#i am so jealous of his bone structure and hair

[reikumaz]

rei with an s/o that calls him by a cutesy nickname and enjoys using it often and around (nearly) everyone, without shame and with extra affection.

┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ ☁️ @midnight-moonstars’s full request found here!

note: these are silly cute little headcanons but i got a bit carried away with this concept so there's appearances from rei's friends and ritsu. i just thought this was really cute. i couldn't stop.

oh, rei does not feel an ounce of shame or embarrassment when it comes to his nickname given from you. no, he cherishes it as though it were gifted to him by one of the gods he worships. he holds it dear to his heart, etching it into the very bones that form his structure. each time he hears the name, he is reminded of your nature. you are too pure.. and all too trusting of those who are pulled into your orbit. within your eyes, this world is painted in colors of what it could be, not tainted with the dullness of reality, much unlike your counterpart. rei has seen the abhorrences of this earth, he has seen people twisted by greed and desire, humans crumble to sin, spread fire amongst peers… you are the sun that illuminates the day and bring shine to the people, and he is the moon that watches the sun.

the others around the two of you might cringe a little at how loving you guys can be with one another, with all the nicknames and public displays of affection. koga and kaoru being the main perpetrators of trying to tear the two of you away from one another.

“go somewhere else if yer goin’ to do that!” koga barks with clenched fists, cheeks blooming a scarlet color as he waves his hands, “we wanna practice not watch ya two— make out!”

you guys aren’t kissing. nor were the two of you guys touching. as a matter of fact, you had only just arrived and were currently in the door frame, hand awkwardly outstretched towards rei and his hand frozen reaching for you as you guys blink at koga. you had only called out for each other, no other scandalous deeds had taken place.

as for kaoru. well, he gets as kaoru gets. sighing and sulking about how he wished a certain someone would call him a cute nickname. then glance over at you to make sure you’re observing his antics. once he confirms you’re looking, he goes back to pretending to wipe away nonexistent tears before turning to take your hand into his, eyes gleaming as he asks if you could maybe give him a cute little nickname.

you simply just pet him on the head and call him a silly boy before going to cling to rei’s arm.

( rei isn’t an easily jealous person, he has the patience only a saint could contain. and he is used to kaoru’s ways, but in this moment, he can’t help but to flash a wicked, knowing smile kaoru’s way as though he'd triumped over him. )

and if he were to hear that nickname in a crowd of people, he shall heed to it as a devotee who only answers to whom they are devoted to. each time he hears this name, he can’t help the quirk of his lips, the calling, beckoning of his heart trapped in a golden cage to which only your hands hold the key. the voice that sent him back to humanity, the endless fuel to the flames of adulation that burn only for you.

ah, there is but one person who calls him by that name. with a steady increase in the dance of his frozen heart, he’ll turn on his heel, ready to accept his beloved into his open arms.

only to be met with a visage that is not who he hopes it to be. his lover did not have shining long hair adorned with some... eccentric bun and braid combo, nor did their clothes incessantly move around as if there were something trapped in them.

wataru hibiki…

“my oh my, what is with that scary face rei!” wataru places his hands up in surrender, “i did mention i am quite well versed in the art of vocal mimicry, correct? i sounded just like your dearly beloved just now, right~?"

rei crosses his arms, brow twitching subtly with what could only be irritation, softly sighing at his dear friend, “you wish to shatter this old man’s heart… my heart longs for my dearest. i have yet to lay my eyes upon them. you have not happened to catch sight of them, have you?”

that’s when your head peeks from behind wataru, “rei-chan~!”

his eyes instantly gleam, body perking up as he sets his gaze upon you, “my beloved!” his arms instantly open, it's almost second nature to them to automatically become a gate to welcome your vessel into his own when he sees you.

such a lovely reunion, wataru laughing at your antics, you leaping into rei’s arms, him twirling you around, passerbyers avoiding your legs.

the only person the two of you get embarrassed using loving nicknames around is ritsu. more on your behalf than rei’s. he notices you refer to him so formally if his brother happens to be around the two of you, and that you stand nearly five feet apart from him much to his surprise. it’s almost as if you aren’t his partner of many moons passed, but the stranger he had met under the moonlight in the cemetery.

ritsu likes to joke that not even his own partner likes rei with how you act around him, and with how you tend to dote on ritsu in a subtle manner, he likes to rub it in rei’s face and claim you like ritsu more. he even lets you call him “ritsu-chan” much to rei’s distress. ( he’s distressed because he wishes to refer to his brother and receive his affection, but also wishes to receive your affection and be refered to by his little nickname. )

ritsu even plays up his actions a bit to steal your attention from rei. he’s a bit tired? he must be carried by you or use your lap to rest. he hit his hand against something? oh, he’s in unbearable pain and needs you to hold it. something scared him? he needs you to hold him and let him hide his face in your chest.

this causes rei to whine, also playing up his old man act and chiding you for give more attention to the young kid rather than your favorite old soul, tells you how his bones ache from practice and he needs you to give him a massage in his room. you ask why not here with ritsu and he sighs in an exasperated fashion, pulling you away from his brother and continuing his dramatics.

“is this old man not enough for you any longer? has our eternity ended so soon? why do you not care for me as you once did? is it because i am no longer in my prime?”

when you try to protest, he simply shushes you, taking your hand into his while leading you away from his beloved little brother, “silence, little one, we have business to attend to. lest… you have forgotten the promises you’ve sworn me? old men need more attention than the youngens, they have enough youth and resilience to bounce back; we do not. now come, help me with my work,”

yes, it is quite a predicament you’ve been put in but you’re happy to just be spending with your precious rei-chan~

[kusuguricafe]

A visit from the tickle monster

A/N: this cute idea popped into my head when I was in a lee mood lmao

Summary: Kaeya is watching Klee for the day while Albedo is finishing up an experiment; Klee and Albedo get a special visitor

Word count: ~1.6K

Characters: lee!Albedo, ler!Kaeya, lee/ler Klee

Kaeya was helping Albedo look after Klee today, since Albedo still had some work to finish up. Kaeya was entertaining Klee with a variety of little games to keep her occupied and out Albedo’s hair. He was playing with her over by the seating area opposite the workspace in the Knights of Favonius laboratory, while Albedo was busy experimenting on the other side of the room. It was perfectly safe since Albedo wasn’t working with any dangerous chemicals or anything like that today. He specifically chose to work on the safest experiment he had on his list because he knew that Klee would be around.

Albedo was happy to hear his sister’s gleeful cheers and laughter from all the fun she was having. It definitely beat her usual whining when Albedo was too busy to play with her. She’s pretty good at keeping herself entertained most of the time, but fish blasting, bomb bowling, and jumpty dumpty hammer throw are only fun for so long. She eventually ends up getting bored, lonely, or… caught red-handed.

“Hey Klee, your brother must have taught you a thing or two about anatomy, right?” asked Kaeya.

“A-nat-o-my?” Klee responded, puzzled.

Albedo was almost finished for the day. He was getting a little tired, too. He was almost getting jealous of all the attention that Klee was getting from Kaeya.

“Yes, you know, like how your body is structured, how everything is put together, and where all of your bones and such are. Those kinds of things.”

“Ohh, right! Yes, he has! Sucrose has told me lots of things about bones too!”

“Figures,” Kaeya said, “So, do you know how many ribs you have?”

Albedo perked up; he knew where this was going.

“Hm… I don’t remember!”

“Let’s find out then, shall we?”

“Okay!”

Klee hopped up onto the couch next to where Kaeya was sitting. He lifted her up onto his lap. He then gently placed his hands onto her lowest set of ribs. He used his index fingers to gently wiggle against a rib on each side, slowly going up in pairs.

“One, two…”

“EEP! Hehehe w-waihaihait, Kaeya thahahat aHAHA!”

“Are you alright, Klee? I’m not hurting you at all, am I?”

“Nohoho I’m fine, it, it just eeEEHEHE!!”

“Three, four… It what?”

“Ihihit, it just tihihihickles!”

“It tickles!?” Kaeya gasped, dramatically.

Albedo was officially jealous. He lost any focus he had left.

“Oh no, Klee, I think, I think I’m changing!”

“Changing? Into what?” Klee turned her head to look up at Kaeya.

“I’m, I’m changing into…” Kaeya raised his arms, making claw shapes with his hands and wiggling his fingers, “the tickle monster!!”

“Ahh!!” Klee squealed as she scrambled to get off of Kaeya’s lap.

He stood up and began chasing her, which was really just walking at a slightly faster pace than normal, since his legs were so much longer than hers.

Klee darted around the room, running around all the furniture, almost knocking over a vase when she bumped into the coffee table. Eventually she went to where Albedo was standing and hid between his legs and the counter.

“Oh! Klee, what are yo—”

“Shh!” She cut him off, “I’m hiding!”

“Ah, right.”

“Oh Klee~” Kaeya called, pretending he couldn’t see her bright red coat sticking out slightly from behind Albedo’s legs, “Where did you go?”

Albedo decided to put down the Erlenmeyer flask he was holding and play along. He turned around to face Kaeya, crossing his arms.

“You there,” Kaeya pointed at Albedo, “have you seen a little girl, about yea big, anywhere around here?”

“No, I don’t believe I have.”

Albedo could hear Klee giggle softly.

“Well, if I can’t find Klee, I guess I’ll just have to feed off of someone else’s laughter!” Kaeya stepped closer.

“Ah, wait, Kaeya, I—” Albedo put his hands out in front of him.

“Who’s Kaeya? I’m the tickle monster!”

Albedo was backed into a corner. Before he had a chance to move, Kaeya had already pulled him into his grasp. He wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, leading him into a tickly hug.

“aH! AHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHO KAEYAHAHAHAHA DOHOHOHOHON’T!!”

“What did I just say!?”

Kaeya had his arms wrapped around Albedo and was digging into his ribcage. Kaeya was holding onto him so tight that he couldn’t move.

“Mmm, what delicious laughter you have~”

Klee was covering her mouth with her hands in an attempt to conceal her giggles.

Kaeya decided to turn it up a notch and began nibbling and giving tickly kisses to the side of Albedo's neck, while still continuing to tickle his ribs with both hands.

“Om nom *smooch* nom nom nom *smooch smooch* so tasty!”

“eeEEEYAAAAHAHAHA PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!! AAAHAHAHAHAHA OKAY! OKAY I LIED! SHEHEHE’S HIDING RIGHT BEHIHIHIND MEHEHEHE!”

“Big brother Albedo betrayal!!” Klee shouted as she uncovered her mouth. She made a mad dash to the other side of the room while the tickle monster was still distracted.

Kaeya released Albedo, allowing him to catch his breath. Albedo was still letting out some residual giggles as he placed his hand over his chest. He was smiling very wide, with a peachy pink hue painted on his cheeks, and his eyes were still squeezed shut with tears of mirth threatening to spill out of the corners. He felt a little lightheaded. Kaeya gently kissed his boyfriend’s forehead before turning on his heel to chase after Klee once again.

“There you are! I’m gonna get you for sure this time!”

“NEVER!!” Klee squealed and she ran around in circles.

Kaeya was chasing her clockwise around the furniture, when he suddenly turned around to go the other way, cutting Klee off when she came around the corner again. He kneeled down in front of her with his arms spread out, ready to catch her. Klee’s momentum was too strong for her to be able to stop in time. She skidded across the tile floor into Kaeya’s open arms, pretty much crashing into him.

“Gotchu! Tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle!” Kaeya taunted as he gently squeezed her sides.

“AAAHAHAHAHA! TIHIHIHIHIHICKLE MOHONSTER!! NOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!”

Kaeya was being a lot more gentle with Klee than he was with Albedo, but clearly the sensations still tickled quite a bit.

Albedo opened his eyes. He found the scene in front of him quite endearing.

“Her ears are very ticklish, Kae—I mean, tickle monster,” Albedo hinted.

“NAHAHAHAHA! ALBEHEDO DOUBLE BETRAHAHAHAHAYAL!” Klee protested.

“Ticklish ears, eh? Just like your big brother!” Kaeya crossed his legs around Klee to hold her in place while he moved his hands up to her ears. He lightly skittered his fingers all over them.

Klee was flailing and squawking incoherent pleas. Seeing her current state, Kaeya slowly came to a stop. He gently massaged her ears for a moment to comfort her.

“eehehehehehe… dihihid, did you say Albedo’s ears are ticklish, too?”

Albedo flushed.

“I sure did,” Kaeya replied.

“I wanna see!”

Oh no.

Albedo nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other for a few seconds before deciding what to do.

“Alright! Want to help me capture him again?”

“Yeah! Haha, this is what you get for betraying me, Albedo!”

Albedo’s eyes widened. He didn’t know what to do. Before he could decide, the two little devils were already after him. In a panic, he summoned a solar isotoma and stepped onto it, getting lifted a few feet into the air.

“Hey, no fair!” Klee shouted.

“You can’t stay up there forever, you know,” Kaeya pointed out.

Kaeya was right, it would only hold for so long. Kaeya and Klee positioned themselves on either side below Albedo, awaiting his inevitable descent. Instead of waiting it out, Albedo leapt off and Kaeya swiftly moved to catch him. Albedo landed in Kaeya’s arms, who was now holding him bridal style. Kaeya leaned down to nibble on Albedo’s ear.

Albedo started giggling uncontrollably and kicking his legs. He wrapped his arms around Kaeya’s neck.

“Bring him down here! I wanna try!”

Kaeya sat down, still holding onto Albedo. Klee began skittering her fingers on Albedo’s other ear and along his neck. Kaeya moved the arm that was holding up Albedo’s knees so that his hand was positioned under them. He started spidering his fingers all around underneath. He started to switch back and forth between that and squeezing them.

“NO! NAHAHAHAHAHAT THAHAHAHAHAHAT!”

Klee noticed and started to squeeze everywhere she could reach around his kneecaps.

“GAHAHAHAHA KLEEHEHEHE STAHAHAHAP IHIHIHIT!”

Albedo was shaking his head back and forth, loosening his braid. Kaeya thought he looked absolutely adorable like this. He noticed that Kaeya was looking at him so he raised his hands to cover his face.

“Ah ah ah~ pretty boys with smiles like yours shouldn’t hide them.”

Kaeya moved one Albedo’s hands away from his face.

“Klee, can you help me with something? I’m going to lift his arms up. There’s a great spot riiiight above his underarms where they meet his biceps.”

Kaeya grabbed ahold of Albedo’s other hand and lifted them both up above his head. Klee then proceeded to tickle both of his underarms, up to that little sweet spot. Kaeya was able to hold both of Albedo’s wrists with one hand, so he snuck the other under Albedo’s shirt to scritch his lower tummy. Albedo’s tears of joy finally spilled over.

“PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE! IHIHI CAHAHAHAHAHAN’T TAHAHAKE ANYMOHOHOHOHORE!!”

“Alright, alright, let’s let him breathe, Klee. It’s okay, Bedo, tickle monster’s gone.”

“He’s a lot more ticklish than I thought! How are you so good at tickling him?”

“Practice makes perfect, I guess.”

Albedo was bright red.

“Aw, your blush is reaching up to your ears! How cute,” Kaeya complimented.

“Shuhuhut uhup.”

“I hope the tickle monster comes back to visit us again sometime. That was so much fun!”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure he will,” Kaeya promised.

[spenciebabie]

When ever you have time can I get a sub spencer where the reader was involved in a case (not the unsub or anything someone they briefly interviewed like a bartender) and she hears Derek call him “pretty boy” and she hooks up with him and calls him pretty boy and rides him and chokes him/her fingers in his mouth. Uhg I love Sub!Spencer

“i adore your writings!! if you're down, would you be able to write smnth about sub spencer and reader? nothing specific, i just read a lot of the same stuff and am looking for some new amazing writings if you know what i mean. <3”

-- --

You know instantly that you want him. His doe eyes, his messy hair, his awkward little smile when he says hello. All if it is just combines with his nervous disposition in an inexplicably endearing way. He almost looks too scared to speak, it takes a nudge from his partner to get him to open his mouth.

“Hi miss, your manager told us- um that- uh- you were working the bar on Friday night?” he asks, fidgeting with his fingers and barely maintaining eye contact. “Oh! I’m Dr. Spencer Reid by the way!”

“Nice to meet you Dr. Reid, I’m Y/N. And that’s right, I was here till about 4am″ you respond and he nods

“Well- um, can you tell us if you saw anyone that looked like this in here that night?” he places a police sketch on the bar and slides it towards you. You study it for a moment but it doesn’t look familiar. And as stupid as it sounds you really wish that it did, maybe then you’d have a reason to keep talking to this guy. 

“No, I’m sorry, he doesn’t ring any bells, I wish I could be more of a help” you say, sliding the picture back.

“Well that’s- um, that’s fine! Don’t worry, but uh- if you do maybe see someone, or anything suspicious, or anything at all” he rambles, fumbling with his satchel and pulling something out, “maybe you could give me a call?” he finishes, placing his business card down on the bar.

“Thank you for your time miss.” his partner says, turning to Spencer “C’mon Pretty Boy, we gotta head back to the station” he says it quiet enough that it’s clear it wasn’t intended for your ears, but you register it anyway. And for a split second you’re jealous. You wanted to call him Pretty Boy too, what an apt nickname.

-- --

Several days go by when you finally pluck up the courage to call the number in Spencer’s card. You’ve got no information but the card’s been burning a hole in your pocket all weekend. So you call against your better judgement.

“Dr. Spencer Reid” he answers on the second ring and you’re almost flustered yourself.

“Hi, it’s Y/N, from the bar the other day?” you respond, and there’s a slight pause.

“Y/N? Did you see something? We- he shouldn’t- we actually closed that case earlier today? Did you have any new information?” he rushes out, clearly dumbfounded, but his nervous tone only makes you want to put him at ease, so you cut right to it.

“No! Nothing like that, I just thought that you might’ve given me your number for another reason too? And I wanted to know if you were free for a drink this evening?” you ask, a lot calmer than intended, and there’s yet another pause.

“Me? You- you want to go- as like- wait, is this a date?” he asks, and you can practically see the shocked expression through the receiver. 

“Well I was hoping it would be a date, if you’re comfortable with that Spencer? I get off in an hour?”

“YES! I mean- yeah! Yeah, that works for me, that’s cool, that’s no problem. An hour? An hour from now?” he rushes out and you can’t help but smile to yourself.

“Yup, an hour from now. How about you stop by the bar then?”

“I’ll see you then!” 

-- -- 

The date itself is short and to the point. It’s not that Spencer’s personality wasn’t endearing, but there was something about seeing him in the flesh again that lit a fire in you. Before he showed up you had all but convinced yourself that you were remembering him a lot more pretty than he must’ve been. But that couldn’t have been further from the truth. He was every bit as perfect and more. And this time he walked in in a cardigan, a fucking cardigan. 

So it was only a waiting game from there, what was an acceptable amount of time to spend in public before you rushed him back to your place. And that ended up being roughly 90 minutes. When you asked him if he’d like to go back to yours he clammed up a little before nodding profusely. 

Once you made it in the door you wasted no time. Your lips were on his every second that they could be, only detaching for the occasional breath or to get clothes off until you’re left in nothing at all. You manage to lead him to the bed, pushing him down against it, just a little rough, and then you’re straddling his lap. 

His cock was as pretty as he was, flushed a delicate shade of pink, hard and leaking were it rested against his stomach. 

“Tell me what you want Spencer” you ask, taking his cock in your hand and pumping it gently, teasing more than anything, but his eyelids still flutter and his breathing stutters. 

“I don’t know- I don’t like to be in charge- I just- ah” he manages to force out between little gasps.

“That’s okay. Do you want me to be in charge baby?” you whisper against the shell of his ear as you lean in close, sucking a little bruise beneath it while you wait for a response which comes in the form of a pathetic little ‘please’.

So you sit up again, pumping his cock once or twice more before rising up and lining it up between your legs. 

“I want you to watch Spencer” you command, but his head stays flat on the bed, his eyes shut at the feeling of your fingers tight around him. So you lean forward, grabbing his jaw with your other hand and pulling it up. 

“I said, watch” you breathe, and his eyes shoot open right as you start to slide down his cock, taking it in inch by inch until it’s disappeared inside you.

“Does that feel good?” you ask.

He manages to nod and moans out a breathy “So good” 

So you finally start to move, rocking your hips up and down along his length, all the time watching him. Transfixed by his features, the way he bites his lips, and how they already looked so full and pink before they were swollen like this. And the matching hue that coats his neck and chest as his breathing grows shakier.

The more you move the louder he seems to grow. Moans and whines tumbling from his lips with each rise and fall of your hips. 

“Such a loud boy” you tease, leaning forward and wrapping one hand around his throat in a loose grip, “Such a Pretty Boy too” you moan as your fingers begin to squeeze at the sides of his neck. Cutting off just enough air to have his chest heaving and his eyes softly closing with a raspy moan.

“You like it when I call you Pretty Boy?” you ask and he nods as best he can in your grip.

“Well it’s true, every part of you is pretty. Your bone structure, your body, your cock, the little noises you make while you’re inside me” you list off, as your hips continue to move, albeit shakier now.

“You know what Spencer, I bet you even cum pretty? Do you wanna show me baby?” you release your grip on his throat and the moans start up again, desperate and loud, but still so melodic.

“I’m- oh god- uh- I’m so close- I’m gonna-” he whimpers as his eyes screw shut and his grip on your hips clenches tight. Your own release is only a moment behind as you continue to ride him, and soon enough your collapsing down onto his chest. Both of your chests rising and falling in an unsteady rhythm as you come down in silence.

“You really are the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen” you breathe once you get your breathing back under control.

[justafairytailofinnocence]

Hello! I am back for another matchup! I hope it’s okay! I just want to thank you so much for your blog and writings they’re incredible! I was wondering if I could get a shadow and bone and house of the dragon one? I’m 20, she/her pronouns and bisexual. For personality I’m creative, introverted, structured, and individualistic. Though I’m introverted, around my friends I can be quite talkative, humorous and outgoing. Though I do get snappy if I’m forced to socialize. I love and treasure my alone time in the bat cave of my room the most. I’m currently in art school working with technology mediums. I love my practice and everything from digital illustration to creative coding. Once I get in the zone, there’s no stopping me on an art or design idea. As for hobbies, i love escaping to new worlds while reading books and comics, watching movies, and playing video games. My favorite genres are fantasy and sci-fi. I have a tendency to read novels and watch their adaptations at the same time analyzing the differences. These stories are definitely inspirations of my art as well. Apart from that, I do love working out, kickboxing and weight lifting. Thank You!

Hello dear 💖, thanks for your request.

A/n: Unfortunately I'm not too familiar with shadow and bone so I apologise if I'm not able to do that fandom.

Instead to make up for it, I've decided to do a love triangle for house of the dragon.

For house of the dragon, I ship you with:

Aemond targaryen 🧿

And

Jace targaryen 💛

You were a noble apart of the old house of Valerya.

Your father betrothed you toward jace.

He took interest in your personality despite you not being exactly the big house type.

Aemond had caught up with you when you were praying in front of the candles.

Aemond also saw you when you were fighting in the training grounds, he saw you beat aegon in a fight.

Jace talks to you alot and he respects you with duty but also a crush.

Aemond decided to train with you and he was quite good with the sword albeit not as good as daemon.

Aemond was quite the looker but you thought of aemond as rather nice.

You also had a slight crush on helaena since she was friends with you.

Jace danced with you at the kings feast and yet aemond got jealous and punched the table making a speech.

Aemond was thinking about killing jace so you would be betrothed to him.

Jace was a generous soul that stuck with you.

If you married jace, he would be devoted to you and he would make you happy, your children would be of targaryen and Valerian blood with your hair and his eyes, they would b3 apart of the blacks, gaining a dragon.

If you married aemond, you would be a princess and your child should be of targaryen blood. They would have your eyes and hair, they would be apart of the greens gained with a dragon.

Anyways that's all I have for now:

Ta Ta ✨️

[nanaminokanojo]

Play the Game | Nanami Kento X You | Part 3/8

CHARACTERS: Nanami Kento X You (fem!reader | PLEASE READ THE NOTES BELOW*) | Gojo Satoru | Geto Suguru | Shoko Ieiri | Utahime Iori | other JJK Characters CHAPTER COUNT: 3/8 WORD COUNT: 4,000+ GENRE: romance | fluff | slight angst | eventual smut | ooc depictions | female reader with described appearance* | modern au | rich people au | aged up characters CHAPTER TRIGGER WARNING: profanity | age gap | strong/mature/suggestive language | mentions of murder/crime/dying | mentions and use of drugs SPOILERS: n/a

collection masterlist

one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight

"Play the Game" Masterlist

"Do you remember the last time I was in your car?"

The hitch immediately started with that one question. It seemed innocent enough with the way you said it in nonchalance while you let your eyes roam the ivory interior of the Lexus. The two of you were only halfway out of the highway when you asked out of the blue, ultimately pissing Nanami off.

At the reminder, his knuckles immediately turned bone white on the steering wheel, his expressions turning dark as he glanced at you, mouth set in a thin line.

He couldn't remember a darker time in his life than watching you almost die from the rear view mirror of his car as you lay shivering on the backseat, unresponsive even if he struggled to both drive, not to crash and keep you conscious. The glassy look about your blue eyes and the way your pupils had blown up to more than twice their size making him shiver. It was safe to say it scarred him for life.

It was a day like any other. He had just gotten off work after a long day at the court, a mix of sadness and elation coursing through him after winning the case for a teenage girl who was brutally murdered. He finally put the man responsible for it in jail for good. It felt good to see the relief on the faces of the grieving parents; to finally put an end to the daily misery they have to go through, having to be reminded of what has become of their daughter.

But as he was resting in his study, a damp towel draped over his tired eyes and throbbing head, his phone suddenly rang. It wasn't yet 10 o'clock in the evening so he opted to answer it, surprised when he saw your name on the screen. You never really called, and the last time you did, it didn't bode well.

"Hello?"

"Suguru..." came your hoarse voice from the other end of the line, your shallow breaths and wheezes evident in each syllable followed by the sound of faintly splashing water.

"You've reached the wrong person, sweetheart," he muttered, reminding him just how Geto was your favorite among Gojo's friends. He did not resent that, but to say he wasn't the tiniest bit jealous was a lie.

Nanami called your name several times but there was no response, just loud rustling and what seemed to be the device falling on the floor with an echo.

"I fucked up big time," you managed to choke out when you spoke again, your tone slurred, and you seemed to be having a difficult time speaking.

"Where are you?"

"I n-need you... p-please..."

"What's going on?" Nanami was already on his feet, dashing out of the study and picking up his keys, still coaxing you to respond when he heard a ding on his phone. You managed to send your location but you weren't speaking anymore.

He was not religious, probably did not believe in a higher being, but as he drove towards your location, thankfully only half a mile away to the suburbs, he found himself fervently praying for your safety.

When he finally got to the address, he found a modernistic structure, a house, and there seemed to be a party going on. He saw some familiar faces, the gallery manager from the previous exhibit of your recent collection and some art connoisseurs he recognized from the same event.

He barged into the house, being handed a champagne flute the moment he entered, everyone welcoming him but he didn't see your face among the people. He refused, asking instead where you were, sprinting up the stairs in large strides when he was told you went upstairs with some people.

Nanami pretty much kicked every door open until he finally found you in one of the upstairs bathroom. He thought his knees would give out as his heart literally stopped at the sight before him.

There, on the half-filled bathtub was you, soaked to your chest. Your white hair was matted over your forehead while the tips floated on the water. You turned your head when you heard him enter, revealing bloodshot eyes, your lips blue and you looked like you didn't have any blood left with your almost greyish pallor.

Hurriedly, he took you out of the tub, carrying you downstairs much to the curiosity of the guests. "You will be okay. Stay with me," he kept telling you.

Despite your state, you managed to smile, tears springing from your eyes. "Nanamin..." you said weakly, making his heart swell that you were at least happy to see him.

He seriously thought you were going to die, but apparently, you did not necessarily overdose on the cocaine you had taken in as he would later find out from the doctors themselves. You had a bad trip and had to be weaned off the substance for the next twenty four hours.

"Are you drug dependent?" he asked when he picked you up from the hospital, opting not to tell Gojo about the matter until he got his answers.

"You won't tell Satoru, will you?" you asked.

"That depends on your answer and whether you're telling the truth," he told you gruffly, fighting hard not to be angry seeing as how fragile you looked. He hadn't slept and he felt as if his nerves were frayed.

You shook your head. "That's the first time. I promise you it won't happen again. I know it's stupid, but I was just curious."

"Your devil-may-care attitude will kill you."

"I know."

He didn't say anything more no matter how much he wanted to scold you and beat some sense into you. He never brought it up and neither did you. That was an unspoken agreement between the two of you. It was your secret which he will carry to his grave and for the last three years since then, nothing like it happened again. You voluntarily cut your ties with the people who were in that party and since then, you had been well.

"Don't remind me," he snapped at you, keeping his eyes on the road.

You’ve reached the shop that Utahime had instructed you to go to for your fitting, but before he could kill the engine, you spoke again.

"Come to think of it, I've never properly apologized for it, and I haven't said thank you enough for saving me that day."

Nanami shot you a sharp look. "I don't want to talk about it."

You sighed and held his hand as he was taking off his seatbelt. "I don't mean to make you angry, but I am sincerely apologizing for it. I am sorry because I put you through that."

Nanami held you by the wrist instead, meeting your gaze with a cold stare. "If you are, then I hope you also realized what a selfish person you are. You're right. You put me through hell. What could I have said to your brother if you died on me that night?"

You didn't say anything, appearing contrite for the first time.

"Gojo would have lost you. Your friends would have lost you." He sighed heavily, holding your hand properly, his expressions softening at how tiny yours looked in his. "I would have lost you."

At his last statement, you nodded and chuckled quietly. "I wouldn't refute that if it saves me. Still, I wanted you to know that it was a big deal for me." You smiled at him. "But that's not all. I could have lost you, but you're still here. So, thanks." And in a surprising turn of events which left him dumbstruck, you lifted both your hands and brushed your lips on his knuckles before disembarking from the car and skipping to the couturier's shop.

His mind wandered throughout the time he was being assisted into the suit that the bride- and groom-to-be had chosen for him to wear on their wedding. He had to give Gojo props for choosing well and suiting the ensemble’s piece to his preference. But he couldn’t quite concentrate on the task at hand when the scene in the car kept playing in his mind. The back of his hand still tingled where you kissed it.

All he wanted to do was see you, but you were a room away, also being pricked and pinned. He wanted nothing but for the fitting to be over so he can be with you again, regardless if it was just for the short drive going back to Gojo manor. Your course of action and words fueled something in him he thought never existed, and he wanted nothing more than to be able to see you, hear you, smell you, touch you. He wanted you, wanted to have you for himself come Gojo or high water. He already knew that, but he never felt as strongly as he did for you than at present because he also knew, that for the first time, you were being yourself and not playing games with him.

Nanami vaguely heard the tailor say something to him, but he didn’t quite catch it, but his image on the mirror suddenly became clearer as he was interrupted from his daydream. His brows furrowed together as he assessed what the man said, but before it could drag on for too long, his cluelessness, he said, “I’m sorry, you were saying?”

“Is the fit just right, Mr. Nanami?” the man asked again, expert eyes scanning over his figure.

“It’s perfect. Thank you,” Nanami stated hurriedly. He couldn’t care less about the suit, but it was already great. He didn’t see any reason to prolong the appointment. “Can I get changed now?”

“Certainly, sir,” the tailor said. “I will leave you to get dressed.”

He just nodded and carefully shed the suit off before changing back into his clothes, meticulously folding the sleeves of his shirt before he set out in search of you. He knocked on the door he was directed to, hearing music playing on the other side of the door along with some voices, one of which was yours.

The door opened and his eyes immediately met those cool blue ones through the mirror. You had your arms spread out to the sides as three women worked around you. “Done already?”

Nanami felt heat creeping up his neck as he averted his gaze. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were far from finished.”

“Oh, shush. I need your opinion.”

He snorted. “Yeah. Like I know anything about this.” At odds to his words, he sat down.

“Your boyfriend is handsome,” the couturier commented with a flirtatious giggle as he sized Nanami up.

“I –”

He was about to protest when you cut him short and said, “Isn’t he?”

“That coming from the person who said she didn’t feel like drawing my face,” he said, feigning annoyance.

“Oh, baby. I can’t draw your face if its saves me.” You flashed him a seductive smile. “You’re too perfect.” You winked at him through the mirror while he just sat down and shook his head in amusement, picking up a magazine but not really reading through it. He just watched as you were directed like a doll to pose whichever way the stylist wanted and he could have sworn he has seen nothing more beautiful.

“Just another pin right here,” the couturier said flamboyantly, fastening this and that around your sides, “…and we’re done!” He clapped his hands, standing back as he admired his handiwork. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s fine,” you said, tilting your head to the side.

“Hmm,” Nanami butted in, closing the distance between him and you. He came closer behind you, silently ordering everyone else out of the room with a succinct jerk of his head before he stood there, eyes on your bare back. He placed both hands on either of your shoulders, towering over you.

You quietly observed what he was doing from the mirror, your expressions unchanging even when he traced your spine with his finger. His lips curled at the corners ever so slightly when you slightly jerked forward when he reached the small of your back, relishing the smoothness of your skin against his calloused digit. He lingered there, drawing circles as he met your gaze on your reflection.

“Isn’t this too low?” he asked, his breath hitting the shell of your right ear. “You’re attending a wedding anyway.”

“Oh?” You twirled around so that your back was to the mirror, while you looked over your shoulder to check what he was saying. The plunging style of the dusty rose gown dipped all the way to your waist. “You think so?” You looked up at him, noticing how his face was just inches away from you. “I think it’s okay.”

“Okay for everyone to see?”

At that, you smiled smugly at him. “And you don’t like that, do you, Nanamin?” you asked sultrily.

“I am your boyfriend after all,” he teased. “While I’d like to brag about you, it wouldn’t sit right with me to know everyone’s seeing what’s supposedly only for my eyes, now would it?”

“I never took you for the jealous – whoa!”

Without preamble, he wrapped a strong arm around you, pulling you close so that you were flush against his chest, a devious smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He wasn’t even concealing his enjoyment anymore. He liked having you close like that, your intoxicating scent dominating his senses.

“Why did you say that to the stylist?” he asked, leaning closer and reveling at the fact that you were caught off guard, eyes wide in surprise.

“It’s easier to just say so than explain, isn’t it?” You leveled your bearing with his. “You didn’t do anything to disagree either.”

“First, you kiss me in front of your brother, flirt with me like it’s normal and say things like that. What are you playing at?”

“Is this one of your games?” you asked, returning his question to you the previous day. You reached up and cupped the side of his face, eyes lingering on his mouth. “Cause I’ll play, Kento.”

He has never quite thought of his name before, whether he liked it or not. It was given to him and he couldn't imagine being called anything else. But he has never liked the sound of it as much as he did when it was rolling out of your tongue. It brought out a strange feeling, spurring him on to give in to his desires instead of holding them back like he usually does with you.

It was all the encouragement he needed. Fuck everything, he thought, dipping his head lower to close the distance between the two of you until he was touching your lips. A quiet gasp left your mouth when he pressed his lips onto yours in an experimental touch, gentle as a zephyr. Your ocean eyes stared at him, taken aback when he pulled away but the dazed look you had was the same one that drew him back to you, landing pecks several times, each one lingering longer than the last.

"Are you teasing me, Nanamin?" you breathed out softly, the laughter in your voice dying out when he captured your lips, this time shutting you up for a good while, coaxing you to respond to his ministrations. He knew he won over you when he felt your fingers grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, pulling him closer, your chest rising and falling against his in shallow breaths, making his heart thrum wildly.

His senses were already heightened whenever you were in the same breathing space as he was, but it was always a different story when you were touching him. Hyper aware. There wasn't a better word that would describe how he felt at that moment. He seemed to see everything he wouldn't usually notice; hear his heart thrumming over every other thought in his brain; almost touch the tension in the air and feel that intense heat blooming from his chest outwards.

But at the same time, nothing mattered but the person in front of him, kissing him and making him feel all sorts of ways. He was a gonner and he knew it but he didn't want to fight it either.

You moaned into the kiss when he gently darted his tongue into your mouth, seducing yours in a fiery dance that united your breaths. His hands made their way up your shoulders, the feel of your soft skin awakening carnal thoughts, making him think of nothing but ways to own you, mark you until he was satisfied. He cupped your face in his large hands, holding you in place, unable to get enough of your taste and the sensations you gave him. They made him crave like a man starved and deprived and he wants to take, take, take.

By the time he pulled away, he was a panting mess, eyes closed as he leaned his forehead against yours, willing himself to calm down. He couldn't help the smile that graced his lips the moment he opened his eyes to find you flushed, lips swollen from his kisses. But that was short-lived when he heard a clinking sound on the side of his head and a wicked grin stretched over your mouth. When he followed the sound, he saw the keys to his car dangling on your fingers.

"What –"

You took a step back when he tried to reach for it, effectively holding it away from him. "Prestidigitation," you declared, sounding victorious. "I'm driving. No arguments."

Nanami sighed, his senses still fuzzy from your kiss and the sight of you whirling around in chiffon and taffeta. He just gave in to his affections for you in hopes of coming out the victor, but you still played him in his own game. "Fine. You win."

You stood on your toes and pecked him on the cheek, stepping off to the side to ring the bell for the shop staff. "I promise not to crash your car."

**

Nanami sat on the passenger side of the car, glancing at the fair-haired villain who stole his car keys, currently driving him to some surprise place of your choosing. He had protested when he noticed how you were going to the opposite way from the manor, taking the highway that led well away from the town. Thrice, he told you to turn back and for every reason he cited, you had a counterattack, not necessarily valid but enough grounds for you to get your way.

"I need to read through the case file and take down notes to make up for the time I'm missing at the firm," came his first excuse but you effectively shot that down by pointing at his briefcase neatly tucked at the backseat.

"Yeah, cause as anal as you are about your job, you don't keep spare copies in your car in cases of emergency."

He jerked on his seat at your comment. "Hey, I'm not anal about my job! I'm just being prudent."

You laughed at the way his voice was raised than usual. "No need to get defensive. Besides, Your initial hearing isn't going to be in two months and by the looks of it, you have everything almost done."

"How did you –"

"I saw them the first day you arrived." Shrugging, it was your turn to shoot him with an annoyed gaze. "You keep forgetting that I have photographic memory. I'm cursed to remember everything."

Truth was, he seemed to be forgetting whose sister you were, letting his guard down and kissing you the way he did. He knew he could have done more if he completely let go of his reins. You were just too tempting, too beautiful and brimming life and infinite galaxies in your eyes which devoured him and made him lose of all sense of time, space and just sense in general.

"Satoru will be looking for you," Nanami attempted for the second time which only earned him an imperious look from you. You said everything in that single action: one, that you didn't care and two, that he was behaving ludicrously.

For the final time, he tried to appeal with something which you would actually give a damn about. "Don't you want to spend time with your friends?"

"Seriously, Nanamin, they're the least of your problems. We're going camping tonight. Besides, they know –" You deliberately stopped talking, your ears turning red, evidently flustered.

"They know what?" he prompted, leaning forward to have a better look at your face to assess your mood.

But then you said, "You're distracting me."

"And you're being evasive."

"If you don't want to spend time with me, just say so." In an abrupt swerve which made his life flash before his eyes, you pulled over to the side of the road, letting go of the steering wheel after you killed the engine. "Drive us home then."

You motioned to remove your seat belt, but Nanami stopped you, shaking his head. Why anything never went right when he was dealing with you was beyond him. "That's not it at all."

"Then what?" you snapped.

Damn, he thought. If the two of you were already fighting the way you are at present, he couldn't imagine how things would be once you were in an actual relationship. Then again, maybe it was the confusion as to what was happening that was causing the unwarranted tension between you two.

He sighed. "You're just too erratic. I can't keep up."

"And you're too fucking vanilla!" you growled.

Nanami was appalled that you would say that same comment in such a way. Leveling his ire with yours, he spat, "That's rich coming from you. Didn't you date that Kamo kid?"

You were stunned at his citation of your former relationship, even more so at his childish attempt at spiting you. It was so atypical of him. "You..." You jabbed a finger at him, about to spit fire when you realized that he cared enough to notice. Your brows knit together. "How did you know about that?"

"You think I wouldn't notice that he's been following you around like a lovestruck puppy during last year's autumn festival?" Nanami scoffed, sneering. "A person like you with someone more boring than the vanilla you claim that I am?"

He was being petty, he knew it, too. The look on your face as you just ogled him in stunned silence says it all. It was as if you never expected him to ever retort the way he did. It was really unusual if he would say so himself since he never really indulged you enough to actually argue with you the way the two of you were doing at the moment.

Out of the blue, you burst out in a fit of giggles, the corners of your eyes watering. "Come to think of it, he acts more like an old man than you do..."

"You dare call me an old man?" He knew your argument was over, but he couldn't help but say it. There was an out of place sense of satisfaction that engaging you in a word joust gave him no matter how unintelligent and shallow it was about.

When you finally calmed down, you said, "I want you to have fun and have a sense of adventure for once. I swear I won't throw your dead body to the ocean."

His left eye twitched at your sentiment. "Well, if you put it that way..."

"Just say yes to me for once."

"I always say yes to you if you haven't noticed by now."

You snickered, starting the engine. "I want you to say yes to me now."

Nanami felt something tug at his chest. "Yes."

"Good." You leaned over and poked him on the cheek.

Nanami sat there, rolling down the window as you drove, letting lose and enjoying the scenery the car passed by on the way to the sea. For the first time in a long time, his face ached from smiling too much, unable to help it.

He knew it and he didn't care if he was doomed. He was in love with you, always have been and always will.

-end of part 3-

*I used “you” here, but since my character is Gojo’s little sister who is established to be his female clone for reasons essential to the plot, she possesses the same blue eyes and white hair. I did not exactly want to create an OC (although technically, I did by describing Y/N), but I opted for the best of both worlds in this fic, leaning more towards the literary aspect of it as opposed to it just being reader/you-oriented. I hope this isn’t iffy to anyone, and yeah, i’m not being exclusive or whatever.

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI'S “JUJUTSU KAISEN.” [20210716]

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[dollfaced-erin]

Not So New Afterall (Sdv Sebastian x F!Reader)

A/n: and i thought this was gonna be a short chapter. There was lots more I wanted to include, but it might bore you guys from the looooong story!! (s if it wasn’t already long in the first place.)

CHAPTER FOUR

The game was set up, and both players stood at their point. Clutching the cue stick tightly in her hand, Sebastian briefly explained the rules to the new girl. She knew the main basics of the game, but she wasn’t sure if she would be able to beat Sebastian. Not while he was looking as smug as he was now.

It was sure who had the most experience here.

Being a good sport, Sebastian gave her the first turn to hit the cue ball. The said female scattered all the balls across the board. Turns began exchanging between the two competitors, and the spectators by the side were literally on their toes.

“What’s got Sebastian so worked up all a sudden?” Abigail said, whispering into Sam’s ear. The blonde shrugged, speechless towards Sebastian’s sudden change from his signature cold and reserved to jealous and competitive.

“Is it because (Y/n) came and everyone liked her?” Sam asked, pulling out one of the most logical reasons he could find. Abigail shook her head, “I don’t think he’ll be affected by that. Was it something between Robin or Maru, perhaps?”

Sam really had no idea. “I really have no idea, but that actually makes sense, or he just wants to show off his moves,” he whispered again. “But do you remember how Sebastian started playing pool?” he asked the dyed- haired girl.

“Quite long ago, actually. It was when we were still kids. Probably when the old farm had the owner before (Y/n). You remember the old man had...a relative was it? And he taught us how to play pool with...that...girl,” Abigail trailed off, her thoughts and memories muddled up in her mind. 

“He really liked to play pool after being taught. Especially when he played around with the girl. Kept playing even though she already left till he became the him now,”

“Really? I don’t really remember, but it must’ve that far away. I think the time you’re talking about was when I just moved here,” Sam replied. “Little girl, you said?” he asked her once more.

“Hm..it seems vague to me, but it feels like a dream too.”

The players ignored the topic the two were discussing, currently trying to focus on their game of pool. But apparently the topic was quite sensitive to Sebastian, making him accidentally hit cue ball too hard, resulting the white ball going off the board and smacking (Y/n) square in her right collarbone.

“Ah!” the girl yelped in pain, her features morphing into one of shock. Sebastian was shocked with what happened and immediately placed the cue stick down, rushing over to the girl he accidentally injured. 

The two gasped at the commotion and leapt of their seats, heading towards the girl. She was wincing slightly at the pain, but most likely from the shock.

“I’m sorry, are you okay?!” he bombarded her with questions, grabbing the arm he hit, pulling the collar of her shirt slightly to get a better look at the injury. He winced. It was starting to redden, most likely about to bruise.

The loud thump from collision of the heavy ball and the bone and the gasps from the game room raised suspicion from the others in the main hall. Even over the music, (Y/n) could grasp the number of eyes being turned in her direction.

“It’s okay! It doesn’t hurt at all!” (Y/n) assured, panicking at the crowd of friends that started to swarm her. This isn’t good. If word gets out from the others in the main hall of the Saloon, who knows what mean rumors would spread out.

“Are you su--” “Let’s take five, alright? Boy, I think I need a drink!” (Y/n) said a little too loudly and off. Abigail realized her eyes were wide and her skin was paling. Her earlier frown was stretching into a stiff smile. 

As things began to settle down once more, the (h/c) girl went to the vending machine and pulled out a grape-flavored fizzy drink. Popping the lid, spun around, glancing at the main hall as she did. Less eyes have been looking at her now. She sighed and unscrewed the cap of the drink, making her way to the bright red sofa Sam previously sat on.

“Come on, guys!” Abigail called, making a face at the males’ questionable expressions, signaling that they should go on with what she had started. Abigail was a quick one to catch on, following the suit and plopping herself on the blur sofa next to (Y/n).

Resting her right arm on the plush armrest, she raised an eyebrow at the guys who hadn’t moved an inch. Sam blinked before letting out a boisterous laugh, heading over to the girls, sitting next to Abigail, the latter bouncing from the force used to sit on the sofa.

Sebastian sighed and tailed after Sam, sitting next to (Y/n), since that was literally the only empty spot left. Guilt was eating away at him, especially when he looked at the angry red mark that imprinted itself on the delicate bone.

“Sorry, Sebastian,” the girl apologized, making Sebastian raise an eyebrow at her sudden apology. “You know that I’m the one that has to apologize, right? But why’d you pretend you were okay?” he asked, leaving the two speechless.

“Bold of you to assume I’m not okay,” the girl said, making all of them crack up at her reference on a certain homework meme. “No really,” Sebastian spluttered between laughs. “Anyways, why’d you do that?”

“I realized that when you crowded me, lots of eyes started to turn. Like, I didn’t want any commotion, not when I’ve just moved here. Sounds cliche, but I am afraid that people will talk bad about you,” she said, a small smile on her face. “I’ve had enough experience with gossip and crowds.”

Sebastian behind (Y/n) wasn’t any better. He looked as if guilt was about to eat him alive. He never knew his strength would accidentally hurt her directly. It’s time he man up for the consequences.

“Anyways, how is your collarbone?” asked the dark-haired male, making the female turn over to him. “Here, let me take a look,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

(Y/n) seemed to have froze at this point. Not even daring to do so much than breathe. Earlier she had the confidence to push him off since there were so many eyes on them, but now? Now she’s just stuck in place as she finally processed that...that...he’s actually touching her!

“Are you sure it doesn’t hurt?” he asked as he tugged the collar of the shirt, getting a closer look at the forming bruise. “Y-yeah!” (Y/n) said, averting her gaze as an embarrassed smile made its way on her lips and her face burned red hot.

Holding the shirt down with his left hand, his right lightly stroked over the internal injury, pressing it slightly with a finger. The pressure made the girl yelp in pain, and he panicked asking over and over if she was alright. 

As much as Abigail was amused with all this, she couldn’t help but feel a little jealous at how he could casually touch the (h/c) girl. She was friends with her first, and she wasn’t about to back off easily.

Deciding to ditch the game they were playing, they called it a night. Robin popped up ‘round the corner. “Sebby! Me and Demetrius are heading back first!” she chirped before her green eyes landed on the farmer. 

“Oh! While you’re at it, maybe walk (Y/n) home! It’s dangerous at night!” she said, nodding over to (Y/n) before she left with her husband...and four speechless young adults.

“It can’t be helped, then,” Sebastian sighed. “(Y/n), Abigail, lets go,” he said, getting up as the two females followed the suit, leaving the place with Sam behind them.

It was a kind of routine, where they’ll part at the Saloon, Sebastian dropping of Abigail at Pierre’s before making his way back home up in the mountains. It used to make him have a...uncomfortable feeling in his stomach, where he’d feel all...embarrassed and flustered. But now? Now he just felt...neutral towards her. Like...he had no feelings for her anymore. He didn’t have ‘the one’ feeling anymore.

But the silence between him and (Y/n) as he walked her back...it was...content. It wasn’t awkward like he initially thought it was. Scratch it. He felt that this was quite nice. A quite walk in the night, no words needed between them, no awkward silence, just....peaceful. But something was bothering his mind.

“Hey, (Y/n),” he started, just as the two had parted ways with Abigail. The girl let out a hum, ensuing him to continue. “I think I’m the only one who noticed, but...when Abby and Sam started to crowd you, you seemed quite...scared,” the girl visibly tensed. “If it’s not too much, what’s up?”

(Y/n) let out a nervous laugh as they walked through the dark bus stop. “Ah, you’re quite sharp, aren’t you?” she remarked. “But...I’ve had my fair share of gossips and crowds. And maybe...they were bad experiences for me. I felt so...not pathetic, but...suffocated,” she trailed off, only to flip back to Sebastian. “I don’t mean that you guys were suffocating! I meant--”

“You meant that the atmosphere of people watching was suffocating, wasn’t it?” he finished for her, making her look down and nod in agreement. The light of the farmhouse began to enter their vision. 

As the two climbed the porch of the house, Sebastian placed a hand on her shoulder once more. “Before I go back, I want to see the bruise once more. Is that okay?” he asked, and the girl nodded.

The two entered the home, and it was a whole lot tidier than the last time Sebastian stepped into the wooden structure. Unlike the last time, it was cold and dusty, but now, it was bright and warm. Almost inviting. For a person who lives in the basement, he wasn’t sure which one he preferred.

(Y/n) shrugged of the jacket and sat on the chair located in the middle of the room, tucked next to a dining table. Sebastian took his eyes off his surroundings and approached the (h/c) girl. Like before, he nudged the collar of the shirt off of her shoulder to get a better look. “I’ll get some ointment for you tomorrow, (Y/n). Sorry again,” he said.

“You don’t need to, Sebby,” she said before she shut her mouth with her hand. “I’m sorry. That was really rude of me. Anyways, this is a pinch unlike the monsters in the caves!” she laughed off, waving her hand. 

That’s when Sebastian saw a faint scarred line dragged around the tip of her shoulder to her back, concealed by her clothing. He stepped forward, grabbing her shoulder once more. An old scar.

“Where’d you get this, (Y/n)?” he said, referring to the scar that imbedded itself into her joint. He really wasn’t one to go on about something small. So what if she had scars here and there? It couldn’t matter to him. She could’ve been injured a while back, right?

 But this...was something he had seen before. And it was in his nightmare. Even before she moved here. But if he remembered right, then the girl in his dream...

“I...I got it when I was a kid. Long time ago really. Doctor said it should go away soon,” she said, a bright smile on her face. But that didn’t satisfy Sebastian. “I said, where did you get this, (Y/n)?” he said, his grip on her shoulder tightening slightly.

(Y/n) trembled in fear at his sudden change of attitude. Panic swirled in her chest. He wasn’t like this. This was so rare of him. “I...I was in an accident when I was younger,” she said. And to him, that was enough.

Sebastian moved (Y/n)’s bangs a little to reveal a jagged line from the hairline and led on into a thin straight line. He knew it. But it couldn’t be the same person in his dream. The girl in his dream died. And he never knew her name or anything.

“Sorry for overstepping, (Y/n)” Sebastian said, releasing her limb, realizing how hard he grabbed her. “I’ll be on my way now,” he said as he turned around. (Y/n) thought that she might’ve triggered him, but Sebastian replied, “If you want, come over to my room tomorrow before 10. I’ll be on my way to Sam’s then,” he said before ultimately leaving.

“Night, (Y/n). Sweet dreams.”

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Hey...I am AN ABSOLUTE jercy TRASH like A HUGE JERCY FAN and I was wondering if you could like a one shot of jealous percy...I have seen a lot of jealous jason fanfics but never really saw a jealous percy!!! Thank you and I LOVE YOUR BLOG SO MUCH...

Hello darling Anon!! Adore that you're #jercytrash (is there really any other way to be????) and I'm so happy you enjoy the mess of content i have🥺💙all the heart eyes

Anyway I loooovvveeeeeddddd this prompt and this is evident by the very many words I couldn't help but write! I do hope you love it as much as I loved writing it☀️please excuse any mistakes it's like 3am here and Ciara be tired as hell

Masterlist

"Are you coming to the party tonight?"

"Gods no," Percy shivers, face pulling into a look of distaste.

"Why not I heard Annabeth is gonna be there," Leo's eyebrows waggle, earth eyes sparkling.

He wants to laugh, to cry a little too. If only that is the blonde he is so infatuated with.

"Nah bro those parties always end up much wilder than they need to be and nine times out of ten they're shut down by the cops."

"That's half the fun Jackson!" Leo's smile widens.

"I'm good thanks, my idea of fun is sitting here playing Playstation and gorging myself on M&Ms."

"Will you at least promise to come on the trip this weekend?"

"I don't know man," He shakes his head, "I've got a psych test to study for and there's like three assignments due by the end—"

"Oh excuses, excuses Jackson you haven't gone out once since we started. It's gonna be winter break soon and we won't see each other for at least a month." Those brown eyes are puppy wide.

He sighs, half-ready to give in, "Who's gonna be there?"

"The usual gang. And Jason finally gets to come this year! His dad is on a business trip so he isn't spending the weekend for once."

Percy's ears get hot and he hopes they don't look flushed, "Oh that's nice I guess. If you leave me alone tonight I'll come on the trip."

Leo's answering whoop is enough to make him laugh. When he collapses on the couch, after waving goodbye to his friend, there is a warmth blooming in his chest.

Three hours, five packets of M&Ms and a stream of curse words at the TV later, he finally decides to head to bed. But as he's shoving on a pair of sleep shorts there's a knock at his door. He frowns, considers ignoring it but his mind whirls with all the possibilities.

What if someone got hurt? What if someone needs his help? What if someone is....oh gods he doesn't want to think about it. He brushes his fingers against the wooden headboard, rubs at his head, grabs his elbow and then he takes a deep breath and opens the door.

"Peerrccccyyy," A slurring, smiling Jason Grace stumbles into him.

"Jason?" He grabs hold of the blonde's arms and pulls them both into his apartment, "What are you doing here?"

"I came over because–" Pearl white teeth flash, "Wow you're so pretty." Those golden hands grab Percy's chin, pulling their faces together until there is nothing but tension and breath between them.

"What are you doing?" He swallows.

"Has anyone ever told you your eyes look like emeralds glistening at the bottom of a river?"

"Uh no can't say they have," He wants to laugh but Jason's lips are so close and his hand is still on Percy's face and oh gods he needs to move before he does something he shouldn't.

"Have we kissed before? No I'd remember that." Eyebrows scrunch, "I think you have a beautiful mouth."

"I think—" He inhales sharply as Jason's fingers dance along his collar bone, "I think we should get you to bed."

"Aw," Full pink lips pout, "But we are having so much fun."

"I think we'll have more fun when you're sober."

The blonde giggles, "I'm not drunk silly. I only had like... fifteen shots of vodka."

"Jesus Grace how are you even standing?"

"When you're this tall it takes forever for the liquor to do its thing and you need a lot of it otherwise it all goes to your toes and you never get drunk."

Jason is frowning again and all Percy wants to do is kiss the crease in his forehead and pull him closer. Instead he tugs him by the hand and guides him to the bed.

"Where will you sleep?"

"I'll take the couch." He pushes the blanket aside and let's the blonde fall into the sheets.

"Are you sure? You can always stay with me?" Those blue eyes are bright and big and so full of, of, of... "I promise I won't kick you. I stopped doing that in first grade."

He can't hold in his laugh this time but when he recovers enough to reassure his friend he'll be fine he is greeted by the peaceful sight of a sleeping blonde. He shakes his head softly, allowing himself a moment to take in the scene. Tangled white sheets, golden hair, soft deep breathing, a tiny splattering of freckles, and the wonder of tomorrow carried on the wind that stirs the chiffon curtains. This moment will live within his soul for the rest of his life. Of this, he is certain.

***

The treadmill beeps incessantly indicating the end of the session and the end of Percy's day. He's about ready to pass out from exhaustion and he couldn't be happier. The days are long and blurry and he would do anything to escape the weight on his chest. A blue-eyed, golden-haired weight. He snorts at the innuendo. If only the actual person was sitting on his chest, entertaining each other. But no it's just the feeling, the emptiness, the lack of anything weighted. His eyes shudder closed as he steps into a red-hot shower and let's the memories of his last meeting with the blonde wash over him. There is a time, mere months ago, where Percy would have scoffed at these feelings. Would have told himself it was ridiculous and stupid and there were much more important things to be focusing on than some boy. But every interaction with Jason Grace feels like the middle of a fireworks display, feels like crawling into the sun, or falling off a cliff only for the water to catch you. Every interaction feels electric. And he cannot help but overanalyse each touch, smile, lingering look. Are they for him, or for the world? Jason had always been easy. He could make you feel like the most important person in the world just by glancing at you. It was beautiful, magnetic, but it also meant Percy never really knew if anything they did was genuine. If the extra squeeze when they hugged was as a friend or something more. If those blazing eyes over the campfire was a trick of the light or... But tomorrow it's their annual WastedWinter trip and at the very least he can look forward to a few nights of bad decisions and sinful delights.

The day dawns bright, cloudless, and icy cold. He breathes in the fresh winter air and lets the sting travel through his lungs. There are few things as lively as the winter morning air. With a look through his apartment window to see the birds flying and the wind shaking the trees awake he ducks into the shower and gets ready for the trip.

At exactly eleven a knock echoes through his apartment. He clicks submit on his assignment and races over to throw the door open.

"Good morning Jackson! You're looking especially radiant this find day."

"Must be the seaweed face mask I put on last night."

"Oh," Annabeth Chase frowns, "And here I thought you got down and dirty with someone."

He snorts, stepping aside to let her in. "No such luck Princess, I'm down and out on laundry."

She smacks his arm, grey eyes sparkling, "I hope you know you're driving for most of this."

"Is this because I'm the only one who can be trusted to get us there in one piece,"

She gives him an incredulous look and then turns her nose up, "No Jackson it's because the rest of us want to get wasted and you don't drink."

"Ah, glad to know I'm of some use to the group."

"Oh you're plenty useful," She winks.

He laughs at that, mind flashing to the fling they had at the start of their undergraduate years. Both had realized pretty early that life was leading them in different directions and it would be better to stay friends. But tumbling in the sheets with her had been fun while it lasted.

"Alright who's in our car?"

"We got me, you," She starts tapping her fingers, "Leo, Jase and Rey,"

"Great so I'll be talking to myself for most of this trip." He rolls his eyes.

"Why do you say that?"

"Well Leo and Reyna will fall asleep about five seconds after we start driving and you and Jason will talk incessantly about gods knows what, which leaves poor old me."

"We will not!" Annabeth's ears go pink as she glares at him.

"Mhmm okay Princess."

"Shut it." She grumbles, shoving him.

Some minutes later they're all piling into the car: Percy driving, Reyna in the front, Leo at the back on the left, Annabeth in the middle and Jason on the right.

"Hello everyone ready to roll?"

"I didn't get nearly enough sleep last night," Leo mumbles and then he's fluffing his pillow against the door and closing his eyes.

"What was he doing?"

"Engineering project," Jason grins, "He forgot and had to sit up all night to submit before we left."

"I'm also out," Reyna throws up an uncharacteristic peace sign and settles into her seat, eyes already shut.

"And her?" He asks, a little sore his right-hand passenger is ditching him for dreamland.

"No idea," The two blondes shrug.

Percy refrains from rolling his eyes and puts the car in gear. With a final check to make sure everything is in its place he pulls onto the road and starts the long journey to Lakeside Lodges.

The music is soft, some pop song that everyone is raving about, and the city is alive with the lunch hour rush.

"Jason," Annabeth starts, "What are you doing for the structural—"

Percy tunes them out, content to let their university talk become background noise. He glances at the rear-view mirror and sees shining blue eyes staring intently into serious gray ones. He looks away, focuses his attention on the road.

Sometime later they leave the city behind, the sound of cars and sirens and endless people fading into calmer, more lilting noises. The quiet of the empty road, and the crackle of the radio, and the soft chatter from the backseat. He cannot help but feel at peace, feel as if the world is balanced just right.

Annabeth giggles, catching his attention and he watches in the mirror as Jason lays a hand on her thigh and laughs into her shoulder. Quickly he adverts his eyes, swallowing the sinking feeling and turns the music up to distract his thoughts.

"Percy," At tap on his shoulder. "Pers?"

"Yea what's up?" He smiles and it feels like surgery with no anaesthetic.

"Did you hear what Jase said? It was such a stupid joke I said you'd appreciate it."

He shakes his head, "Wanna tell it again?"

"Nah," Jason mumbles, "Won't be as funny the second time."

"Aw come on Jase," Annabeth pouts, "For me?"

He watches from the mirror as those blue eyes light up, "What do you mean for you? I thought I was telling the joke for Mr Driver?"

She giggles, shoving at his arm, "That's what I mean."

Percy isn't sure he can't take anymore of their whatever it is so he clears his throat and asks them for a pack of Sour Patch Kids.

"Oo I love those!" Jason gasps, rummaging around in their snack bag. A packet drops into the cup holder and he thanks the blonde.

"Jase throw them at me, let's see if I can catch!"

The six gummies shoved in his mouth turn bitter as he watches the two giggle and joke and share space. By the time Jason throws the last gummy Annabeth is practically in his lap to catch it. Percy wants nothing more than to get out of this damn car. His skin is hot and he's sure his blood is about two degrees away from boiling. The stones in his stomach are stacking up like rock scultputres. Pretty but destructive. Nothing can get passed but nothing can leave either. And the heavy, sinking feeling certainly doesn't seem to be going anywhere. Finally though they arrive at the lodges and after check in he practically vaults himself out of the car and disappears into a bathroom.

There staring in the mirror he can see his misery reflected back at him. His green eyes are stormy, and there seems to be a permanent crease in his forehead. His mouth is down turned and his hair is in a state of complete disarray. Tugging at it when he's frustrated is an unbreakable habit.

He stays in the little bathroom for longer than he thought because he is sharply pulled to the present by a rap on the door.

"Percy?"

"Coming," He sighs. He straightens his back, attempts to tame his hair, and plasters a smile on his face.

"You good?" Frank frowns when he walks out.

"Yea sorry, drank one too many slushies."

His friend laughs, "Tell me about it. I think my tongue is going to be stained red for a month."

"I mean that's your fault. Blue is clearly the superior slush."

"Blue is the worst flavor," He scrunched his nose, "It isn't even a flavor. They somehow managed to give colour a taste."

"Well red is nothing but iced medicine."

"Hey guys," Frank waves their friends over, "Percy thinks blue slushies are the best flavour, care to tell him he's wrong?"

There is a pause amongst them and then everyone is talking at once.

"No,"

"I mean I kind of agree."

"Green is obviously the best."

"There is no way, it's red all the way."

"What about-"

"Okay!" Annabeth shouts, "Let's settle this WinterWasted style,"

Leo rubs his palms together, a gleam in his eyes.

"Everyone who says red stand on one leg, everyone who says blue stand on anything but the floor."

They all shuffle around, pushing each other over and generally causing chaos but soon they're in their spaces. Everyone observes the room.

"That's four to red and three to blue." Leo announces.

Jason, Percy and Hazel are standing on the couches and counters. Piper, Annabeth, Leo and Frank are on one leg in the middle of the lounge.

"Yes! We won." Frank smirks, "Alright losers you know the drill."

"No!" Percy yells, "We're missing a person. If Reyna joins us then we're even and we go into death round."

"Okay Jackson, I see you can't take the loser title sitting down so we'll get Reyna's opinion. But if she chooses us you guys have to drink and jump." Frank's black eyes sparkle with mischief.

Percy narrows his own, pinning his gaze on his friend, "Deal Zhang."

Just then Reyna walks in and seeing the odd scene sighs heavily. "What are we trying to settle? We haven't even had lunch yet."

"First of all it's six o clock so it's a little late for lunch and secondly are you Team Red Slush or Team Blue Slush?"

She scoffs, looks over them and grins, "I'm Team Purple because grape is obviously the only valid flavour."

Everybody groans, cursing her.

"Grape is the absolute worst Arellano." Leo gives her a look of disgust.

"Mhmm," She simply smiles.

"Well if you had to choose between blue and red which one?" Percy asks.

She taps her head for a moment and then looks to the ceiling in exasperation, "Guess I'll choose Red."

"Hell yes!" Frank whoops, laughing as the blue team groans. "Guess who's doing the BigFalls jump tonight!"

Percy grumbles but there is a light in his eyes and as he swats away a hand ruffling his curls he decides it was worth it, even if his friends are wrong.

That night they all stumble to the GreatCliff, an area that had witnessed many a fall, kiss, and confession. Most importantly a place that held some of their favourite memories.

Percy, being the only fully sober one, constantly counts his friends, making sure none of them have gone over-cliff or landed in a ditch somewhere. Soon enough they make it to the clearing and lay down the picnic basket and their towels.

"Alright losers," Piper smirks, "You ready for this?"

Hazel pouts, "Do we have to?"

"Yes!" Annabeth exclaims, blonde curls bouncing as she jumps up and down in excitement.

Jason whispers something in her ear and she dissolves into giggles. Percy looks away, refuses to let their closeness ruin his night, weekend, forever.

"On the count of three," Frank starts.

Reyna takes off her sarong and settles down on the blanket with a smirk.

"One..."

Hazel bounces nervously.

"Two..."

"Don't get hypothermia," Piper laughs.

"Three!"

Jason, Hazel and Percy are sprinting, racing for open air. With a yell they jump and then they're free falling, flying, screaming.

Percy hits the water in a neat dive, barely flinching at the icy temperatures. When he comes up for air the world is noisy with laughter and cheering. He waves to his friends at the top of the cliff and checks to make sure his fellow jumpers are okay.

Hazel is grumbling about being fully sober again and Jason's teeth are chattering but there are smiles on their faces and stars in their eyes and Percy knows the weekend has just begun.

They all swim up the stream and climb all the way back to the cliff where a small fire is crackling and their friends are dancing sporadically to a bawdy ukelele tune being played by Leo.

"Oh gods," Jason groans, "How are we already at this stage of the night."

"Whatever Pipes put in the punch is going straight to our lungs," Annabeth giggles.

Reyna shakes her empty glass in confirmation and request. Soon everyone is hopping and bouncing and singing badly around the fire. Percy settles into the blanket and watches his friends. They are full of life and magic and he can't help but tear up at the love he has for them. Even Reyna is joining the revelry, laughing bright and beautiful at something Hazel says.

His attention catches on the twirling figure of Annabeth. And then Jason grabs her mid spin and pulls her to him.

"Dance with me,"

"Of course Mr Grace," She bows.

They draw together, his hands on her hips, her head on his chest, swaying slowly. Annabeth mumbles something and Jason's shoulders shake with laughter. She looks up, their eyes meeting. Percy can't stand to watch anymore. Abruptly he gets up, throws the blanket aside and stalks into the trees.

"Pers?" Someone calls. He doesn't bother to respond.

He hears scattered conversation and then footsteps are running towards his retreating figure.

"Percy wait!"

He manages to hold in a groan as he realizes who followed him.

"Pers slow down, what's going on?"

"Nothing," He grits, "I just needed some air."

Jason laughs, "We are literally in the middle of a forest how much more air do you need?"

They're still stalking through the woods, dead leaves cruching under their feet.

"Come on, what the hell happened? You just up and left?"

Percy stops in his tracks, whips around to face the blonde, "I'm surprised you noticed."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You've been so wrapped up in Annabeth all day I wouldn't be surprised if you forgot to breathe unless she told you to." He spits.

Jason's face crumples, "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Percy instantly regrets his words but he can't take them back, "Just nevermind. I'm going to the cabin. Be careful walking back." He turns to walk away but a golden hand on his arm yanks him back

"Um no, you're going to explain right the fuck now because this isn't like you at all."

"Isnt like me?" He laughs sharply, "What isn't like me?"

"This," Jason motions up and down, "You walking away, being angry with us? What is going on?"

"I'm just tired," He sighs, "Can we drop this?"

"No Percy. I've seen you tired. I've seen you so exhausted you couldn't even see straight. I've seen you sad and angry and frustrated and happy and excited and calm but I have never seen you so... volatile. So just tell me—"

"I'M JEALOUS OKAY!" He yells, "I. Am. Jealous."

Jason reels back, lightning eyes blinking, once, twice, widening, "You're jealous?"

"Yes," He breathes, "And I'd appreciate it if we stopped talking about this."

"Oh," Is the blonde's intelligent reply.

"Yea oh," He scrubs at his face, running a hand through his hair.

"You're jealous of me? If you liked Annabeth why didn't you just say so? I wasn't flirting with her, we were just being dumb. I've had a few too many tequilas and she's hilarious and gods I'll back off I swear I didn't mean to hurt you. I'll even hype you up to her if you—"

"You are such an idiot," Percy growls and then he grabs the blonde by the t-shirt, pulls him in and sears their lips.

Jason tastes like the sky, like winter breezes and lightning storms and home. He tastes like home.

When they break apart Jason is gasping, mouth opening and closing.

"Do you get it now?"

"You- and I- and we- and Anna- and just- and-"

"Are you speechless because you don't know how to let me down easy or because I took your breath away?" Percy winces.

He needs to know. Needs to understand if this is a one-sided thing, if he's been dreaming up their dynamic all these months.

"Do that again," The blonde breathes.

A slow smile spreads across his face and then Percy Jackson cups Jason Grace's cheek and comes home at last.

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Meant To Be: Part 6

Pairings: Machine Gun Kelly x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, drug use, smut

Word Count: 3,253

A/N: Y’all can thank @wings-of-a-raven for this one….

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alright close…”

“Colson, I am not closing my fucking eyes with the baby in my arms.” You snapped before he could even finish as you headed toward the front door with a shake of your head.

“Do you have any fucking idea how much of a buzz kill you are sometimes, bitch?” He asked as he stopped at the door. “Alright, so I called some people… and I hope it all works for you ‘cause I didn’t know what the fuck half the shit was.”

“What did you do, Colson?” You sighed as you hiked Gage up on your hip a bit more and quickly caught his hand before he could pull on your hair while he babbled away.

“I fixed it.” He said with a shrug as he pushed the front door open and stepped inside. You instantly noticed the stair case, which now had plexiglass along the banisters, and a decorative baby gate at the top and the bottom that matched the black wrought iron, perfectly.

“Babe.”

“You wanted a medium.” He said with a shrug. “I mediumed.” Your head bobbed slowly as he turned you to lead you toward the living room, where some of the crew were hanging out along with a woman you hadn’t seen in almost two years.

“Sawyer!” You cried, making her whip around toward you, sending her half black, half red hair flying in an arch behind her.

“You’re here!” She screeched as she jumped to her feet and handed Slim the joint in her fingers, that you realized you hadn’t smelled the way you normally did when you stepped into the house. “Did he tell you?”

“Tell me what?” You asked as you gave her a one armed hug, but Kels quickly pulled you away.

“Not there yet.” He said as he pulled you a couple steps over toward the entertainment center. “Look, straps and shit so it don’t fucking fall, drawer locks that apparently keep JP at bay, too.”

“Hey!” Rook shouted from the couch as the rest of the group taunted him.

“We got these things.” Kels continued as he tapped a knee high box beside you with his toe. “Air purifiers or some shit. Dude said they were the quietest shit on the market so each room’s got one.” Your heart melted as he brought you around each room of the house, showing off every little thing he had had done to ensure that Gage was absolutely safe in the typically wild household. Every door handle and outlet had a cover, every drawer was latched closed. He even went as far as making sure there was a table that was about five feet tall and had a four inch plexiglass lip around the edge to ‘keep the drugs in one spot.’

“Colson.” You said as you looked over at him with a stunned expression as you tried to come up with the words.

“Not done.” He said as he spun you back toward the stairs. “So as you saw, Rook got moved.” He started as he held the gate open for you. “And let me tell you, fixing up his damn room cost me an arm and a fucking leg. But… Gage now has his own room.”

“Jesus.” You gasped as you walked in and looked around the ‘rockstar’ room that you were honestly a little jealous of. “How the fuck did you do all this?”

“Text messages and phone calls when you were napping.” He said as he shut the door and sent someone a text. Your brow furrowed and you looked over at him while setting Gage down to play as the floor beneath your feet started to vibrate the slightest bit. “Sound proof.” He said as he pointed up to a camera above the door, one in the far corner facing the crib and the door, and one on the crib facing the bed. 

“Baby monitors. So you can have fun and keep an eye on him at the same time. And Sawyer has agreed to be our nanny of sorts for the low, low price of rooming with Rook, some first class seats around the world, and some weed as payment. I’m working on fixing up the bus so you guys can come with me to fest and when we go on tour here in the states next year after we all go to Europe and…” His thought was cut off as you cupped his jaw in your hands and kissed him with tears in your eyes. He smiled against your lips and slid his arms around your waist as the tension he was carrying in his shoulders slipped away. 

“Thank you.” You whispered when you pulled away to rest your forehead against his. “Baby…”

“You two belong here.” He said softly as he carded his fingers through your hair. “Not in your own fucking place. Not out of my fucking arms. I won’t fucking lose you again, baby girl. I won’t make it…”

“I’m not going anywhere.” You whispered as you pulled back to search his eyes. “We’re a family. We’re here, together.”

“Fuck yes we are.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ba-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na.” You sang loudly, changing the lyrics to ‘All The Small Things’ by Blink 182 the slightest bit since you were feeding your 10 month old a banana for dinner. “Ba-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na.” Gage squealed, took the cut up piece of banana out of your fingers and shoved it in his mouth, completely ignoring the last few pieces of shredded chicken and rigatoni on his high chair tray for your much more entertaining food of choice. “Ba-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na!” You screamed as you threw your hands up and danced in a circle in the rented RV, until your eyes landed on a cell phone and the person that was holding it in the doorway.

“So this is the fun I’m missing out on.” Colson teased. “Well fuck, baby. I wanna join!”

“Well here’s the ba-na-na-na.” You laughed as you handed your boyfriend the banana and the knife. “Small bites. I’m gunna finish getting ready…”

“Late night! Come home!” Kels said over you in a forced horse tone as he handed Gage the next bite while head banging to the music on your phone. With a giant smile, you headed back into the bedroom and pulled off his shirt to reveal your fest outfit that was thankfully banana and pasta sauce free thanks to your mock apron. Your head bobbed the slightest bit as you double checked your hair was still messily decent before grabbing your Doc Martens and heading back out toward the bathroom.

“The fuck is that?” Kels demanded as he almost instantly stopped dancing and stood up straight to look at you. “Oh no. Fuck no, you’re not wearing that!” You stopped dead in your tracks and cocked your eyebrow at him before slowly looking down at your outfit.

“You’re really gunna fucking say that to me.” You said simply as you looked back up at him, pointedly.

“Yea, cause you look like a stripper… is that my shirt?”

“Not any more.” You hissed as you stepped into the bathroom.

“Babe, you’re a fucking mother!” Colson shouted as he handed Gage a slice of banana and stormed over toward the bathroom where you were starting to do your makeup.

“And what, a mother can’t wear a cut off shirt and…”

“And fucking underwear!? You’re wearing fishnets and a fucking garter belt…”

“And what, you think you can tell me what to wear again all of a sudden, asshole?” You snapped as you turned and shoved him out of the bathroom and into the wall.

“Yea, when you dress like that!” You took a step back and popped your jaw in aggravation.

“OK.” You said with a nod as you tossed your makeup on the counter and grabbed the edge of his shirt, which you had cut up and tied to the point where it barely covered your breasts. “Here, I’ll just go like this.”

“The fuck you are!” He shouted even louder as he looked at the XX tape that you had strategically placed over your nipples before he saw the back of the high waisted bathing suit bottoms you had on that left little to the imagination. “WHAT THE FUCK, HOE?!”

“Come on, baby boy.” You cooed with a smile as you pulled the tray off the high chair and set it on the table since he was done eating anyways. “You and your slutty Mommy are going home because I am not putting up with this shit again.”

“No… fuck. OK, wait, hold on.” Colson said as he quickly ran around you and stood in front of the door. “OK, you win.”

“It’s not about fucking winning, Kels.” You sighed as you pulled some chicken out of Gage’s hair. “I’m my own fucking person and I make my own fucking decisions, right? Which means, that at my age, I can discern what is appropriate to wear to a fucking music festival, where I do not have my son with me, and where I’m going to be doing drugs for hours on end while someone else parents for the night. So yea, mama’s gunna be a fucking skank for the night. Mama’s gunna get fucking drunk in the skimpiest outfit she can because I fucking can. 

And if you don’t fucking like it, you can stay here with our son and give Sawyer the night off of nannying and editing books and shit to party with me. Or, you can shut the fuck up about what I’m fucking wearing, give your fucking son a bath, and come get fucked up with me. Appreciate the fact that your baby mama still fucking has it and appreciate the fact that you’re the one tapping this ass. Bath time, baby boy.” You leaned forward and kissed the slightly annoyed look off Colson's face and passed him Gage with a huge smirk. “Tell me what to fucking wear again, and there will be no discussion. I’ll just punch you in the fucking throat.”

“Bitch, I fucking dare you.” He growled as he stood where he was and looked at your only partially covered ass. “You do look hot as fuck, though.”

“I know!” You called out over your shoulder as you grabbed your shirt off the floor and stepped back into the bathroom to do your make up. “Bath, Colson. I wanna get fucked up with my pain in the ass, control freak baby daddy.”

——

The music in the dome was so loud, it was almost literally rattling your bones, but you welcomed it with open arms. Your heated skin was covered with a sheen of sweat as you danced, mesmerized by the strobing colorful lights that were flashing in a random pattern across the white tent and PVC pipes that created the structure. Colson’s fingers traced your side like a feather, creating electric tingles trail in their path, as you danced with Ashleigh with your ass on his hip. You knew, just by the way he subtly shifted away then toward you and 

by the way his fingers would grip your hip periodically as you danced, you were driving him crazy, but he was still acting like ‘Kels’ and not the ‘Colson’ you wanted.

“Colson.” You whined as you turned and pressed up against his bare chest between songs, distracting him from whatever it was that he was saying to the crowd about some movie you didn’t care about. “I need you to please, PLEASE bend me over fucking anything and make me forget my own name. Please Daddy…”

“Movie now.” He said a little quickly as he pushed you past him toward the stairs. “I’ll be out in tent city later on. Diaper duty and shit…”

“Colson!” You hissed from the bottom of the stairs because he was taking too long.

“Fuck you, I’m coming.” He barked as he passed the mic off to Mod without a second glance. You grabbed the edge of your shirt and playfully pulled it up in the darkness behind the tent, which made Colson growl at you as he stepped out behind the tent. “Just fuckin’ asking for trouble.”

“So worth it.” You yelped as he picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder like a rag doll, which simply turned you on even more. You whined and slid your hands down his back to grab his ass as he headed down the short row of RVs. He retaliated by slapping your ass and thigh as hard as he could a couple times, guaranteeing that you would not be able to dress so risqué the next day.

“Show everyone whose ass this is.” He growled as he yanked the door to your RV open, startling Sawyer who was sitting at the table, working.

“And that’s my cue.” She said quickly as she gathered all her things and leapt to her feet.

“Thanks Soy.” You said from your upside spot with a small smirk and wave. “Got him from here.” She nodded her head, tossed her work on the bed above the drivers seat where she and JP were ‘sleeping’ and glanced into the pack and play that was set up in front of the couch before hurrying out the door to go party for a while. You squealed as quietly as you could when you were tossed on the bed and smirked up at the love of your life.

“You’re in so much fucking trouble, bitch.” Colson growled as he put one knee on the bed and reached up to snap the strap holding your fishnets up against your inner thigh. “Fuck… you are one sexy mother fucker, babe.”

“Why are you talking?” You asked as you used the edge of the bed to kick off your boots. “Daddy, please…”

“Say it again.” He groaned as he quickly pulled his jeans and boxers off and tossed them to the side. 

“Daddy.” You cooed with a smile as you took off your shirt and tossed it to the side.

“Fuck, I missed that. No, fucking leave ‘em.” He said as he whacked your hands before you could pull off the tape on your nipples. “You’re in fucking trouble. Making me watch men stare at your ass all night long. And then you started fucking dancing.” You whined and squirmed on the blankets as he snapped the other side before quickly bending down to bite the red spot he had made. Your whine caught in your throat as he scraped his nails down the back of your thigh, knowing you loved the pain as much as he did.

“Colson please…”

“Fuck you.” He barked as he snapped the strap again. “Teasing me all night.”

“I’m gunna fucking kill you if you don’t…” You yelped as he quickly reached up and ripped off one of the strips of tape before covering your mouth with his hand.

“Bitch, I fucking dare you to try to act like the fucking boss here.” He said, as he fit his hips between your thighs. “We both know I’m the fucking boss between these thighs. Isn’t that right, bitch?” You nodded your head and squeaked again as he popped the straps once more before he pushed your bottoms to the side and pushed himself in. Your jaw dropped and you cringed when he scratched the back of your thighs harder while hiking your legs up on his hips.

“No foreplay at all here, huh?”

“You had plenty of fucking foreplay on the fucking dance floor.” He said as he leaned down and kissed you roughly. “And I don’t think you can not wake up Gage if I go down on you…”

“Fine just shut up and fuck me.” 

“Getting fucking bossy again.” He cooed with a devilish smirk as he spanked the side of your thigh and your ass. “Daddy’s not liking the…”

“He’s gunna be really fucking pissed if he doesn’t fucking fuck me.” You groaned as you tried to roll your hips against his, but with the way he was laying, you couldn’t move much at all.

“Oh, no…” He tisked with a shake of his hand as he dug his nails into your left thigh with one hand and placed his other on your throat. “Who’s the fucking boss?”

“No.” You said, daringly as you grabbed his wrist with both hands, begging him with your eyes alone to give you more than the torture he was giving out currently. “Please…”

“Who’s the fucking boss?” He growled lowly as he leaned forward so that his mouth was right beside your ear. His grip tightened around your throat and your whole body tensed. “Answer me.”

“Daddy…” You whispered as you moved your hand to cup his jaw so you could gently push his face above yours. “Daddy, please.”

“Tell me, baby.” He said as he searched your eyes, loosened his grip for a moment, and steadily started to pick up his pace. “Who’s your fucking Daddy.”

“You.” You gasped between gasps as you tangled your fingers in his sweat dampened hair. “Only you.”

“Damn fucking right.” He said with a giant smirk as he pulled your leg up on his hip more so he could pick up a bruising pace. You nodded your head and stretched so that you could capture his lips to conceal your moans. Colson molded you like putty, taking his time to add bursts of pain to your pleasure with the garter belt straps and the tape on your chest, just as you did every time you clawed at his shoulders and back, needing him closer and deeper.

“Baby please.” You begged when you hit the edge you needed to sail over.

“Stay there, baby girl. I’m almost there.” You nodded your head and slid your hand down his back to just above his perfect ass.

“Come with me.” You whispered as you dragged your nails across his tats, which made him him tighten his grip on your throat even more.

“Fuck yes…” He growled out as he found your clit with his thumb and threw you over the edge.  Your whole body tensed and your fingers and toes curled as he buried himself deep and came with you. He let his grip on your throat go and buried his face in your hair to muffle his swearing as you took a deep, shuddering breath and slid your arms around his back.

“Damn, baby.” You sighed as he pulled out of you but rolled you both on your sides. “Fucking love you.”

“Fucking love you.” He huffed with a smile as he tilted your chin to look at the handprint he almost purposely left on your throat. You can see the satisfied smirk playing behind his eyes as he brushed his thumb across the forming bruise as the lie formed on his lips. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” You giggled as you unsnapped your garter belt from your fishnets to take them off. “You stayin’ with me and the baby or are you going back out?”

“Probably gunna smoke a joint with you, and go out to tent city for a bit.” He sighed as he rolled onto his back to find his jeans.

“OK just help me move the play pen in here before you go so that Rook and Sawyer don’t wake up Gage.”

“Will do, baby.”

Part 7

[backandimbamon]

part II

Damon thinks and thinks and obsesses over what happened only an hour ago, with Bonnie now resting peacefully beside him, hair curving to frame her face like a cradle. There’s a little content smile on her lips as if she hadn’t sobbed herself to sleep. Her dorm bed is hardly enough room for their two horizontal bodies so her arms are wrapped around his waist, ear pressing against his chest; she’s warm against him like a furnace.

It is almost as if she never took a bulldozer and plowed through the wall of defense she built for herself throughout the years. Like her breakdown was an illusion. Not a groan of inadequacy or dissatisfaction fell from her lips because she is sleeping now and she’s therefore okay. Mystic Falls is far away and can’t touch her in her dreams.

He never really thought about it so restlessly or even evaluated the effects that his very messy decisions can have on the circle surrounding him.

He never properly pondered the effects that it does have on the person he wears like a shield, Bonnie Shelia Bennett.

The tiny little witch with the huge heart, it is so easy for people like him-narcissists- to manipulate and bait and make expendable without a thought.

And he’s supposed to be her best friend.

Why does she have to be so selfless and caring and, and perfect? The world takes advantage of people like her and feasts on all the loving, generous, kindhearted people it can because there’s not plenty to go around. Damon knows this. Bonnie pours into them like it’s her obligation, like she has to but she doesn’t.

She doesn’t.

How could they have allowed this for so long? Without even asking if she’s okay or... sane? Thoughts of Bonnie and her well-being haunt him and it could be hours or minutes but the swarm of memories and his newfound concern whisk away the time.

He knows it’s later than he thinks when the door opens with a slow creak, announcing Caroline’s return. There’s the sound of tip toeing before she turns on her lamp switch and no, she doesn’t expect to see Damon looking like she has disturbed him or something.

He gives her an accusatory glance, noting her heels in hand the stench of dumb jock on her like an eau de parfum.

“Fun night, Blondie?”

She’s surprised to see him still there, and not pleasantly.

Damon doesn’t understand how she whispers shrilly but she manages to go into an ear-injuring tirade, scolding him about The Real World and how it isn’t the prison world because, for once, everything isn’t about him. The words seem to flow so freely and practiced that he starts to think this is no improvisation and Care Bear has had this thought on her mind for some time. She says he’s holding her best friend back and that Bonnie long left the “Damon Cubicle” when she returned home so he should stop acting like she’s the only person to exist in this world so she can do the same.

Her chest heaves after her rant and she sighs like she just released a burden. It’s not how she pictured this intervention would go, unloading like a floodgate too early or too late in the wee hours of the morning, but not even she can stick to the plan sometimes. She loves her friend too much to allow Damon stagnating her progress, her wellbeing, her life- for any longer.

“What if Bonnie just adores me and my company,” he says, mostly to annoy her.

Dogmatically Caroline replies, “Stockholm Syndrome.”

He feels a sting in there somewhere that mentally makes him go “ouch.”

“You’re just jealous Bon likes me more.” He only replies to have the last word so none of her remarks can sink in too deep. He’s had his fair share of overthinking for the night.

Damon leaves before she can come up with a rebuttal.

——

Bonnie awakens with a hangover and her hair nearly strangling her and it’s the first time that she’s noticed how fast her hair has grown. It gives her a feeling of relief because she can say good riddance to the bob she thought she’d love forever until it almost came to that. Forever.

She fingers a long, dark strand between her long, light nails and feels a quiet satisfaction amidst her pounding head.

Quickly, her memory is back and the feeling of mortification upends her self-admiration.

She spends most the morning trying to hide her moodiness about last night. It lingers in her head all day because she doesn’t do that- it’s not her. Tequila is to blame for her break in character, the sensitivity, the temperament, the peck, the bite. The bite. she violently pushes the flirty advances at Damon into the far recesses of her mind until it’s flimsier than a memory.

Damn that alcohol.

She did want to thank him for everything but he’s gone in the morning and she understands- she does. It’s not like she feels a glimmer of something tug at her heartstrings, it’s not like there’s a smudge of disappointment in the pit of her gut.

She easily loses herself in Caroline’s telling of her sex escapade from the night before, only a tiny bit envious that she doesn’t have one to share with her. But, she tells herself, she would rather have no story than one with Damon.

She laughs on queue at Caroline’s punchline.

When she’s done reliving her adventures, Caroline looks at her with an almost matriarchal love in her eyes because she is so happy to have her best friend back. Her skin is all glow-y and she looks gorgeous, really, with her long lashes and flushed cheeks. She looks alive.

She reminds her of high school Bonnie, right before she discovered her lineage. Her hair was almost as long as it is now, and she has the same fiery look in her green eyes but more complex. Caroline hasn’t seen Bonnie look so light in years- and why did she ever cut her hair to begin with?

“You look amazing, Bon,” she gushes, but there’s something about her that she can’t quite place her finger on.

She knows that look. Bonnie is the only one in their trio that has never worn that look.

It’s the face she herself wore with Klaus, the face Elena wore with Damon. The layered gaze of someone who knows something they won’t share.

She wants to know but she’ll give it some time because, she thinks, the answer may not be as hard as it seems.

——

Bonnie always thought a blind date consisted of meeting someone new; a blank slate of sort so she can decide whether or not this person is a solid addition to her life. If not, she will have her fun, receive another free meal or two, get that itch scratched if she’s brave enough, (she never is.) Beneath it all, a blind date is someone she has never seen.

Caroline’s interpretation greatly differs from hers and Bon thinks next time she asks her friend for help, they’ll communicate effectively. They’ll establish definitions so they’re both on the same page.

Stefan looks almost as shocked as she does to see her, his date, but he gives her a hug anyway and they both laugh and shake their heads in sync.

“Asking Caroline for dating advice?”

“I could say the same for you,” Stefan lifts a heavy brow.

“At first, I was thinking ‘what the hell’ but now...I’m really thinking it.”

“I almost feel insulted.”

They laugh again.

“Geez, Bonnie, am I not up to par?” she knows that he’s joking but she can’t help to think.

Is he not up to par?

Physically, Stefan is handsome in an almost classic way. Almost because something about him is surreal, maybe even sinister, and gives him a bit of an edge to an otherwise generically attractive face.

Could be his height.

Or maybe it’s the quality about him that seems like he’s drawn in smoke. So illusive Bonnie can’t describe him even when looking directly at him. His eyes are green or hazel, his hair blond or brown or somewhere in between.

The sunlight filters in bright and vivid in the Grill yet his features cling to every shadow like a small sign of caution: PRETTY BUT DEADLY. The only thing cemented is the perfect bone structure and the penetrating gaze, the full dark brows, the lips.

Stefan’s the good guy, (compared to Damon anyway.) He does have a crazy side but he’s far better at controlling it than most crazy people she knows. He’s charming. Charismatic but not in a way that’s obvious.

Perhaps she understands Caroline’s logic on this one; they’re both similar in demeanor, more or less the calm ones in most situations, they share a levelheaded nature and a mystery in which it’s hard to guess what they’re thinking.

But a romantic connection? A date? It’s a bit of a reach so she has her doubts. Plus, there’s something that makes her uneasy about the situation because she knows Damon would hate this.

Not that it matters.

The moment is prolonged between them so she tries to recover the banter. “Stefan, be real, how could you not be up to par?”

She needs polishing, she does, because she can’t recall the last time she’s been on a date. Yes, her remark is flirty but maybe it’s too forward. Or maybe she’s just overthinking.

He gives a toothless smile, all stretched lips before raising his glass and making a toast. “To pars,”

“To pars.”

Their glasses clink and the two lock eyes in the moment.

Grey. His eyes are grey.

——

They develop a deeper friendship and Stefan thinks there is something positively different about Bonnie that he can’t quite pinpoint. She even smells sweeter.

It’s remarkable how different she looks and acts because she seems so free and unbothered, and it’s not so much in her speech as it is in her behavior. He’s not even sure if she’s aware of it.

He feels this crush blossoming, the commencement of a stomach-fluttering infatuation. One that will have him journaling like an obsessive school girl. He could deny it, that gut-fluttering feeling, but he’s too self-aware. Stefan is a hopeless romantic, which can be his downfall, so he tries not to project anything on to Bonnie just yet because she could very well be uninterested. That would be devastating for him but he’s experienced worse.

How did Bonnie Bennett sneak up on him like this?

It’s only a week after that first date but this is his third time back on campus. He’s helping her study like a good friend would.

Caroline thinks the couple is a perfect demonstration of her observational skills and how thorough she is in match-making.

Damon is still very much unaware which is good because Stefan knows Damon. He won’t like this when he finds out.

He’s had his head so far away lately, Stefan notices, completely lost in his thoughts which is unlike him. Damon is starting to challenge his title for the brooding brother. Whatever is occupying his thoughts, that he’s already remotely refused to share, must be something serious.

Just as long as it keeps his focus elsewhere to prolong him from finding out about them- this. Their... friendship. Bonnie and Stefan. It has a nice ring to it.

Her nose is buried in a novel by Toni Morrison as Stefan discreetly observes her. His gaze traces the pensive expression on her face, clinging to the curve of her cheek, the tilt of her brows. Lower he drops his eyes to graze those shapely brown legs in the cutoff shorts before he returns to her face. He admires his latest discovery: the cute tension in her mouth that appears when she’s concentrating.

Bonnie is studying literature and the only subject he’s studying is her and he lets himself have this moment while she’s completely unaware so he can drink her in.

The ironic thing is that he has overlooked her so many times, never letting his mind linger on Bonnie for too long because, yes, she’s gorgeous but she’s also Elena’s friend. And Elena used to be his world. But now she isn’t and she hasn’t been for years. His eyes are opened, fully seeing the little witch for who she is, not what she can do or how many ways she can bend.

His cell phone buzzing breaks his concentration, he answers without looking at the caller identification because he knows it’s Damon.

“Yes?”

“Why are you hanging out with Bonnie, brother?” He has an edge in his voice with a tone that is all but condemning.

How could he expect Damon to do anything other than sabotage a perfect moment in its prime?

“Is there a reason I can’t?” Stefan can feel his forehead maze. For the life of him he will never understand why Damon is like this. He knew he would react this way, being jealous and possessive. For centuries his brother makes his biggest insecurity prevalent, poking and prodding to see if the people he loves the most like Stefan more than him. It’s one hell of an inferiority complex.

Bonnie’s eyes are on him now. They remind him of lily pads, offset by her golden brown skin and dark brown hair. Put a Venetian red background behind her and she’s a walking Renaissance portrait. Her eyes shift to a distance behind him and he hears steps approaching.

“Well when you’re making googly eyes at my best friend, it makes me a little sick in the stomach.”

The sound is magnified, once through the receiver, and again in real life as Damon adds himself to the study session, putting a chair between him and Bonnie like a proper third wheel.

Stefan internally groans.

He’s wearing a gray t-shirt and dark jeans that he dusts off before actually seating himself. “What’s on the agenda today, folks?” He gives a tight smile, sending a quick death glare to Stefan. “I knew when I couldn’t get in touch with Bon Bon that she must be preoccupied.”

“Funny how you didn’t take the hint,” Bonnie jokes.

“You know I’ve never been one to listen, bestie. What’s he doing here?” He gestures to Stefan like he’s just a minor inconvenience and not a living, breathing, being.

“...Really?” Stefan lets out a grave sigh.

He goes unaddressed as Damon keeps his eyes on Bonnie.

“I’m studying, and Stefan is assisting.”

“Sure about that?”

“We’re not in the mood for games, Damon. If you want to be involved, stop the interrogation and, i don’t know, be normal for once? I know it’s a bit of stretch.”

“Oh it’s a lot more than a ‘bit of a stretch’, Bon. I’m so far from normal it’s not even funny.” He props his arms behind his head and leans back in his seat.

“Damon. Why are you here?” he wants to extract him like a bad tooth.

“No, Stefan, the real question is why are you here? Last time I checked, I’m the one who gets to visit Bon Bon unannounced. That’s what friends are for. But you, you’re easily an acquaintance. Has something... changed?” There’s a peppering of accusation as he threads an eye line between Bonnie and Stefan.

She doesn’t even hear Stefan’s retort from the wave of thoughts that washes over her.

Everything about this moment is surreal. Having the first-hand experience of this ordeal feels like astral projection in which some godly thing snatched her mid-voyage and squeezed her into a shell of Elena. Only after a few minutes of bickering, Bonnie now sort of knows what it’s like to be put on a pedestal by the Salvatore brothers and she gets it. She finally understands why her sleeping friend would die for a power like this- to be loved like this.

And even angry, even at odds, the boys really are beautiful.

Elena must have felt like the world was in her palm, with two scarily attractive wrecking balls willing to destroy everything if it meant a smile on her face. She must have felt a little less human surrounded by unearthly handsome brothers who would fight for her and over her, changing everyone surrounding them for her namesake.

However, Bonnie doesn’t truly think she wants to be the host that this parasitical Salvatore thing attaches to next- simply being a bystander while it was directed to Elena left her life in ruins. She’s only just put the pieces back together, and god there were a lot.

The boys though.

They’re beautiful.

Stefan in all his chivalry, she can sense his embarrassment to be related to such a hard ass, a slight fluster in his cheek is the one indication that he’s annoyed and frustrated. His Adam’s Apple bobs when he speaks, his jaw clenches a little too forcefully when he’s quiet, defense in those stony eyes; she’s never seen tension look so good. He’s the one you conjure when you think of the perfect knight for your fairytale ending because he fits. He’s what you were dreaming for since you were six and you realized, like your dolly, you need a prince. He’s the reward the heroes get in every story, the American Dream on legs. The fight, the struggle, the blood, sweat, and tears, you trudge through it all for a taste of goodness because it’s worth it. Stefan makes it worth it.

And then there’s Damon, the pain, the asshole who really grew on her because she never thought he could have a heart until he placed her in it. He knows just how to annoy Stefan, taunting him to break character so he isn’t in this word war alone. He always gets what he wants. The one who makes everyone uncomfortable with how effortlessly he flaunts his sex appeal, how carelessly he can trap you in fantasies of him. He awakens an insatiable ache between the legs that leaves you dripping, thinking of all the things you’re forbidden to do because someone like Damon is never yours. He’s the husband of, boyfriend of, best friend of, and it’s never you. A wink from those baby blue eyes is so promising but trying to catch him is like grasping air- he’s everywhere and nowhere at all but you fucking need him.

And she’s Bonnie. Not Elena, just Bonnie.

She would be a fool to think them fighting over her is the same as them fighting over Elena because it just isn’t. With Elena, it was different. They were caught in an intricate web of love, lust, and infatuation which was undoubtedly the recipe for disaster.

With Bonnie, they aren’t in love, they’re only bickering over her friendship.

And the thing about friendship, friendship is manageable, friendship is controllable, friendship she can handle.

Elena must have felt like the god of her own world with two hellish men devoting their lives to her safety and her harm, both the protector and danger rolled into one. How it must have felt to have friends and lovers die over her to come back and die again. To have people care for her like that without doing anything harder than existing.

Her sleeping Lena had heaven on earth while she had hell on wheels and Bonnie knows a friend she made in the underworld would tell her to live it up before she died again and no one bothered to bring her back.

In a truly twisted, ironic way, she misses that friend.

What if it’s time for the scales to rebalance and the things that fell apart must unite again?

Maybe the universe has handed her the baton and it’s time to start running.

[mihirjaiswal]

A Motivation for the Holocaust

Rolf had avoided any events that reminded him of his past, but when he heard Selig Baar was speaking he had to go. Rolf saw it as an opportunity to let go of his past; the guilt he had been hiding for six decades. Selig Baar was speaking at a local museum after screening of the documentary The Motivation for the Holocaust. Rolf did not want to watch documentary. He was not keen on living his past again. He only wanted to ask a question to Selig.

 Rolf went to the museum at 6. When he entered the small auditorium, an old man wearing rectangle glasses was walking lethargically to the front. Rolf recognized Selig walking to the front. Before Selig turned around, Rolf quickly slipped into a seat in the last row. The auditorium was small. Scanning the atmosphere, Rolf saw around 70 people in 100 seats. All the members of audience were in awe and unable to move. Holocaust had been mesmerizing people for years. It had the same effect on that day.

  Between two rows of seats, a microphone was getting the most attention. Before Selig settled into his chair and took charge of his microphone, three people lined up to ask question.

  “Thank you all for joining us today and once again please welcome Selig Baar.” A female voice filled the auditorium. Rolf could not see her from his seat. He did not make any effort also, as Rolf was avoiding eye contact with Selig. “The word holocaust in the context of World War 2 was synonymous with gas chambers. However, as we saw today, there was much more to it. It started years before the world war. It was more than gas chambers, unethical taxation, segregation, racism, eviction, mass graves, murders, loot and many more words can be used to describe them. Selig Baar is here with us: one of the survivors of those terrible times. Please ask your questions.”

  Rolf adjusted in his seat to have a look at Selig’s face. After six decades, the man was distant resemblance to his younger self. Selig’s saggy face, big bones, thin hairs were evident of the time passed. Selig was no longer the skinny blond boy Rolf remembered.

  “Do you hate Germans?” The first question was fired at Selig.

  Selig laughed loudly. “This is one question I prepared answer for. I didn’t expect it to be the first one though. I am German. Can I hate myself?” Many members of the audience chuckled with Selig. “I understand your question. Holocaust was not a showdown between German and Jews. I believe except for Denmark and Finland, local authorities and structure participated in holocaust. France, Lithuania, Yugoslavia, you name it. Neighbors, friends, classmates, colleagues, employers, they all participated. On the other hand, Romas, some ethnic Polish leaders were also killed. I have never been anything else than German. How can I hate Germans?” Even though Rolf avoided the movie, he could not avoid the memories. He was shifting in his chair. He was uncomfortable. The discussion was already unbearable.

  “Mr. Baar. Thank you for being here today. That was an inspiring movie. I loved the stories of survivors, because we all have heard horrible stories of deaths and killings. First time I saw so many stories of triumph over evil. Can you shed some light on your thoughts on this movie?” Second question was asked to Selig.

  Selig coughed. “My thoughts. The movie you saw was the life we lived. This movie is about human interactions in the wake of the tragedy. Every person is driven by something. Greed, Compassion, Love, Hate, Jealousy. When greed, jealousy, hate took over a person they reported us to the authorities, participated in killings, robbed our belongings. When compassion, love, care won, they helped us. In the end, all those people survived because someone on the other side helped them at great risk. I remember one instance when a Nazi officer called an old Jew friend advising him to leave the city. This movie is beyond the holocaust itself. It speaks of human interaction in those difficult times. It highlights the complexity of those interactions.”

  “What, in your opinion, did drive betrayal of friends? How could a neighbor turn a blind eye and commit such a horrific act?” Third question was asked. The microphone was solitary again as all three questioners took their seats.

  “One thing Nazis did right was segregation. They identified us and segregated us. After that, negative emotions were enough to drive the rest of the horror. How many of you can positively say that you have never been jealous of any of your neighbors? None.” Selig counted raised hands in the audience. Rolf was at the peak of uneasiness by then. He knew if he did not get up at that moment, he would lose his courage. Rolf got up to move towards the solitary microphone, but he kept a low profile and looked sideways. He did not want Selig’s attention. Selig continued, “But I realize you don’t kill them. The reason: They are integrated and part of the society. Similarly, many Jews were integrated into the society. They attended the same school, lived within the same community, played together. When Nazis segregated them, the integration was gone. The barrier vanished. There was no inhibition. People believed that Jews were non-significant. And if you discriminate or harm Jews, you had no repercussions. In fact, peer pressure ensured, in many cases, that you do not stand with the Jews. If you were jealous of a Jew, you had a reason and no inhibition. If you hate, you had a reason and no inhibition. If you were greedy, you had a reason and no inhibition. Many officers were simply doing their duty. If you teach a soldier in army to kill an enemy, he is not making any judgment as to who the enemy is or what are the crimes. He is simply following orders and doing his duties.” Selig stopped for a while. Rolf was between two rows of seats slowly walking towards the microphone. He had his hand on his forehead to avoid seeing eye to eye with Selig. After deep breath Selig continue, “In absence of an inhibition, every human fights a battle between negative and positive motivation. Many times whichever side wins, decided his action. However, all of us at times are simply incapable of fighting the battle and go with the flow. Nazis created a flow and many just followed. Nonetheless, not all was bad. You saw the movie. Many Jews survived. They survived through good fortune and kind and love of non-Jews.”

  Rolf was at the microphone. He said, “What is your story?” Selig looked up. Rolf and Selig were looking into each other’s eyes after six decades. A light in Selig’s eyes assured Rolf that they both recognized each other.

  Selig said, “You ask my story. I was betrayed, by a friend. My best friend for ten years told Nazis about us. They came after my family and me. We had to run. And then.” Selig paused for a moment. Rolf was not blinking. Selig continued looking at the blank face of Rolf, “My father had a shop in the village. His neighbor was a wealthy man. He had the biggest shop in the village. He took us and kept us in his basement for eight years. We hardly saw the daylight for eight years. But finally, we were able to start the new life. We were lucky than the most. We did not have to leave our village, though we lost everything we had, including our hope. How can I hate Germans? I was betrayed by one, I was saved by one and I am one.” Selig and Rolf were staring at each other by the time.

  Gathering courage, Rolf followed up, “Do you hate your friend?”

  Selig removed his glasses and wiped his face with his hands. He looked into Rolf’s eyes and said, “No Rolf. I do not hate you. How did you hate me?” Audience gasped.

  “I did not,” Rolf cried. “I did not hate you. I was eleven years old. As you said, I had no inhibitions and negative feeling called fear won. You were always top of the class. You were always ahead of me in studies. I feared lagging behind. I saw it as an opportunity. I thought by complaining about you, you will be thrown out of school and I would be the best student. I never meant any harm to you. It was childish. I had been carrying this guilt for years. This is my chance to apologize. I could not change the history, but I could acknowledge my mistake.” Selig stood up. “The reason my story was not part of that movie, because I could not muster the words, my friend betrayed me. I could only say it today because I was looking at you. It took us 6 decades, but we met.” Selig and Rolf walked towards each other and hugged. The audience applauded. They witnessed one more story of win from holocaust.

  P.S.: Above story is fictional, but it is inspired from a real exhibition at the National Holocaust museum in Washington, DC. The Holocaust has been symbolized by all the atroctities and brutalities, but “Some were neighbors” exhibition highlights human connections and dynamics during the holocaust. If you get a chance, please go and see it. Here is the website for the reference: http://somewereneighbors.ushmm.org/

[fatandnerdy30]

Land of the Avengers chapter 1

So, I said I would be posting to tumblr more often, so I figured that I should start with my reconfigured LotA story...so, here we go!

The beeping of an alarm is the first thing he heard the morning of the week that would change his life forever. Peter yawned as he hit dismiss on his app flashing on his phone’s screen, rolling over again.

“Peter! Come on, time for school!” May’s voice called down the hall, her footsteps pounding through the dorm apartment. “Your breakfast is going to get cold!”

That got the boy moving and five minutes later, as he was making his way toward the kitchen, the melody to wake up the entire academy started playing over the loudspeaker. Peter always woke a little early because he hated being startled awake by the annoying good morning song. He slid into his chair and smiled as May gave him a kiss on top of his head, ruffling his curls. “I’ll be home early today, so you won’t have to cook.”

At that the boy made a face. “Why don’t we just eat in the cafeteria? At least they’re a little edible.”

“Hey!” she said in shock, though amusement could be heard in the tone. “I’ll let you know the headmaster enjoyed my walnut date loaf very much, thank you!”

“He only took it because he wasn’t trying to be rude. Come on, May, your reputation for being a bad cook is pretty infamous in the halls of the school.” He picked up the fried-cake on his plate which was like a plate and stiff as a board for an example.

“All right, I’ll admit I don’t cook that well, but it’s not as bad as all that.” She poked at the stiff fried-cake before she left the room. “And make sure to finish what’s on your plate. Both of them!”

Peter laughed at the joke and just hid the cake in a napkin before throwing it out and racing back to his room. With his door closed, he put a CD into his stereo and started getting ready for the day. Brushing his teeth, he bopped his head back and forth to the beat, his curls bouncing along, which he then fixed. He then quickly put his uniform on and grabbed his homework, the papers filled with elaborate equations and safety protocols that he had to memorize. But, it excited him, because he was closer to becoming an apprentice flight engineer, which was even closer to becoming a pilot! “See you later, May!”

“Bye honey!”

The boy shut the door and practically ran to the school building, throwing open the doors. “Peter!” His best friend’s voice made Peter turn around and a big smile lit up his face.

“Harley, what’s up man?” They grabbed each other’s arms, then slid their hands down then to ‘explode’, making the sounds as their hands separated.

“Nothing much, just wondering why you’re always the first in the halls.” The dark haired boy smirked at him as he slammed Peter’s shoulder playfully.

“I may be first, but you’re always right behind me. Looking to get on Captain Potts’ good side? Because you loooove her?” Peter cackled when Harley’s face went red.

“I do not. I just want to impress her because I think I’m failing.” Harley sighed. “I got a ninety-eight on my last equipment test.” His head hung down as he pouted.

“Oh, ninety-eight…that’s harsh,” Peter joked, stumbling when the other boy pushed him and laughed. “Don’t sweat it, man! You’re one of the smartest kids in the academy, and anyone would be grateful to have you on board.”

“Oh, I know,” Harley joked, puffing his own chest out, but the other boy elbowed him in the chest, making him choke. “Dude! Not cool!” He rubbed his chest, but Peter was laughing too hard to respond.

“What’s so funny Penis?” An annoying voice sobered up both boys and the older of the two stiffened. “Finally get to look in a mirror?” An oily haired student slid in between the two. He wasn’t smarter than Peter, but since the boy’s first day, the bully had been on Peter’s case. Harley said it was because he was jealous, but Peter had no clue why. Flash had everything. He had good grades, two parents, was popular, and rich, everything that Peter had wanted. But, he couldn’t help but feel bad for the bully.

Harley moved, making Peter snap out of his thoughts. The older boy was smirking. “No, we finally got to see you without your makeup, and boy was that hysterical!”

Flash’s face turned red and he balled his fists at his sides, bringing one up. “You’re dead, Keener!” He was about to bring his fist up to Harley’s face, when a hand grabbed him from behind.

“What was that, Mr. Thompson?”

Mr. Barton scowled down at the boy, blue eyes churning like the ocean during a storm. “Did you threaten a fellow student with bodily harm and a death threat?” The man’s chiseled jaw was ticking in his annoyance under his five O'clock shadow.

“N-no!” the bully squeaked, his coffee skin turning a sickly green, brown color. "I-I-I-I-“ He stared at the muscled arm beyond the hand that was holding him half off the ground.

"You were what?” Mr. Barton finally released the boy, watching him stumble back into the lockers. “Get outta here, you little punk. You have detention. With me. After school. Now go.” When the boy stood frozen, the teacher growled. “That’s an order, Cadet Thompson!” Flash jumped and practically ran from the man, not even looking back. “You two okay?”

“Yes, Mr. Barton, sir!” Peter replied, both cadets standing at attention. “Thank you for your assistance.”

The man smirked and clapped both boy’s on the shoulder. “At ease, boys. You’re gonna be late for class. Go ahead.”

The boys smiled and almost ran down the hall to Ms. Potts’ class not noticing Mr. Barton watching them. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re late.” Captain Potts stated to the two boys who ran into the classroom, both panting. The woman’s strawberry blonde hair was pulled into a serious bun, highlighting her classic bone structure. Her blue eyes showed her annoyance at being interrupted.

“Sorry Captain!” Peter said in between breaths. “We were detained.”

“Hmm…see that it doesn’t happen again. Now, to your seats. We’re discussing sub-orbital flight and the long term effects on the body.” She waited for the boys to get to their seats, and started. Pepper checked on her students often during her lesson, noting that more than a few looked bored. But, the two students she knew who were paying attention were staring right at the board, pens scribbling like mad as they took notes on every word the Captain said.

“Who can tell me how far up you need to reach sub-orbital flight and feel weightless?” She waited, staring at the company. “Anyone?” Two hands shot into the air and she had to hide a smile. “Harley.”

“One hundred kilometers, Captain, or sixty-two miles above sea level.”

“Very good, Cadet Keiner. Now, extra question, what is that altitude called?” Peter’s hand shot into the air a second before Harley could answer, and this time she couldn’t help but chuckle. “Peter.” “The Karman Line, named after Theodore von Karman, who formulated the idea that at this height was too thin for regular flight. It’s also called the edge of space.”

“Very good, Cadet Parker. I can see someone has paid attention in the past,” Pepper sent a glare to the other cadets, who sat straight at that look. “All of you have a bright future, but you’re not showing that you have the drive to become Pilots for the Reed center��.” She sighed. “And because of this, I am telling you that tomorrow there will be a pop quiz on all of this. I’m being nice and letting you know beforehand this way you can come prepared.

"Now, there are twelve long term effects on the body and they are as follows: after about a dozen flights, the pilot’s spine itself stretches, but it doesn’t cause too much pain. It corrects itself in a few months of being on the ground and the pilot can start flying again.

“The second is on too many extra long flights, the muscles of the pilot loses some of their muscle mass. This is why we insist on the pilots being in fit shape in order to stay on, especially those who take long flights that last more than six hours. Please turn to page thirty-two of your books and read the following pages and take notes, until you reach the third effect.”

Silence followed for a long while, everyone focused and taking the appropriate notes until the last page was turned and the students turned their attention to Captain Potts. “Everyone ready to move on? Good. Now, the third effect would be-"The bell rang and the students started packing their bags. She saluted the cadets, who stood altogether and saluted her back. "You’re dismissed.” She watched the kids rush out of the classroom to their next class. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day went by fast, and before he knew it, Peter was in line for lunch, his foot tapping with excess energy from sitting so long listening to teachers drone on and on. He was young and needed to move. After his muscles were tired from hopping in place, he leaned against the window, the smog so thick that the city was barely visible from the sky deck the school was built on. Pollution and factory smog had been getting worse and worse with each passing year until people had to start building homes on top of towers to give them clean air to breathe. But, it happened that only the rich could afford to be in those towers.

Peter remembered living in the smog filled city below and it left some bad health problems like asthma, which was getting better now that he lived in the dorms of the school. If he hadn’t gotten the scholarship, he would still be below that thick cloud, struggling to breathe, or dead.

He noticed the line moving and stepped forward, when someone rammed into his shoulder, causing the boy to cry out and hold the limb. “Oops.” Flash’s annoying voice filled the boy’s ears and he rolled his eyes.

“Just leave me alone, Flash.” Peter was getting tired of the bully’s crap. He rolled his shoulder and winced when it was tender.

“Why should I when you obviously have no one around to protect you. No friends,” the bully looked around. “No teachers.” He then pressed Peter closer to the window, the other students backing away. “And I still owe you for what your boyfriend said to me this morning.” Flash’s eyes hardened. He looked up slightly into Peter’s face. Then, without hesitation, he slammed a fist into Peter’s stomach, causing said boy to double over and gasp for air. “That was just a love tap. You or your boyfriend say anything like that to me again, it’ll be worse.” He turned and walked away, laughing with a few of the other kids pointing at the boy holding his stomach.

Peter lost his appetite after that, so he got off the line and went to the library, grabbing his books out of his locker on the way. The least he could do was get some of the assignments Captain Potts gave them. And wait to see if a bruise formed on his sore ribs, which the way he felt, he was sure about that.

Lost in the pages of a book, Peter barely heard the bell ring. A clearing of a throat made the boy look up, the librarian gesturing to a clock with a smirk. Peter gasped and started packing his books wildly when he heard the chimes for an announcement coming over the loudspeaker.

“Cadets Parker and Keener, to Colonel Richards’ office. Cadets Parker and Keener, to Colonel Richards’ office.” The near robotic voice of the colonel’s secretary rang through the halls. Peter froze as the few students in the library stared at him.

The first thought that came to mind was what did they do wrong? Then it was, did Flash say they started the fight? Or, his overactive brain thought, maybe they did something terribly bad, and they were going to be expelled? Peter shook his head. No, that couldn’t be. It was on video that Flash had hit him.

With a gulp, he stood up and crammed what books and papers he had left, into his backpack, not caring about the state they were in before practically running out of the library. The entire way to the headmaster’s office, the bad thoughts kept running through Peter’s mind, making his heart beat faster and the dread rise farther.

Harley was waiting outside the headmaster’s office. He looked as nervous as Peter did. “What do you think we did?” Peter asked panting, his eyes wide.

“I have no clue, but it can’t be good if we’re being summoned to this office.” The door swung open and Mr. Barton stuck his head out, his eyes softening at the look the two gave him.

“Hey, what’s with the scared looks?”

Harley gulped so loud, even Peter heard it. “We’re ready to accept our punishment for whatever we did, sir,” he said lowly and Peter just looked at the ground. What they weren’t expecting was the laugh coming from Mr. Barton. It started out as a chuckle, and then he was actually holding his middle. “Punishment?” the man cackled. “What made you think you were being punished?”

“W-well,” Peter started, wringing his hands. “No one is called to the Colonel’s office, except for punishment…and the fight Flash caused this morning…” He wasn’t going to mention the fight-if you could call it that- which the headmaster probably had seen on the security cams.

“Don’t even mention that little creep’s name to me. I still have plans for him in detention. But, don’t worry, you were called here for something good. Promise.” He stepped aside and ushered the cadets inside. Instantly they stood straight at attention, saluting the dark haired man sitting behind the desk, Mr. Barton following.

“The cadets you wanted, Sir.”

“Ahh, thank you, Clint. At ease.” Colonel Richards sat back, his elbows on his desk. “Peter and Harley, correct?” He couldn’t miss the way the two seemed to tremble in his presence.

“Y-yes sir,” Harley nodded.

“Good. I’ve been looking into your grades and I must say I am very impressed. Normally, when we do have scholarship students, they slack off once they’re in the school.” It didn’t happen very often, and Peter and Harley both had stunning grades to go with their scholarships. “But, not you two. And that impressed me.” He smiled at the look the boys gave him.

“It impressed me so much, that I’ve decided to let you two take the flight simulation for real. The only placement I could get for the both of you though, was next week.” The room became silent from the news, both boys staring at him slack jawed.

“I don’t expect you to be flying alone, though. Mr. Barton and Captain Potts have both agreed to be with you on the flight. You both are allowed to take one extra person of your choosing to take with you. It will be a week long excursion. Consider it a reward for your hard work this year.”

The boys smile’s grew brighter and they looked at one another excitedly. “It’s an honor, Colonel, Sir!” Peter said, his voice cracking in his excitement, making him turn red.

“Yes, this is a great honor, Sir.” Harley said, his face so serious, it made Reed chuckle.

“Calm down, Cadet Keiner. But, I will warn you,” his face turned serious, “that this is also a test proving the two of you will be capable pilots and your futures are riding on this.”

Peter and Harley both trembled at that, but saluted the man with a loud 'Yes Sir!’

“Study hard, and try and get as much Simulation time as you need. In fact, I’ll open the Baxter building to the both of you, this way you’ll have state of the art simulators to work with.”

To say the boys were shocked was an understatement. The Baxter building? “I-it’s truly an honor, Sir!” Peter said, his face beaming.

“I’ll have your passes ready for you by tomorrow. You’re dismissed.” Both boys slammed their heels together and saluted before exiting the room.

“We get to go to the top floor of the Baxter Building!” Peter cried as soon as they were out of the Colonel’s office. His young eyes were sparkling with wonder and excitement. “I’ve always wanted to see what they do up there! I’ve heard that they’ve been working on actual space flight! How crazy is that? We might get to go to the moon someday, maybe farther! We may even discover a new planet! How cool would that be!”

Harley listened with a soft smile. His younger friend always got this way when talking about the science of space flight and or chemistry. "It would be so cool. You gonna be the first to step on the moon?“ he ruffled Peter’s hair, cackling.

"I just might!” Peter said indignantly.

“I’m sure you will, bud. Come on, we’ll be late for Harrington’s class, and you know him and his stories if you’re late.” Harley slung his arm around Peter’s shoulders and tugged him towards the classrooms.

[mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea]

First lines meme thingie

I was tagged by @mcfiddlestan, and I rarely ever get tagged for things.  So here goes.  

Rules: Post the first lines of your last ten fics read or written and then tag others to do the same.

10. WIP: From Chapter 5 of Mission (Part 2, of Hemispheres): 

"Oh.  You're back, Stark."  

Tony stepped up to the cell just as Loki's honeyed voice greeted him from the darkness.  Behind him, Fandral continued to use what Frigga had given him – more daylily, it seemed – to keep the guards befuddled and forgetful about their presence.

"I am, Bambi.  And I see...well, hear...you're still awake.  Which is good.  I'd hate to think I was disturbing your sleep," Tony retorted, the corner of his mouth quirking into that smile that let anyone know he was amused, especially with himself.  

Tony had actually fallen asleep after navigating his way back to his room and crawling into the orgy-bed.  It was Fandral's voice hovering right over him, followed by a hand shaking him that had jolted him from sleep.  He couldn't be mad, though.  After all, here he was again, in Loki's presence.  

Even if he couldn't see him yet.  

As that thought entered Tony's mind, a candle silently illuminated the cell, and Loki sat on the edge of the narrow bed, dressed for sleep, his hair down around his face but not tousled yet to indicate any sleep.  Those stunning green eyes pierced through the glass to stare into Tony's.  

9. From Chapter 1 of Mission; “A spirit with a vision (Is a dream with a mission)”; (Part 2 of Hemispheres): 

"Tony, this is madness."

Tony finished his third cup of coffee and poured another for himself.  He turned to offer Thor a refill, but the God of Thunder covered the top of his ginormous mug with his hand to politely refuse.  Buzzing from the caffeine and distracted for length of a cicada's wing-flutter, Tony tried to remember which one of them had taught Thor to be polite about coffee.

"It's not madness, Thor.  I've just...had time to think about it, and...Loki should be here.  Not...wherever you put him," he hedged and tried to meet Thor's eyes.

"He threw you through the window of your own home.  He wrecked your city.  He killed..."

Setting the carafe back on its hot plate a little rougher than he'd intended, Tony took the three wide steps it took to land him right in Thor's space, and he glared up at him.

"And how many have you killed, Hammer Time?  You're the actual warrior, so how much blood do you have on your hands?  How much innocent blood, at that?"

Thor was taken aback by the acrimony in Tony's tone, the way those dark eyes flashed with a red-hot forge fire that burned the breath between them.  He lifted his cup between them, took a drink of what remained in it then set it down again.  He never took a step back or tried to push Tony away.

"That is not a discussion we're going to have, Tony.  You're upset with me, and I cannot fathom why," he told his friend, a hint of warning to his voice.  "The last I knew, you were glad to see my brother returned to Asgard for punishment.  You have nightmares..."

Tony stepped back of his own volition and waved a hand to dismiss the last thing Thor mentioned.

"You don't know anything about my nightmares.  They have nothing to do with your brother."  When Thor gave him a questioning eyebrow raise, Tony poked a finger into his chest.  "They don't.  Compared to what I saw in that wormhole, Loki was just a pissed off kitten."

8. From Part 1 of Hemispheres; Far away you were made in a sea just like me: 

It was the gray light that gently tugged him from sleep.

Tony squinted, and at first, he wanted to grouse and tell the cloudy morning to go fuck itself; he wasn't ready to wake up.  Especially when a warm body spooned against his, a creamy-skinned arm draped over his side, and the hand that belonged to it cupped his belly.  That was enough to make him smile and close his eyes again, his own hand slipping away from where it rested between his cheek and pillow to settle on that other hand.

This must not be one of his many flings that he picked up at a bar or conference because he felt no need to get out of bed and begin the Ritual of Escape.  He didn't have the urge to run and leave Pepper to 'take out the trash', as she so often explained it.

Wait.  Is that Pepper behind me?

Tony caressed the knuckles of the hand on his stomach, and while the hand was fine-boned and nimble, it was certainly not the hand of a woman.

Definitely not Pepper's.

Still, that body felt so good against his back; not bed-warm the way he would've expected.  It was cooler than most bodies, though not uncomfortably so, and Tony snuggled back against it all the same, feeling this lover's arm tighten against him.

He said fuck it to the outside world and responsibilities again, ready to drift off.  Ready to ignore the meetings lined up for him, the half a dozen projects in his lab, and the business luncheon he no doubtedly was supposed to attend that was Incredibly Important to Stark Industries.

"Mmm, if you keep squirming against me like that, ástin mín, you're not going to make that breakfast meeting you're supposed to be at in..."  Loki lifted his head to squint at the projected clock on Tony's nightstand.  "...an hour," he finished and took that moment to snuggle back down against Tony's back, rubbing his smooth cheek along that naked shoulder.

7. From Ghost of a Chance, a Steve/Bucky/Peggy prompt drabble.

December 1943; London, England

Scratchy tunes faded in and out from the radio in the training facility.  Bucky's eyes focused on the two men in the makeshift boxing ring, working in some training while the remains of the 107th continued to enjoy their break from combat.

Eventually, they'd have to get back in the fight.

Eventually, they'd follow the golden blond leader who barely matched the image Bucky went into combat with seared into his mind.

Eventually, he'd be chasing after Steve like he always did, but this time, they'd be equals against the mutual enemy.

Steve didn't even need him anymore, did he?

So, what the hell was Bucky supposed to do with himself anymore if Steve didn't need him?

"He's pretty amazing to watch, isn't he, Sargent Barnes?"

Bucky glanced over to see the pretty brunette whose heart Steve had managed to snag.  All on his own, too.  Bucky hadn't needed to set up a blind date or anything with this one.  He huffed and shrugged a shoulder.

6. From Behind Blue Eyes, Emma Frost/Loki.  With several twists.

Emma hissed as the cup burned her bottom lip, and she set it down with a scowl.  Yes, she’d wanted hot tea, but she hadn’t needed it to come out boiling or to bring back the moral condemnation that still echoed in her memories.  If Robert were here, she’d ask him to cool it down for her, but he wasn’t.  She knew what was in his thoughts, and she sincerely doubted that he would join her at a café for an afternoon drink.

Would any of them?

She almost laughed out loud to herself when she realized that one person who might was the one person who offered her some of the only comfort throughout the whole debacle.  Logan.  However, she was as aware as one of his claws punched through her chest that he was like the others, too busy wrapped up in a woman who could have prevented everything that had happened, if only she’d been thinking with her head and not jealous little heart of hers.

And everyone thought Emma was the ice queen.

5. From Supernaut; Eventual Loki/Tony but Loki + Nebula; Infinity War/Endgame Divergent.

Whatever pieces of Loki were left in the wreckage of The Statesman were intact enough that healing from death...again...took only as long as Thanos' snap that ended half of all life across the known universe.

Ironically, Loki didn't die in the snap.

He'd been cold after Thor's body floated to...wherever it had once his unconsciousness pried him from the Trickster's corpse.  Loki distinctly remembered that from his place at the gates of Valhalla; that alone told him that his death had come as an honorable sacrifice, and only after kissing his mother and father goodbye – for now – because he'd left unfinished business behind, did he wake up without Thor as his blanket.  

Through whatever grace of the Norns that still existed, Loki stood on that piece of the ship that had held his dead body.  He studied the stars, charted the constellations, found himself staring at Lokabrenna with a smile as it guided him.  It was difficult to breathe as if Thanos' hand was still around his throat, and it was good he didn't need to speak words right away to summon the pieces of the ship around him, soldering it together with what magic he could bring immediately to his fingertips.  His windpipe and voice box had been crushed, and it would take days to heal them unless he dug deep into the secret supply of golden apples he'd stored away ages ago in a dimensional pocket.  Or unless Eir could come to his rescue, but he didn't know where she was.  She and several chests of those apples had been on the escape ship with Brunnhilde, Korg, and half of the Asgardians.

Loki hoped they'd found a safe course and stayed out of Thanos' reach.

4. From We Were Never Boy Scouts; Loki/Steve Rogers.

*

A frost giant and a once-frozen centenarian walk into a bar...

*

That's where the joke ends.  That bar isn't really a bar.  It's the middle of nowhere in the North Siberian Lowland, and there isn't a structure or building or person in sight.

"Golly, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore."

Loki's eyes twinkle with mischief as he turns to see if his companion is as impressed by his Midgardian cultural reference as he is.

"I don't think we're anywhere near Yatutsk," Steve says.  He's braced his hands on his hips.  His breath forms ghosts.  The air bites his cheeks, nose, and ear-tips until they're red.  Loki's reference hasn't been missed by Steve, but he's not in the mood for a joke.  "I thought you could teleport us anywhere."

He closes his eyes.  Takes Thor's advice regarding a Midgardian calming trick by counting to ten.  Several deep breaths keep him from yelling at the good Captain.

"I can teleport us anywhere.  I did teleport us 'anywhere'.  But I'm not from Russia nor am I from your planet, so I can't get you to exact locations when I haven't been to them, especially not when they seem to be in the middle of Frost-Etin wastelands."

3. From A Warrior’s Wounds, a Kurt/Logan (Nightcrawler/Wolverine) ficlet part of a 130 prompt list, and the only one I actually managed to write.

In the near-two centuries since he’d been alive, Logan had been stabbed, sliced, gutted, burned, shot, survived grenades, canons, arrows, magic, inter-dimensional weaponry, Dracula’s bite, Sabertooth’s claws, Hulk’s smash, Black Widow’s knives, Cyclops’ eye-blast, Jean’s mind-punches, Hank eating his leg, Remy’s flying sparky cards, Rogue’s touch, Emma’s diamond slaps, Reed’s rubbery choke-holds, S.H.I.E.L.D removing his head, Mystique’s...everything, and sometimes, his own clumsiness.  

He’d endured just about every painful thing a body could endure.

And survived.

2. From Hey Jealousy, a Thor: Ragnarok ‘deleted scene’ short-fic; Loki and Bruce have a ‘conversation’ about Tony’s pants.

(skipping ahead from the first lines, which are replaying the canon lines from Ragnarok)

Before they split up to take care of their escape plans, Bruce tugs at the crotch of the pants again.

“How the hell does Tony wear these so tight?”

None of them notice the narrowed glare from Loki that could shoot magic daggers.

Instead, Loki changes his expression and speaks quietly, gently to the man who could rage-shift at any moment.

“Banner.”

The chains are off at last, and Thor’s busy staring at how much liquor Valkyrie keeps consuming.  Loki corners Bruce but in a not-as-threatening-as-it-could-be way.

“Just what are you doing in Anthony Stark’s trousers?”

Bruce stares up...and up...at Loki, his mouth quirks.  Eyes squint.

“What?” he asks, watching as Loki sheds the chains as easily as a snake sheds its skin.  “What does that even have to do with...”

Loki stares down into Bruce’s face, and there’s something in the Trickster’s eyes that gives away his disappointment.  His jealousy.

“What are you doing in Stark’s trousers, Banner?  Are you two...together now?  A...couple?”

1. From Sunset, an Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. ficlet during the Framework season of the series when the Framework is being shut down.

Radcliffe breathes a sigh of relief when Mack and Yoyo disappear from the Framework to return to the Other Side.

“Right then,” he says to no one.  “Time tae go.”

But first, he returns to the Triskelion.  There’s something he wants from Madame Hydra’s office.  Something he knows from Hydra-Fitz she keeps in there.

*

Tagging: @scottxlogan, @majorenglishesquire, @kleenexwoman, @mistressofmuses, @elvenferretots, @iamanartichoke, @gaslightgallows, @mypaopu, @jcrewguy, @mayphoenix

[h3adcarsbending]

pity party • matty healy x reader

Pity Party - M.H.

wc- 2856 or smth like that

The reader, in the midst of a particularly bad day, is dragged along to a party by her boyfriend Matty. But she really doesn’t want to be a burden or ruin his night.

It was a stressful day for poor Y/N, and being dragged along to a party by her boyfriend didn’t help much either. Not like she’d ever let Matty know what was up - she hated burdening him with her problems. She didn’t want to scare him off, now did she? Her curly haired rockstar was the best thing that had ever happened to her. If she lost Matty, who knows what she’d do.

But, anything for him. She would go to the party, pretend to have a good time, and hope for the best, because let’s be honest for a moment…  not much could go wrong. Or could it? Oh, shut up with the cliches, will you!

    “Love, are you almost ready?” called the boyfriend in question from the living room of their shared Manchester flat.

Y/N sighed apologetically, attempting to quickly gain at least some composure before having to face Matty. “Y-yeah. Just one second, babe…”

With that, she took a final glance in the mirror and confirmed she looked alright. She didn’t feel too hot today. But there wasn’t much she could do to tend to her overwhelming insecurities at this very moment. Turning the knob with shaky, but freshly manicured hands, she exited the bathroom - her favourite place to cry - and greeted the beautiful, curly haired man in front of her, a fake smile a stark contrast to his genuine one. She felt somewhat guilty, but she’d feel guiltier if she let him know what was wrong. Letting him have a lovely time at George’s carouse was all she wanted. She knew firsthand how hard Matty and the boys worked, and how little rest they got… frankly, it amazed her. How he could do everything he did seldom any breaks was perplexing to the Y/H/C girl.

Matty looked at her up and down, practically tearing off her beautiful sequined black dress with his gorgeous chocolate (ha) brown eyes alone. He snaked a pale, inked arm around her waist, planting a soft, heartfelt kiss on her cheek. “You look breathtaking, love!” he exclaimed, a look of pure and utter adoration on his lovely face. Oh, how lucky she was. She didn’t think she deserved him - but then again, he didn’t think he deserved her, either. Again with the guilt.

She averted her gaze to the floor at an alarming speed, biting back a flood of tears in an attempt to do two things; save both her dignity and the glittery smokey eye she’d spent an unreasonable amount of time on. “Thank you. You look quite fit yourself, Matty,” she squeaked, trying to hide the burning of oncoming tears at the back of her throat that often resulted in a rather telling voice crack which made her sound like a twelve year old boy. She did not succeed. “Sorry. Eyeshadow in my eye. That stuff hurts,” she chuckled, giving her all to play it off. She felt terrible lying to him but it was all she could do right then and there, hm?

Matty looked concerned. He suspected she was upset - but for both her and the night’s sake decided not to make a big deal of it, raising his thick eyebrows worriedly. “I’d imagine it does, love,” he replied, squeezing her hand affectionately. “You sure you’re alright? We can tell George we can’t come--”

“No! No, no, no, don’t do that!” she pleaded, cutting him off. “I’m okay. It’s fine, babe, it’s nothing. Promise!” 

“Alright,” he sighed, pulling her in for a hug. Y/N melted into the embrace, her head lying on his comfortable (albeit bony) chest. Listening to his heartbeat was quite therapeutic for her, and he knew that. “Let’s go.”

She nodded, and off they went.

To say the car ride was tense was a bit of an understatement. Y/N chewed at her glossy, made up lips, and Matty’s elegant free hand diverged from its usual spot at his girlfriend’s thigh and instead rested on the wheel of the car, bouncing up and down in coordination with his thigh. She didn’t dare gaze anywhere but outside the window, meanwhile he routinely checked up on her. For what reason, he wasn’t sure. It vaguely reminded them of the aftermath of their arguments -- but even then there was less… silence. It was deafening. Matty quickly turned on the radio (conveniently playing some sad, mainstream pop tune by the latest one-hit wonder) to elevate the mood and diminish the awkwardness. He wanted to talk, he just wasn’t sure how to go about doing so.

For the first time, Y/N looked away from the window and instead at her thighs. And her stomach. She cringed inwardly upon the sight, regretting giving in to the hearty lunch Matty had fixed for the two of them - it tasted surprisingly good, but she was quite bloated, even after a good five or so hours, which made her pretty anxious. Her soft, thick thighs, which he liked, weren’t to her liking. Not even close. Subconsciously, she tugged at her hair, threatening to rip it all out and scream, once again holding back a waterfall of tears. Then, back to staring at the cars passing by.

Eventually, they made it to George’s place. They could hear the music blaring from the opposite end of the block -- it was loud. Impossibly tumultuous. That by itself was already stressing Y/N out, to the point where she didn’t even realize Matty had stopped the car until he opened her door and helped her out. She thanked him, clinging onto his hand as if it was her last breath; his other hand rubbed her back in a soothing matter. They got to the door and were greeted by none other than Adam Hann after a brief sequence of knocks, his beautifully angled eyebrows sitting at an even higher angle once his eyes met with the pair’s own. “Y/N! Matty! A bit late, but come in! We’ve been waiting for ages,” he chirped, a slight slur to his words, especially when he emphasized ‘ages’. 

Matty gave his close friend a slight chuckle, you instinctively following suit. “Yeah, sorry about that, mate. My love-” he ruffled your curled hair with his free hand, pulling you in a bit closer to him and kissing your forehead “-here is just so distractingly beautiful!” A very, very, embarrassingly bright blush crept onto your cheeks, and you let out the first genuine giggle you had all day. It was those small, yet memorable moments of pure cuteness that really made you fall in love with him. You cherished those memories -- you remembered every single time he’d done something like that. It was a mix of hilarity and endearment that you felt every time Matty shed his bad boy, rock star demeanour and replaced his it with a soft, loving one. One that secretly preferred being the little spoon sometimes. One that was surprisingly vulnerable. It was a side of Matty most people didn’t get to experience - and boy, was she grateful she got to. 

“Not as pretty as you, Matthew,” you teased, wrapping your arms around his neck (which was covered in a mop of dark brown ringlets). He looked at you with a face that could only be described as an odd mix of amusement, adoration, and disgust.

“Don’t ever call me Matthew again, for the love of God.” Matty laughed, even harder as Adam faked a gag. “Oh, shut the fuck up, Hann! S’not like you and Carly are any different.”

“Not publicly. That’s gross.”

“Shut your trap,” he quipped as he jokingly shoved the blonde guitarist away so he could enter George’s not-so-humble abode (though he was quite humble about it nevertheless) with his girlfriend in tow.

    The lights were bright. They flashed a lot, too (they flashed even more than those God-awful ‘groupies’ at literally every show the boys played), and they were far from pleasant; Y/N felt slightly queasy but, not like she herself would throw up… rather like her mind would. It seemed to be a combination of stress, body image, and  an unexpectedly onset depressive episode. She felt herself stumble, almost as if she was as intoxicated as the vast majority of people attending this event, but she caught herself before Matty noticed. He was talking to some old friend he hadn’t seen since high school, which made her job easier as he assumed she was just being lovey-dovey when she gripped his arm - his obliviousness was a gift at times. This being one of them.

    The friend - Y/N gathered her name was Tiera - was stunning. Jaw-droppingly gorgeous. Model material. Her bone structure was immaculate, and her platinum blonde box braids contrasted beautifully with her glowing dark skin. Her body was just as, if not more perfect than her face. She was fit in every sense of the word, with curves that would be the death of any woman or man who laid eyes on them… and YN’s brain insisted that this mesmerizing lady was going to be the end of her Matty too, and taking in the sight of them innocently catching up was when she lost it.

    You see, she wasn’t normally a very jealous person; but the pure self loathing she had felt towards her own body that day, and then seeing how flawless Tiera’s was and how friendly her and Matty were especially compared to the distance they kept on the way to George’s, was just too much. She let go of Matty’s long, thin arm, pushing it away as hard as she could, and wriggled out of his grasp as if he was some sort of rat who was going to give her the Bubonic plague. Shocked, he looked back at her - his arrestingly ravishing girlfriend, the apple of his eye (dare I say - I do apologize for the cheesiness), her Y/H/C hair and black dress swaying in sync as she bolted towards his best friend’s restroom. What the fuck? He thought, his mouth agape just as it had been the first time he laid eyes on her. Except, rather than admiration, he stared in confusion. 

    Remember when I said that their bathroom was Y/N’s favourite place to cry? Well, I wasn’t lying. She found George’s to have the same pleasant, calming atmosphere that screamed “I AM HERE FOR YOU”, just as Matty wanted to earlier - unbeknownst to her.

    She locked the door behind her as fast as she could, finding the light to be already on. She paced towards the mirror, recoiling in shock - she didn’t remember being that hideous at home. Maybe that’s because she hadn’t yet seen Tiera or any of the beautiful faces and bodies that peppered the gathering.

    After inspecting her face and looking as hard as she could, she managed to scavenge every single little ‘flaw’ in existence. She rushed to smash the lightswitch back off with every ounce of rage in her body, hurting her delicate palms in the process, which made the tears she didn’t even realize were there spill out even harder. Great, now she hurt physically and mentally. 

She slumped in the corner beside the sink, but not before pulling a fluffy green bathmat underneath her for a little bit of cushioning. Last time she cried in George’s bathroom, she split her palm open and thus felt as though she had every right to bawl her eyes out, considering the depth of the cut and her shockingly low pain tolerance - her and Matty were on the cold marble tile, hugging in intervals before her bandage was soaked through and needed to be replaced again--

    Oh dear. Matty. Thinking of him again made her sobs grow in volume and frequency, and she could’ve sworn that by now she looked like some sort of raccoon. And although she trusted him with her heart and soul and deep down knew he would never, she couldn’t help but think that he was probably making out with some thotty little twerp. She put her head in her hands, numerous thoughts flooding her mind as she cried and cried. The room was spinning. Just like out in the main room. It was spinning, it was blurry, she was hyperventilating, and although she knew she would have to leave the bathroom and face Matty eventually, she continued to hide, sulking in solitude. 

    Suddenly, knocks boomed throughout the echoey room, and Y/N hoarsely got out a small confirmation that the room was in use.

    “Y/N, we know it’s in use,” a gentle yet profoundly low voice replied. The voice was familiar - because, well, it belonged to the owner of the bathroom. “Could you come out, please? We’re worried sick.”

    She cried harder. She hated being a burden - that’s why she came here - but she’d made it ten times worse. Like always. “W-who’s w-we?”

    “Matty and me. Adam and Ross would be too, but we don’t know what they’ve gotten into.”

    “I’m not coming out.”

    “Please?”

    Y/N dragged her quivering body to the door and unlocked it, guilt and shame apparent on her features as she faced the two men in front of her. Matty scooped her up, tears in his eyes, holding her as close as he possibly could. He thanked George for having him over and bid his goodbyes before making his way to their shared car and buckling her into the passenger’s seat. He’d had an amaretto or two and knew he probably shouldn’t have been driving, but whatever; he could pay for whatever fine they gave him. Y/N was worth a DUI and a ticket.

    “What happened out there, love?” Matty inquired, sad brown gaze trying to read into her Y/E/C one.

    She shook her head, face and hair still caked with the salty liquid that wouldn’t dare stop seeping out of her eyes.

    He pursed his soft lips, before moving his hand too caress her wet cheek. “You have to tell me so I can help you, babe. I love you. How about we talk about it in bed?” He didn’t mean it sexually, at least not right now.

    She nodded. That was really all he needed, leaning in to place a heartfelt kiss on her lips, grinning as he saw a small smile form. He offered his hand, and she took it, and they stayed like that for the rest of their journey home.

    As soon as they got back, Matty made sure to tend to her every need - he tied her hair back, removed her rodent-like mess of makeup, and helped her get into more comfortable attire (his shirt, which secretly made him swoon). He frowned upon her refusal of chicken noodle soup - her favourite, especially when he made it. He carried her to their bed and decided to take charge and be the big spoon this time. “Alright, love. What’s up?”

    She bit the inside of her cheek anxiously. She’d stopped crying, however she was still on the verge of tears. “I think I had a panic attack in George’s bathroom. But that’s not th-the point. This week has been terrible. I’ve been getting a ton of hate, you’ve had interviews, which is good and all, but… bad timing, I guess? Ah, I don’t know. And you know that… that lunch that you made for us? It was good, really good, but, I was pretty bloated after that which never fails to get me down! And then we had to go to that party, and I felt ugly and disgusting, and it just… wouldn’t stop. At the party, I felt even worse. Sick. And everyone there was gorgeous, especially… what’s her name? Tia? Tyra? Tiera. Yes. And I thought you liked her because I’m a mess. And…” she paused, a tear falling down her cheek. “I think that’s it?”

    It hurt Matty’s heart to hear her pour hers out to him in such a melancholy way. He’d known of her insecurities -- it’s why she was usually quite hesitant about any intimacy whatsoever, even a simple hug -- and every single one of his attempts to comfort her, restore her self esteem, assure her she was the most gorgeous girl he’d ever laid eyes on (hence why they were dating). He sighed, pulling her into a warm embrace. “You’re breathtaking. Don’t ever think otherwise. And by the way,” he began, pausing as she cocked her head to the side. “I’ve got worry about her more than you do. She told me you were quite fit before you ran off.” They shared warm laughs, before Y/N looked into his eyes once again.

    “I love you, rockstar.”

    “I love you too.”

    And with that, both my hands and the star-crossed lovers got some rest. Writing six pages is not easy on the wrist.

[walker-journal]

Hottest people in White Crest?

Dude, you’re made of thought, what could that question even mean to you? You don’t have glands or any way to feel sexual attraction. Are you just trying to drive me stir crazy through horniness so I’ll run outside these defenses. Or are you legit serious?

Like if I described Penelope, her litheness, how I want to run my hands along the gentle slope of her hips, what does that even mean to you? What if I made it more complicated, like the fact that she can handle herself adds to that desire, how its a nice change flirt with someone I’ll won’t have to protect when shit goes down? But despite knowing she’s more powerful then ill ever be, I still kinna worry about her anyway sometimes?

Bone structure, the tension between unequal power in relations between people? You're a fucking ghost octopus.

Would it do any good If I tried to describe why Blanche makes concentrating on Math so hard. You have no slender shoulders that the lead the eyes down, down and down, until algebra is the farthest thing from a guys thoughts. Do you even know why girls that’ll look me in eye and not just yield to whatever I want can be arousing in a way I’m not used to?

Yeah I know, that’s not what my dreams probably say. But humans are an ugly awkward mix of both meat and spirit, so we’re good at wanting opposing things at the same time.

Can a being who technically never physically moves really appreciate kicking a ball around with Shiloh, admiring the way she moves and legwork in way that's not uh, conducive to actually winning the skirmish? Could a figment of thought relate to the whole process of disappointment and acceptance that comes after learning she’ll never desire me back?

You gotta understand, that doesn’t make her less beautiful in the human sense. Not having the proper brain/gland make up to physically want Ricky or Winn doesn’t make their ridiculous sweaty-muscle-beach-nuke  level of man-studness any less obvious. Just like the fact that Lucas and Orion seem too shy to properly leverage all the higher-brow-then-Adam vintage sex appeal, doesn’t mean it isn’t there.

It’s an male monkey acknowledgment thing, if that helps you at all dream squid. Like Noah’s fucking Hawaiian gorgeous which is why him talking about girls that I also have an interest in, brings on jealous murder-rage during boxing. That Kaden is some kind of Beastmaserr-Highlander man-slice is legit annoying. Though the knowing that Alain’s deep daddy-pool eyes probably cause all the soccer-moms at patronizing the garage to whisper “Grease me too!” isn’t as threatening. Its a context thing.

Asher is like some dangerous genetic experiment that combined James Bond with John Wayne, i’ve just accepted I can’t match that level of testosterone fusion reaction.

And yeah, Kaden’s disapproving cock-blockery only makes Regan more attractive. Not that she needed it. I can’t really explain to a spirit-vampire-thing why a deeply professional lady that's quadratically smarter then me would accentuate being the hottest doctor in existence.

Yeah want to be a role model to Athena but like, dayum, seeing the sorority lioness makes me want tother less exemplary things. The fact that she’s also a badass is also a big big plus in the bull moose throughts department. Also being freakishly strong as I am and having to be very …very…careful in certain intimate scenarios with ladies, someone like as strong as me that has Two X chromosomes, definitely a draw.

I know a creature like you can’t imagine “the talk” in teenage years with my ex-marine dad clearing his throat awkwardly and leading with like “So uh, your’re ripping doors off hinges, pulverizing phones while typing to fast, growing hair in weird places, and are probably figuring out that thing between you legs ain't just for watering the grass….sooooo…lets talk about how guys like us can be with a woman without breaking all her bones.

Thats one blessing of being a bodiless spirit, never having to hear your Dad say that. You are very very lucky Dream-eye.

Also uh an ignore all those dreams about the drop-dead gorgeous Beatrice, her sister, and me in a hot tub. Um, I probably need to like, talk to  a Rabbi about those.

[icyharrington]

Fever Dreams (Michael Langdon X Reader)

im just gonna go ahead and apologize for the fact that i literally did not proofread this at all bc im tired as fuck and have to wake up so fucking early tomorrow. i had so many technical difficulties writing this so i sincerely hope y’all enjoy reading this lmao

plot: (slight au taking place pre-apocalypse, in which miss robichaux’s academy integrates with the hawthorne school.) you can’t stand michael langdon. michael langdon wants nothing more than to get under your skin.

warnings: fem!Reader, intercourse, rough sex, dirty talk, spanking, school uniform michael 

word count: 3.1k

i.

“This is the best day ever,” whispered one witch to you, her eyes widening as a gaggle of fresh-faced men in well tailored uniforms strode into the dining room of Miss Robichaux’s academy.

“This is stupid,” you said bitterly, stabbing a fork into your food. “Integrating Miss Robichaux’s with Hawthorne is going to do nothing but distract us from the real important things.”

“Depends what you consider to be important,” said another witch. “I haven’t gotten dick in over a year.”

You rolled your eyes. You were the top witch in your class, and it was often whispered amongst your peers that you were next in line to become supreme. There was no way you’d let a bunch of testosterone-filled man-children get in the way of that, no matter how badly Cordelia wanted to be “inclusive”.

From the corner of your eye, you could see a man approaching you and your classmates. You refused to look over, taking a bite of food and staring blankly at the white wall across from you with as unfriendly of an expression on your face as you could manage.

“Ladies,” came a smooth voice, and you indulged yourself in a single discreet glance just to see what the guy looked like. He was tall, with well styled blond hair framing his face, which even you could admit had some top quality bone structure. He gave a small smile, but you could tell even through his polite demeanor that he was quite confident.

“My name is Michael Langdon. Thank you for welcoming us Hawthorne boys to your school,” he said, and you didn’t even have to look at your classmates to know that they were flustered. Stifling another eye roll, you turned your attention back to your plate.

“Hi Michael,” said the girl next to you, her voice breathy. She wasn’t even attempting to seem calm, which irritated you even further. The last thing this guy needed was an ego boost. You watched from the corner of your eye as he bowed slightly at the hip, his hand extended for her to shake.

He cleared his throat, and the girl on your other side nudged you slightly to get your attention. You looked up, and realized he was offering you his hand now. You just stared at it like it was a foreign object, hoping to piss him off.

He cocked an eyebrow at you and ran his tongue along his bottom lip.

“And you are?” He said. You were pleased to hear that he had the tiniest twinge of annoyance in his voice. Typical attractive boy, getting his ego bruised the minute a girl didn’t fawn all over him.

“(Y/n). I actually happen to be the top of the class here, and I don’t intend to let your kind get in the way of that.”

His lips turned up slightly on one end as his eyes surveyed you, and he crossed his arms in front of his flawlessly pressed blazer. “My kind?”

“Yes. Your kind. Men.” Maybe you were getting a tiny bit carried away with the bitch act, but something about this Michael Langdon character made you want to put him in his place. You had the feeling he was used to getting whatever he wanted whenever he wanted.

“Quite a backwards attitude to have in this day and age, don’t you think?”

“Maybe,” you said coolly. “But it’s the truth that women are superior in the art of witchcraft. So unless you need a tutor, I have no interest in interacting with you.” You stood up with a flourish, your chair screeching noisily against the wooden floor, and started on your way out.

You couldn’t help but look over your shoulder, though, to see his reaction. He simply stood there, hands in his pockets, an indecipherable expression across his face as he watched you. If you didn’t know any better, though, you might have even thought he was smiling.

ii.

It was a Saturday afternoon and you were practicing divination, your worst subject, in the living room. You’d asked one of your classmates to hide a series of objects throughout the room, and you were stuck as you tried to figure out the location of the final object, an old-fashioned golden pocketwatch.

You rubbed your temples and looked towards the ceiling, mumbling to yourself as you tried, unsuccessfully, to lift the fog in your mind.

You were so wrapped up in focus that you hardly noticed the sound of dress shoes crossing the wooden floor, and nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard a voice mere inches away from you.

“Is this what you’re trying to find?”

Your eyes shot open, only to find Langdon standing over you, a smug grin on his face as he dangled the watch out in front of him. Jumping to your feet from the couch, you snatched the object from his hand.

“Who told you where that was?”

“Nobody,” he said, pleased to witness your frustration. “Well, besides myself. I AM the top of my class in divination, you know.” There was a twinge of mocking to his tone, and you shot him a scowl.

“What are you even doing here?”

“What, am I not allowed to stroll the halls of my own lovely school?” he said, looking at you with mischief glinting in his piercing blue eyes. “The walls call out to me. I’m always hearing my name, echoing in and out of every corner.”

He stepped closer to you, and you scoffed. “Do you happen to excel in clairvoyance? Because those whispers might be all the thirsty girls at this school having wet dreams about you.”

He chuckled. “Does that bother you?”

“Why the fuck would that bother me?” you snapped, gathering your bag from the ground and swinging it over your shoulder. “Other than the fact that no one here gives a shit about witchcraft anymore, just about getting dicked down.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I haven’t been particularly interested in any of the girls here.”

“And I should care... why?” you brushed past him, huffing something about personal space issues under your breath as you tried to made your way to the door. Something, however, kept a hold on you, and your feet remained planted to the floor as Michael took a step closer to you.

“I think you’re jealous, (y/n),” he said, smirking again as he watched your face contort into anger. “Of the way I’m desired. Of the way I can have anyone I want. I can fuck a different witch every single day if I wanted to.” His voice was soft, seductive. Something swirled in the depths of your stomach as he spoke, but you ignored it.

You gaped at him, disgust blooming through you as you made another attempt to get away, in vain. “You really are a pompous dick.”

“Maybe,” he said, lips just inches from yours. You flinched, readying your fist at your sides to pummel him should he try anything. “But you, my dear, are a bitter bitch.”

With that, the hold on you broke, and you hurried towards the door. “Go fuck yourself,” you said, seething, not bothering to look at him.

“You’d like to see that, wouldn’t you?”

You knew it only fueled him when you gave him a reaction, but you couldn’t help it; flicking your wrist, you sent a book on the coffee table flying at his head, missing by mere centimeters as it slammed against the wall.

He only laughed, a low, deep luscious laugh that you knew you’d hear in your dreams.

Fucking asshole.

iii.

Lustful moans filled the air alongside the sound of skin slapping together, raw and vulgar, and you panted words that didn’t exist as the faceless man behind you thrust inside your walls.

The paintings on the walls watched you, the supremes of long ago casting shameful gazes upon your naked body.

You didn’t care.

There were hands on your body, hundreds of hands, some hot as embers and others cold as snow, and the all-white room seemed to stretch for miles and miles, the door evading you further with each second coaxing you closer to orgasm.

Michael, Michael, Michael, you thought, or said, or whatever it was, you couldn’t be quite sure, but your eyes were rolling back into your head now, lolling all the way until you could see the inside of your skull, and your brain, slimy and gray.

The world went white, but the man kept thrusting in you, taking you over, and you noticed a droplet of blood fall from your nose and onto the pristine, empty expanse of the ground.

AVE SATANAS, said a booming voice, and in that moment you came, harder than you ever had in your life, gasping for breath as your body convulsed with electrically charged pleasure.

When you woke up, it was past midnight, and you were drenched in a cold sweat. There was a throbbing ache between your legs, but you ignored it, begging the universe to let you fall back asleep undisturbed.

In the morning, you weren’t able to recall much about the dream, but there was no way you could forget the name which had repeated itself throughout like a taunt against your sanity.

Michael.

iv.

You were bothered enough by your dream that you opted out of the outing Cordelia had planned for everyone the next day. Her plan was to show the new students some of the most important magical landmarks around New Orleans, and you’d actually been pretty excited to go. Now, though, you’d much rather stay in your room and far away from Michael.

Whether or not your dream meant anything, he irritated you, and you didn’t feel like being put in a bad mood for the umpteenth time this week. So you stayed back, reading in your bed for a while, before you decided that you’d get something to eat from the kitchen.

Wearing only a skimpy tank top and shorts, you always feeling far too warm in the New Orleans heat, you rifled through the kitchen cabinets before deciding to have some Cheerios. You didn’t have much of an appetite at all, but you needed to eat something, so cereal was your meal of choice. You poured a bowl and headed back to the dining room, enjoying the fact that you had the usually chaotic house all to yourself.

Well, that’s what you thought, at least. You nearly dropped your bowl of cereal onto the ground in shock upon entering the dining room and seeing the last fucking person you wanted to see standing there, a bemused expression across his face.

“Michael,” you exclaimed, stopping in your tracks, all at once feeling extremely exposed in your revealing sleepwear. You put the bowl down before wrapping your arms around your prominent cleavage, embarrassment flooding your body as his blue eyes scanned your body not-so-discreetly.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he said with a smile. You had a sneaking suspicion that he knew you’d stayed home to avoid him, and so he, too, had decided to stay back to give you an unpleasant surprise.

The only difference between the two of you, though, was that he was wearing his uniform, impeccably ironed and suited perfectly to his frame. This only increased the flush in your cheeks, and you avoided his gaze as best as you could. “Michael, why are you here?”

“Wasn’t feeling up to the trip,” he said, bored, taking a step around the dining table to come closer to you, dragging his toe lightly on the ground as he did.

“Bullshit,” you said, backing away just slightly. “You stayed here so you could fuck with me.”

“Now what would ever make you think that?” He tilted his head to the side pensively, eyes searing into yours, and you felt your stomach drop. “Silly little witch. You really think I care that much about you?”

“Oh, please. It’s so obvious that you wanna get under my skin.”

He took another step towards you. You backed up again, steadily, keeping your eyes on him as your breaths drew shorter.

“And have I?” He asked, looking down at you, and it was then that you realized how much taller he was than you. You swallowed nervously, taking another shaky stride back as he cornered you even further, your back coming closer and closer to the wall with each step. “Have I gotten under your skin?”

You shuddered, remembering the dream, and suddenly you felt powerless, like he could wipe out your existence at any given moment. You knew he liked you to feel this way, utterly helpless, and your brain screamed at you to react. To throw him across the room with a single flick of your hand. But you didn’t.

“I think I have,” he said, coming closer, and you were startled by a thud as your back hit the wall behind you. He had you cornered now, so you just stood there, looking at him like a deer in headlights.

“You’re such a fucking dick,” you said, fists balled at your side, but you had no intentions of using them.

“Hm? And what are you going to do about it?”

His lips brushed your cheek, sending a harsh chill down your spine. Your throat defied you, letting out a soft whimper, and then his lips were on yours. Without a moment’s hesitation, you kissed him back, unable to resist him as he consumed you. Your hair stood on end at his touch, his hands grazing down your hips and onto your ass, squeezing greedily.

He hummed in your ear softly, his hand reaching up to grip your neck. “See, isn’t this what you wanted all along?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to reply; he lifted his knee up between your legs, smirking as you gasped at the sudden contact. You rocked your hips forward, hissing at the feel of his dress pants between your thighs, and he kissed you again, hungry and authoritative.

He wrapped his hands under your bare thighs, hoisting them up to wrap around his waist, and once he had a proper hold on you, he turned around and tossed you onto the dining table. You pulled him towards you by the front of his shirt, connecting your lips with his and sliding your tongue between his teeth.

He pulled off your top and didn’t waste a second before roughly groping your breasts, leaning forward to suck one nipple hard while rolling the other between two fingers, occasionally applying a jarring pinch. Then he flipped you over onto your stomach, clearly eager to get to the real action, your breasts flattening against the cold wooden table as your bare feet grazed the ground. He pulled your shorts and underwear down in one go, leaving you entirely vulnerable and naked in his presence. It made it worse that he hadn’t undressed himself at all, but something about being so submissive to him turned you on more than you’d care to admit.

He massaged both of your ass cheeks, spreading them apart and reaching one hand under you to slide between your slick folds. “So fucking wet for me,” he muttered, digging his fingernails into your skin, causing you to whine slightly.

“Since you’ve acted like a bitch for the duration of us knowing each other, I have no choice but to treat you like one,” he said, gripping your right ass cheek before giving it a hard, firm slap. You surged forward, but he yanked you back towards him, giving you another slap on the other cheek, harder this time.

You moaned, and he gave you another spank. “You like being treated like a bitch? Huh?” He asked, grabbing a fist full your hair and yanking it back. “Answer me,” he demanded.

“Yes, Michael, fuck,” you grunted, your words separated with each spank he gave you, each one harder than the next. You were sure your ass would be covered in his hand prints for the next week, but you didn’t care.

He paused, and you could hear the tell tale sound of him unzipping his pants. You bit your lip, knowing what was coming next, and you wanted so badly to turn around and see his cock. You stayed put, though, knowing not to act without his permission, and within moments you felt the head of his dick rub itself along your slit.

“Beg me,” he said, letting his dick sit just against your entrance. You squirmed slightly, and he placed his hand on your lower back to hold you still.

“Please, Michael,” you said, hardly aware of the words leaving your mouth. You just wanted him inside you, wanted him to own you. “Please fuck me. I’ll be good from now on, I’ll do whatever you want. Please.”

He rubbed himself against your wetness again, painfully slow, and without warning he slammed himself inside. You gasped, shocked at his massive length, but he did not give you time to adjust before committing to a quick, intense pace. Thrusting inside you ruthlessly, you grasped at the edges of the table to hold yourself steady, a string of expletives leaving you as he fucked you hard and fast.

One hand yanked your head back, hard, by the hair, while the other wrapped around to grip your throat, your hips bucking back to meet his thrusts as you panted desperately, shouting incoherent words as tears filled your eyes and dribbled onto the wooden surface of the table.

“You’re like a bitch in heat,” he said smugly, stopping mid-thrust. “Beg me to cum.”

“Please, Michael,” you said, voice cracking, cheek resting against the table and palms flat on either side of you. You’d never felt so degraded in your life, but you loved it. “Please. Let me cum, I’ll be good, I swear.”

He finished his thrust, filling you up and making you cry out, and it wasn’t long before your walls clenched around him and you came, bursts of white-hot light in front of your eyes. Only seconds later, he had your hips gripped hard in his hands as he hurried to finish, and you could only imagine how beautiful his face might look on the brink of an orgasm.

He let go, grunting with each breath, his warmth flooding up inside you. You laid there, trying to recover as he tucked himself back into his pants, seemingly unbothered by the whole interaction. You, on the other hand, knew you wouldn’t be able to sit for a good week; it was well worth it to you, though, and as you re-dressed yourself, you hardly could bring yourself to mind the cocky way he smirked at you.

He looked as if he was about to speak, and you shot him a playful, yet slightly annoyed glance as you pulled your top back over your head. “Don’t even say anything,” you said, and he laughed.

That night, you dreamt of Michael again, but this time, you liked it.

[tasteslikepepsicola]

Stranger to me Now

Summary: Y/N comes home one day and finds her boyfriend of three years, Grayson Dolan, with another woman. Now, they must confront each other and decide how to handle the situation, do they try to fight for their love? Or walk away? 

Note: I took heavy inspiration from Ross and Rachel’s first breakup on friends, and minimal inspiration from the play Hamilton. 

Btw let me know if you want a part two? if this does well I would definitely consider it, I would love to see this have a happy ending.

Also lol this has been in my drafts TOO long and I’m so happy to finally be publishing it.

Warnings: Hella angst, some cursing, mentions of sex/hookups? Kinda? - NO SMUT

Word Count: 2k+

Enjoy! ~I do not own nor did I create this GIF, all credit to original creator~

His strong arms wrapped around me, lifting my body off the ground just so slightly. My feet danced over his as we swayed back and forth in the dimly light gazebo. My arms tangled behind his neck as my hands found Graysons soft brown hair. I buried my face in his chest, and just for a moment, it was as if we were the only two people in the world.

“Y/N?” Gray inquired softly, rubbing my shoulder and back soothingly.

I picked my head up slightly and met his hazel eyes with my own y/e/c orbs. I hum in response.

“You know I love you...just so much? You know that right?” He plays with my hair as he waits for my reply.

I pull back for a moment, concerned. The party surrounding us has seemingly fizzled, with almost every guest having left. In any circumstance, most attendees had chosen to remain inside the venue, while a few couples such as Gray and I had gotten the idea to explore the property. We had lucked out and found what seemed to be the most romantic, private place in all of New Jersey.

Now, in this peaceful atmosphere it almost seemed out of place for him to be asking such a question.

“Of course, G, I love you too.” I smile softly, hoping to reassure whatever strange insecurity had washed over him lately.

“Good, good.” His voice trails off, and he steals a nervous glance at the floor.

“Alright, I don’t wanna stall anymore. Y/N, I love you. And I wanna spend the rest of my life with you.” Panic came over me as I began to realize the weight of what he was trying to say.

I was too young to be married, we were only eighteen.

“I know we’re young- I,” his voice began to shake. “But I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. I wanna marry you, someday.” He kissed my forehead gently.

“Will you accept this promise ring, Y/N? I want to show you how real this is to me. I love you.”

An onslaught of emotions came onto me like a tidal wave crashing. Relief, shock, and most of all, undoubtedly true love.

Tears streamed down my face, despite my attempts to push them back.

“Yes, Gray. Of course! Oh my god- yes!” In an instant, our lips were attached .

He picked me up by my waste and spun me around in such a way it looked straight out of a movie.

Looking back, maybe it was all too good to be true.

…………………….

Two Years Later

“I don’t know, it seemed like we were just so perfect in the beginning. Now? Ha-”

I let out a sharp, bitter laugh.

“I spend more time with Ethan- and oh get this! Grayson has the audacity to get mad that I spent time with E. Its like hes jealous. God, he's my best friend and his twin. And he doesn’t even trust me around him. Graysons just ridiculous these days.”

I rant to my friend, allowing all the messy details of my relationship to come out over a short meeting for lunch. It just is nice to have someone to talk to besides Ethan. He’s great, but at the end of the day he’s still Grayson’s twin. And he could never be truly unbiased.

“Before all the bills started piling up, and the stress got out of hand, we would talk about our future. Our wedding color scheme, future kids names, we wanted it all. The white picket fence home, I would go to PTA meetings and yoga classes, and at the end of the day, the kids and I would run to greet him when he gets home from work. Now, well look at me. It's been two years and still no real ring, just this damn reminder of all the broken promises.”

My eyes well up with tears, remembering all of the failures our relationship has weathered recently.

“And with the rumors all over social media-” I pause, choked up.

“Not even the fans think we’re gonna last.”

We chat for a few more hours, and I try to clear my head, but I am constantly drawn back to Grayson. Finally, we say goodbye and I order an uber to take me back to the apartment I share with Gray.

………

My fingers stiff and numbed from the cold, I fiddle with my keys for a second, unable to unlock the apartment.

Damn this stupid, old, shitty door knob.

I keep trying, but with little success. I give up, utterly exhausted and fed up with the world.

“G!” I call. I start banging on the door. “Gray! Let me in it’s freezing.”

There is no response, just the sound of frenzied scuffling from inside the door. I wait for a moment, before giving up and reaching for my keys once more. After multiple failed attempts, I unlock the door on my own, and enter the apartment.

I toss my keys on the counter, and rub my forehead with my index finger and thumb, in a frustrated, stressed, kind of way.

“Gray, I’m home!” I call, starting to look around for my boyfriend.

When there is once again no response, my curiosity spikes. His car was in the parking garage, what was up with him?

I scan each room on the first floor before heading up the stairs.

“Gray?” I continue to call.

I push open the door to our shared bedroom, and then, my earth shattered. Sitting there on our bed, is a half dressed, sloppy looking instagram model. I rub my eyes furiously, trying to clear whatever strange illusion this is from my sight. And yet, there she stays, wearing a look that says I took what was yours, and made it mine.

I cover my mouth to prevent a sob from leaving my body. And then I see him, Grayson comes running out of the bathroom, with only a towel hanging around his hips.

I hold his gaze for a moment, and study him, his lips parted in shock, eyes full of regret. In that moment my eyes asked what I couldn’t manage to; how could you?

We are both pulled back to Earth and I turn my back, rushing for the door, needing to escape this horrible nightmare I had walked in on.

No quicker than I can reach the door, Grayson has lunged towards me, grabbing at my arms, desperate.

“Y/N, Y/N, oh my god, fuck, please baby, please. Don’t leave.”

I tug my arm away from him to wipe my tears.

“I know this is fucked, I know this is the worst thing I could have ever done, I know you probably hate me- I- I deserve that. Just-” he can’t find the words.

I finally meet his gaze, “let go of me.” I say quietly but sternly. Silence falls upon the room as his eyes plead with me not to do this. His grip softens, and I am able to tear away from him, and down the stairs.

I look for my keys frenzied, tears blurring my vision.

Upstairs, I hear some shouting and within ten seconds the girl is racing out the door. I glance at her before she is able to leave, taking in her appearance. Everything about her resembles a younger me, the me that Grayson had fallen in love with, the me I had somehow lost. From the way her hair fell, to the way her eyes glowed with life, even straight down to our similar bone structure. A chill came over me. Does he love her like he used to love me? The moment of contemplation is ripped away as the nameless model tears her vision away from my own, and is out the door before I can say anything.

Moments later, Gray comes thundering down the stairs, distress etched across his face.

“Y/N, please, please just hear me out.” He begs.

Staring at the man standing in front of me, it was almost impossible to recognize what he had become. Half dressed, apologetic, he looked a mess. And I loved him. I loved him so much. What was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to go on living without the one thing I had centered my whole life around?

Had I been so blind that I couldn’t see what our relationship had truly become? We were nothing but a wilting flower, we couldn’t whether the harsh realities that Winter would bring. And maybe our last petal just fell.

Tears fell from my eyes, and anger spread throughout my body.

“What? What could you possibly have to say to me? You have thrown everything away! Now you need to stand back and watch it all burn.” I screamed, my voice breaking.

I rush for the door, but he stops me once again.

“Y/N, oh my god, please don’t do this. I hate myself for ever hurting you. But I can’t live without you, I-” He makes needy, grabbing motions for my body, holding out my arms first.

“I can’t live without these arms, these beautiful arms.” He chokes on his words as tears finally fall from his own eyes.

“I- I can’t be without these arms. Or your heart- your beautiful, beautiful heart.” He places a hand over my heart, searching for any sign of forgiveness in my eyes.

“I can’t lose you, please, Y/N, I love you. Don’t do this. Don’t leave me.” He has now sunk to his knees, arms wrapped around my waist, sobs raking his body to match my own.

It’s clear neither of us wants this, but I can’t, no I won’t allow myself to be so devalued.

I place my hand on his cheek, fighting through tears, and wiping his as they fall.

“I used to think of you as someone who would never hurt me, how could I have been so wrong?”

He remains silent.

“And I can’t stop picturing you with her. It all just keeps replaying in my mind.”

I collect myself a tiny bit, taking a deep breath and swallowing hard.

“You’re a totally different person to me now, it will never be the same.” I finally say what I hadn’t been able to.

He rises to his feet, placing his hands in mine. I allow him to bury his face in my neck one last time, my desire to hold him one last time suddenly outweighing my fury.

After a moment, I snake my arms around his body and pull him into a final hug, our last goodbye.

In our last moments, I ponder how he was able to hurt me worse than anyone ever had, and I still had so much love for him. That's when I realized, heartbreak and betrayal doesn’t take away the love, and that’s what makes it so hard.

I pull away from him at last, kiss him on the cheek, and flip his hand over so I’m holding his in mine.

“I’ll have Ethan come get my stuff in a few days…” I mutter.

“Y/N…” his voice breaks.

“Don’t.” is all I am able to say. I know if I stay any longer, I’ll never leave.

I finally do what I had intended on doing, placing the promise ring in the palm of his hand gently. I close his fist around it, and even after just seconds without it on, I already felt incomplete.

There was nothing I wanted more in that moment than to feel his body on mine, to be held in his strong embrace, to go back to how things were, like none of this had ever happened. But it was blatantly clear that would never be able to happen.

I trace his knuckles with the tip of my thumb, lingering for just a moment before pulling away. Feeling my entire heart shatter what seemed like a million different times, over and over again.

I turn to walk out the door, and out of Grayson Dolan’s life forever.

“Goodbye, G...”

He blinks and a tear rolls down his cheek, he stands stunned, in a trance like state with his lips just barely parted, face flushed.

“Goodbye Y/N…”

The door shuts behind me, and seconds after, over the sound of my sobs, I hear him punch the wall behind me in anguish and let out a cry.

All I knew now, was that I truly knew nothing about my own world.