOULD BUILD A TREE HOUSE NEAR WINDRISE AND LIVE TOGETHER YAYAYAY

Living that cottage core dream <3

YOU KNOW WE WOULD BITCH

i like to think we'd fufill every genshin fans chaotic dreams if we got yoinked to genshin lol

(obviously, seriously, sorry for replying way too late to this ;-; )

ur talking abt harmless pranks, and while yes we would need to do all of those, im talking abt figuring out how to trick Zhongli into running into Neuvillette LMAOO

ok but the Windrise idea is lowkey genius, i mean if Hilichurls can accomplish structures surely so can we, u know what i subscribe to tho? Treehouses/cool houses in every nation 👌

like cool mountain home for Liyue/inazuma could literally have a house for every island/sumeru would be yet another most epic treehouses/I WOULD LIKE TO HANG OUT/LIVE IN ONE OF THE PYRAMIDS!! not all of them have dead ppl in them i don't think (in teyvat not earth💀)

Im a personal favorite of not just singing nicki minaj songs/2000s party songs, but blasting them thruout Fontaine’s speakers 👍

OR EVEN BETTER-

blasting unhinged music thru the speakers of the CLOCKWORK MEKA, no matter where Fontainians go they can’t escape shit like, “REESES PUFFS REESES PUFFS EAT EM UP EAT EM UP EAT EM UP”

(i like to think our phones would come with/always be at 100% bc we’re “inside the video game” too)

i just posted ur other idea abt this, but telling the Akademiya/Fontaine vision users abt powerpoint nights, and just sitting back with popcorn/genshin food so we can watch the show lol

idk if u saw it for Lantern rite this year, but how mountain shaper and moon carver accidentally messed with cloud retainer by flying kites in her territory? i would give the adepti even more funny gifts so they'd unintentionally prank Each Other lmao

Giving unhinged novel ideas to Yae Miko would also be great, like the beef between Zhongli/Rex Lapis and Venti/Barbatos but enemies to lovers fanfic 💀

she’d print it too lol

(oh god i don't even wanna think abt how much more insane we’d seem if they thought we were their Creators/above the gods 😭 be gods of chaos more like lol)

tysm for all ur big brain ideas orah, 10/10 would love driving Teyvat crazy if we were both there irl

i hope u have a great week!! :D

Safe Travels,

💀♒

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♡the beloveds♡

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