#my tags are becoming more messy with each passing day

[sim0nril3y]

Your Flat

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: It's date night and Simon invites himself over to your flat to pick you up and he finally sees that chaos that you're living in, along with your artwork. Note: Set in 2014 Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), teasing, smut, P in V, Simon being his usual guarded self, canon-typical swearing.

Friday night. It was date night – something one night that you had jokingly called it and now it had begrudgingly become part of his own vocabulary too. It was now the thing in the week that Simon was beginning to look forward to the most. There had been no conversation of commitment but Simon knew that he liked spending time with you. Actually, you were consuming his mind outside of spending date nights with you. Deep down a voice continued to tell him that this was all a bad idea and that your safety was being risked but that voice was beginning to become more and more quiet as each day passed.

This would be the first time that Simon would see your flat. It had been the only thing you had been fairly secretive about. Rapping his knuckles loudly against the door Simon smirked to himself as he heard a flurry of sound from behind it. It swung open swiftly and witnessed you rushing in the opposite direction down the hallway, minus a few items of clothes. “You’re early!” That had been intentional, otherwise you’d had met him in the carpark and he’d never been able to set foot in your flat. “Come in!” You coaxed from your bedroom.

Entering your flat Simon was instantly overwhelmed by the sheer chaos of the place. It was small but it was full of clutter and art supplies, they were littering almost every surface. There was laundry slung over every door and radiator, hanging off the backs of chairs and on hangers over doorways, interestingly every place but the airer designed for it which was instead housing some of your drying canvas’. “Jesus, kid…”

“I didn’t realise I’d have company!” You hollered from your bedroom, sounding breathless behind the door, bumping into objects and fussing over trying to find something appropriate to wear. "I'm sorry!" You tagged on quickly.

In your lounge area there was one particular space that caught his attention. There were stacks of canvas’ placed against one another, an old looking easel, rows of different paints and brushes. Oh, so this must have been where you created your artwork and those canvas’ must have been the finished pieces. Simon took great care as he stepped into that little shrine and began to inspect them. It wasn’t like he understood art anyway. Looking at some pieces made him feel certain ways. It was invoking emotions – wasn’t that what art was supposed to do? Fuck, he wasn’t some connoisseur but he could see that you were very talented. “Right, I’m-” Your flustered frame bound around the corner still mid putting your heel on and cutting you sentence short as you spotted Simon in your ‘art studio’. “Oh, you found my art…”

Simon was careful in returning the canvas’ how he had found them and turned to you. “It was about the only thing I could find in here…” There was a tell-tale look of embarrassment that flashed across your features as you rolled your eyes. “You are a messy pup…” He commented taking a few steps in your direction and quirking a brow down at you, as if waiting for some explanation.

“I-It isn’t usually this bad…” There was so much defensiveness to your tone, attempting to rack your brain for some reasonable excuse for your flat being in such a state. “I woke up and I had this massive spark that I just knew I needed to get onto canvas… right, I’m not making excuses…. God, I know I must sound so stupid…. I’m not making a whole lot of sense, but-” “Kid, enough.” His firm tone commanded, reaching up and tugging you gently in his direction. “Honestly, I couldn’t care less if your flat is messy…” You let out a relieved puff of air. “As long as mine doesn’t end up the same way, I’m fine with it.” A bright smile found your lips. “What time did you say our table is booked for?”

His eyes narrowed softly as he felt your dainty fingers dancing along his belt. “Babe…” It was a warning. “What?” There was such false innocence to your tone and that was what finally made him snap.

It seemed very clear that your IKEA bedframe wasn’t up to the task of being fucked on. It creaked and cracked dangerously with each thrust into your trembling frame, the headboard was clattering against the wall so much that Simon wondered if he should put a pillow behind it to try and save your poor neighbours ears. All this whilst you whine and whimpered beneath him, clearly unaware of all this commotion. It appeared that all that consumed your mind was the way he perfectly stretched your tight walls to accommodate his girthy cock.

With one particularly strong crack beneath him Simon grumbled out. “M’gonna break your fuckin’ bed…” It earned a fit of giggles from you that mixed with a soft load of whimpers. “Fuck off. I’m being serious.” Even he could fight the small smirk before finally deciding to save your poor bed anymore stress.

Instead, his arms wound around your frame. “Fuckin’… c’mere…” His cock still buried deep within your walls as he rose from the bed and placed you against the closest surface. There wasn’t any hesitation from there, Simon began to fuck into your wet cunt with reckless-abandon. This time he was far more confident that he would be able to do any structural damage to your home. There wasn’t any way that he’d be able to knock down a loadbearing wall from fucking alone. “My good girl~”

Rushing from your flat once they had cleaned up and resituated the majority of their clothes. You were speaking your worries about the possibility of missing the table whilst trying to work your key into the dodge lock barrel, it didn’t escape your knowledge your grumpy old neighbour Peter was lingering outside smoking over the balcony and observing the estate below him. “These flats have thin walls, you know…” He muttered lowly and Simon narrowed his eyes as you struggled with the lock, cursing softly under your breath.

“Bad enough I have to listen to that shit you call music, but now I have to listen to you fucking too-” “That’s enough.” Simon growled out at him causing Peter to look in his direction furious. By luck the key finally spun and you were quick to be by Simon’s side, taking his hand and beginning to drag him past Peter and away from the possibility of an altercation.

As you got further away from Peter, you finally decided you could laugh softly, looking at Simon and saying. “You don’t have to fight every prick that says something stupid to us…” Taking your hand he tugged you close and pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead. “How else are they gonna learn not to be disrespectful to you.” He watched the way that your eyes filled with such adoration. “Now get your arse moving before I end up fucking you in the stairwell just to prove a point to that twat…”

Masterlist | Ask | 05-09-2023

[celestialspecial]

Man of the Hour

Tags: 18+, Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Obviously smut, oral, p in v Author Notes: Back from the dead to give you my first Bucky fic (I only write for people who have alliterative B names /Ben Barnes/Bucky Barnes- we all have limits) Summary: Bucky hates fundraisers, but they are a reality for him now being a congressman. Thankfully he has you to make sure they're not all boring.

The city was an aglow tonight, the moon high overhead casting a silvery blanket over the pavement and all its inhabitants. Normally on a Friday night while everyone was going out and dancing or drinking until sun up you were used to staying in. 

The siren song of sweatpants, Chinese food and a few episodes of an old reliable sitcom to ease you off into slumber called to you. Stars overhead twinkled brilliantly and laughter from a passing crowd coated your unconventional evening. 

You tugged at the hem of the slinky red dress the saleswoman had talked you into. “Classy yet statement making”. She had insisted, helping zip you up as your hands skimmed over the front. Silky fabric that felt cool to the touch and covered enough of your legs and chest to be considered tasteful but a slight drop across your chest to skirt the line of danger. 

It was way out of your comfort zone and yet it spoke to you from the hanger the second she’d brought it in. Your reflection in the dressing room had stared back and you barely recognized her. She was elegant. Perfectly poised and gently coiffed. Not a strand of hair out of place. 

You supposed this was going to be more of your life now. Smiling and being amicable to a certain extent. Pristine to the best of your abilities. You wanted to jump out of your own skin at the thought of this going in for years. Decades maybe. 

A shiver danced across your shoulders at the thought, not helped by the cool breeze rustling the branches of a nearby tree as you rubbed at your arms, attempting to warm yourself briefly. The small baguette bag clutched tightly in your fist as you could see the building come into view. 

Large groups of other finely dressed people corralled inside. The soft noise of the street amped up another level as your heels clacked ever closer to the doormen watching and waiting for your arrival. The one man nodded at you as you gave him a small polite small.

The large ornate glass doors opening wide to let you pass. A million conversations bombarded you at once, as couples, and groups crowded around the elevators waiting for the telltale ding and to shove themselves in to capacity. 

You didn’t force yourself into the last ride and instead enjoyed the brief moment of silence as the doors closed. The polished golden mirroring back how you appeared. Truly looking the part, congressman’s girlfriend. Politics. The idea made your head hurt some days. 

But you loved him and he loved you and this is what partners did. Show up and support each other. Even if it meant your next few, or twenty, weekends consisted of fundraisers. Messy buns and cozy slippers would still be waiting for you whenever that time came around again. 

The elevator doors chimed open and you stepped inside, a perfectly manicured nail pressing the button for the penthouse floor. Your stomach lurched with the machinery as you felt yourself rising higher and higher. The street below you dropping far away and your eyes feeling like they were becoming level with the stars and moon overhead. 

Each floor lit up as you passed it and you took one last steadying breath before the chaos ensued. The doors opened and relieved the huge packed space. Elbow to elbow, it seemed to pulse with loud noise and voracious conversation.

Rhythmic music, people talking, glasses clanging, laughter. You rubbed softly at the center of your chest, hoping for the knot to lessen just a little. 

“There she is! We weren’t sure you were coming!” a gentle older man you’d met at a few previous fundraising events came forward. Your mind raced for what his name was, Carl? John? Surely, Thomas? Yeah Thomas. Maybe. 

“Oh you know, can’t keep me away.” You managed through a plastered smile on your face. The corners of your mouth already beginning to ache. Thomas, or John gave a warm laugh. 

“Well it’s very nice to see you again. Your man is in with the sharks right now. Might be best to give him a moment of reprieve.” You nodded before proceeding to push and squeeze through all the other guests at the event. 

Multiple conversations and pleasantries were exchanged around you as you edged further into the space. Until your eyes finally landed on him. Towering over everyone around him to an almost laughable extent. 

His dark brown hair, on the longer side but still trimmed neatly in all the right places. His blue eyes fixated on the man in front of him who appeared to be a little drunk, clearly telling a hilarious story. 

Congressman James Buchanan Barnes. 

He looked so damn fine in that custom-tailored suit, fabric stretched taut across his back and broad shoulders. Soft stubble beginning to reappear along his jaw despite having shaved recently for this occasion. 

He looked very far off from the man you’d grown accustomed to. Soft evenings at home, cuddling on the couch, drinking in each other’s company and laughing until your stomachs hurt. 

Here he looked professional. The man of the hour, rising above the circlet of people surrounding him. He exuded power here. The energy behind his expressions gave him away though. To you anyways.

He smiled but his lips were tight. He made eye contact but the light behind felt forced. He’d laugh alongside the others even though it felt weary. He looked tired and your throat tightened, wanting to jump in and rescue him for once. 

You started, walking towards him and in a swift moment he caught sight of the movement and your eyes locked. 

The icy blue of his eyes grew warm, the stiffness in his face melted away and the tense posture of his shoulders dropped and he smiled. Genuinely smiled at you. And it all felt worth it.

The dress, the lack of comfort food, the busy events and constant fundraisers he needed to attend. 

No matter how long you’d been with him seeing all his attention on you and how it lit up his entire face. It still made your stomach flip. Butterflies nestling in deep.  

Moving around the outskirts of the group before Bucky parted the few stragglers with a polite smile. 

“Is there a congressman here? I have a few grievances to air.” The corners of his eyes crinkled, hand warmly finding the small of your back, mouth dipping forward to capture your lips in a chaste kiss.

Keeping it brief for the optics around you two, but you’d be lying if it still didn’t send tingles down to your toes. 

“Is that so? Maybe I can be of assistance.” He played along, his nose grazing the shell of your ear, breathing deeply as your hair tickled against your jawline in the process. 

“Like for instance,” you held up your empty palms to him. “There isn’t a drink in either of my hands.” The smile that broke across his face made you giggle. Vibrant and full of an ease that was hidden not a moment ago. 

“Now that is something I can help with.” 

You let him lead you across the chaotic room, being stopped no less than three times by random men in suits or elegantly dressed fellow politicians. The room oozed exclusivity. 

Eventually the two of you reached the bar, bartenders rushing back and forth to accommodate all the drink orders coming in. Champagne bottles were popped, glasses of red wine stacked neatly for easy access. Lowball glasses glimmered with dark amber liquids. 

“One Rosé.” Bucky winked at you and you rose onto your toes to place a soft kiss to his cheek. “And an old fashioned for me.” He pulled out a simple black wallet from under his suit jacket and tossed a few bills into the tip jar off to the side. 

The one bartender noticed and nodded in gratitude, moving with ease to uncork a fresh bottle of rosé and poured a generous amount into a glass. Bucky slid the glass across the bar, gripping the stem as he moved it over to your waiting hand. 

“I was afraid this was a cash bar for a second.” He grinned, sharing a quick thanks to the bartender who handed him his drink next. 

“It’s been known to happen.”

“How tacky.” You couldn’t hide the cheeky grin you had on behind your glass. 

“Rich people sure can be cheap.” He took a long sip from his own glass. Drinking hard liquor wasn’t his usual thing, more content to be stationed on the couch with a beer. 

“Look at us being fancy.” You clinked your glass against his. “And you.” Raising the wine, a tad bit higher in front of him. “To my James, making the world a better place.” 

Your voice is soft, almost drowned out by the hundreds of conversations happening around you, but he heard it. Eyes softening, lids lowering as he lifted his hand to your chin. 

The cool metal of his fingertips brushing against your heated skin. His gaze lingering on yours just a moment too long to feel casual. 

Bucky stepped in closer, the press of his body nearly flush against yours, his lips brushing against your temple. “You’re the only thing keeping me sane through all this,” he murmured, low and sincere.

Warmth bloomed across your cheeks, chest feeling suddenly tight and constricted but not out of anxiety. Out of need. A deep desire to no longer be packed in a room like sardines. 

You looked up at him, fingers lightly skimming the lapel of his jacket. “And how do I get repaid for such a vital public service?” you teased. He caught on quickly, seeing the mischief play across your eyes. 

You lifted your free hand up to twist the ends of a long brown lock that had escaped from behind his ear. The back of your fingernails scratching the side of his cheek. His eyes fluttered closed at the sensation, sucking in a steadying breath. 

“I think…we should leave.” He stated as your hand fell from his face to glide down, resting on his chest. Heart fluttering beneath your fingertips. 

You fingered the silken fabric of his tie, toying with it back and forth as you spoke softly to him.

“That’s not very professional of you, Congressman.” The corner of his mouth twitched. 

“I’ll blame it on Civic Fatigue.” A laugh bubbled in your chest at that. 

“I’m pretty sure that’s not a thing.” He leaned forward, lips ghosting along your temple.

“It is now,” he whispered, his voice husky. 

You could feel your resolve evaporate right there. Every inch of you was hyperaware of him, of the electricity that existed only in the slivers of quiet you got like this. His hand was still resting at the small of your back, but his thumb began tracing slow circles through the fabric.

“Did I mention how much I love this dress?”

“No, you didn’t.” A soft moan caught in the back of your throat as you felt the heat from him sinking into your skin through the thin fabric. 

“Sure you don’t want to sneak away?” 

“Maybe… no one will notice.” The way his hand dug a little harder into the flesh at your waist, knowing he’d gotten his way. 

You let him take your hand, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease. He gave a few succinct nods, tight smiles—his usual performance. But you could feel the tension building in the space between your clasped hands.

“Congressman Barnes!” An older man and his very tipsy wife approached you both out of the crowd. You felt Bucky’s hand flex in yours, irritation at being stopped once again. 

“Senator Hudson.” He nodded at the woman to his side. “And Martha. How nice to see you both. I’m sorry but…”

“We were just talking about how excited we are for your upcoming initiatives!” The woman exclaimed, her words slurred. She went to take another gulp of her red wine when a chorus of laughter rang out behind you. 

A wave of mirth rolled forward and shoulders were bumped and wine was sloshed. Martha’s to be exact. Splashing against your chest and a few stray dots splattering against the white of Bucky’s button up. 

“Oh goodness!” Martha exclaimed “I am so sorry!” She hid her burgeoning laughter behind her now half empty wine glass. 

“If you’ll excuse us.” Bucky wrapped his arm behind you, pulling you both off to the side. Red wine dripped between your cleavage and soaked into the front of your dress. 

“Shit.” You flung your hands down, droplets scattering around your feet. 

“Ok first we clean up then we leave?” He asked already placing your drinks on the nearest bar top. You could only nod, your mouth twisting up in frustration and cheeks a little hot with embarrassment now. 

Navigating to the closest bathroom, the door clicking shut behind you and the noise from the party becoming muffled. You turned to the mirror examining the damage done. 

“So much for looking put together.” You blotted some toilet tissue on your clavicle, sopping up as much liquid as possible. 

“I think you look stunning.” Bucky paused behind you. You could feel him staring, feel the heat from his body as he hovered a breath away from your back. 

Your eyes met his in the mirror. Heat, smoldering in them. 

“Here.” He gestured to the tissue you’d been using, handing it over to him where he proceeded to dab at your shoulders, skimming along the inside of your arm where a stray rivulet of red wine had wandered. 

“It got everywhere.” You said in disgust, beginning to feel it start to dry, growing sticky against your skin. 

“Did it now?” Even here, in your soaked dress, surrounded by tons of people who felt more important than you, he somehow could still manage to fan that flame inside you. His voice deep, awakening the part of you that had fallen momentarily dormant with its unexpected wine shower. 

He stepped back, removing his suit jacket, hanging it on the hook near the door. Fingers grazing the lock to make sure it was secure. Pushing up his sleeves, you turned to watch the fabric slowly being rolled up to his elbows.  

How he could make such a small movement erotic was foreign to you. His metal arm shimmering in the soft bathroom lighting as he flexed his fingers, unconstrained by his shirt now.

“Where else are you wet?” He asked. The double meaning of that made you want to cross your legs, the marble sink cutting into your back as you leaned away to take him in. 

“Everywhere.” You bit your lip in anticipation as you watched the dam break behind his eyes. All signs of the poised and composed politician were gone. The man before you resembled more of an animal. A hungry one at that.

Then he was on you, mouths clashing together, hand fisting into your hair. Tangling in the loose tresses and tugging you closer. You moaned into his mouth, his tongue laving across yours, hot and a faint taste of whiskey on his lips. 

His hips ground into yours, hardness pressing against your thigh and you nearly melted in a pool to the floor. If his hands weren’t gripping you in place, it was a very real possibility. 

“Bucky-“ your breath caught in a gasp as his mouth moved to the soft skin of your neck, kissing a heated path down to the notch where your shoulder met it. 

“Mmmm.” Was all you got in response. Heat soaked in where his hand clutched to your back, and you were locked in place at your waist where his metal one rested. 

Your hands gripped the edge of the counter, nails digging into the expensive marble. Then he dropped to his knees. One hand came up to loosen his tie, fingers tugging it free with a quick flick. Then undoing the top two buttons by his collar. 

The stiff white fabric gaping open enough for you to see his throat. Swear in your lust induced haze you could see the pulse in his neck speed up. 

“I’ve been thinking about this all night.” He murmured, pressing a tender kiss to your knee. 

“Splashing wine on me?” Your tone was joking but the breathless nature of it gave you away. He knew it, could sense it even without you talking. 

“A means to an end.” 

He reached for a folded linen towel from the small counter and dabbed gently, reverently, at your thigh where a streak of red wine still lingered. But his fingers followed the cloth, bare, hot, wanting.

You felt your breath hitch, the cloth dropped to the floor forgotten, his mouth eagerly replacing it. Soft at first, the scratch of his stubble against your bare skin driving you wild as he moved upwards. 

Open mouthed now, tongue tracing every area of your thigh. Where the wine had touched you first, and places where it hadn’t. His palms held you steady as he worked his way up, slow, torturous devotion behind every movement.

Hands gliding up your legs pushing your dress higher and higher. Feeling the hot air escaping his mouth as he reached the apex of your thighs. 

“You always manage to do this to me.” Your eyes had fluttered shut, anticipation streaking through your body. “Distract me in the best way.” He propped your one leg over his shoulder. 

You wanted to say something. A clever remark, a thoughtful quip, something- anything. But your mind wasn’t focused on thinking, your body had taken over and your whole world shrunk down to this very bathroom and the feeling of wherever his body met yours. 

“Bucky,” you whispered, hips arching toward his mouth.

“Shh,” he grinned up at you, eyes dark and devilish. His metal hand snaked its way up your body and with a sudden tug you felt your underwear pop off at the seams, reduced to a useless bundle of lace. 

And then his mouth was on you. Ravenous. Tongue diving so deep your legs already shaking. Fingers gripping his hair, an ache in the center of your palms as you held on for dear life. 

You whimpered feeling his hands pull you forward, fully flush against his wicked mouth. He moaned into you, your head falling back at the vibration that sank into your core. 

“Oh god.” One hand still held tightly to his hair, the other scratching for purchase on the back of his shirt. 

Your back hit the cool mirror as you braced yourself, hips moving instinctively against his face. His grip on your thighs tightened—firm but possessive—and he groaned like he couldn't get enough. Every flick of his tongue, every hum of pleasure from his throat sent shocks through you. 

He devoured you.

He pulled back just long enough to murmur, voice wrecked and lips glistening, “You taste better than that wine ever could.” Before resuming his tortuous ministrations, your body wracked with pleasure, the tight coiling sensation in your belly growing stronger with each stroke. 

He knew your body like the back of his hand and when his lips finally sucked around the most sensitive part of you, thigh trembling against his shoulder you came undone. 

A high-pitched gasp escaped your lips as he finished you, your body turning molten and liquid beneath his grip. Blood rushed in your ears as you managed to take a shaky breath. 

He looked up at you, pupils blown wide, barely a ring of blue visible. Rising to his feet slowly, never removing his hands from your body, the bottom of your feet barely scraping the ground beneath them. 

“You’re shaking.” He whispered against your lips, mouth still wet with you. 

“I think you are too.” A tremor shifted through his body, his chest heaving under your hands. Your fingers crawling up the front of his shirt and making quick work of the buttons there. Before dropping to his belt, tugging at the loop and zipper. 

Both of you panting again, his pants dropping down, barely touching the floor before he had you turned around. Back pressed against his chest, palms braced against the bathroom sink. 

“I didn’t see this happening tonight.” You gulped in air as he kissed your neck, this time possessive and fierce. His muscled legs pressing into the back of your own.

“Neither did I, but I’m glad it is.” Hot breath fanned across your shoulder. “You okay?” He asked, palming himself over his boxers, desperate and hard. Your thighs clenched, hips pushing back into him. Dying for his touch again.

“Yes. I- I need you.” That was all it took, dropping his boxers with focused urgency, burying himself inside you in one smooth thrust. 

You gasped, bracing yourself against the counter as he sank in deep. The stretch was intense, perfect, everything. He stayed still for a beat, forehead against your shoulder, groaning as he adjusted to the heat of you.

“Fuck.” He hissed. “Feel so good, every fuckin’ time.”

Then he started to move, slowly. Deep grinding strokes, setting an even pace. You choked out a soft noise and his hand moved up to gently cover your mouth.

“Can’t let them in on our secret.” he murmured against your ear, rocking into you harder now. “Don’t want the whole damn party knowing what I’m doing to you.”

He picked up, moving faster, hips slapping against the curve of your ass. With each thrust, try as you might, a whimper would escape. A soft gasp, as his movements grew more frantic.

Fingers gripping you tightly right where he needed you. The sharp metal hand biting into your waist, knowing there’d be marks there when you were done.

Your eyes squeezed shut, lips parted, head falling back onto his shoulder as he drove into you faster, deeper. Blinking open lazily through the haze around you, seeing your forms moving in the mirror in front of you. Desperate. Hungry.

You moaned, walls fluttering tight around him. He swore into the side of your neck. Nose pressed into your hair.

“You feel so damn good. Gonna come so hard inside you if you keep squeezing me like that.”

“Bucky—” your voice broke on a whimper, pleasure building impossibly fast, molten and electric and right there. You were so close.

“Come for me darlin’ let me feel you fall apart.” His fingers reached between your legs with practiced ease, touching right where you needed him to. Then you shattered, back arching, mouth open, moaning louder than you intended as your orgasm tore through you.

He followed just moments later with a guttural moan, pressing so deep into you it felt like he’d never leave. His hips stilled as he emptied into you, trembling hands holding on like you were the only steady thing left in the universe.

The bathroom fell silent, your mind still spinning from how good it felt. How full you felt. Your breaths coming uneven, and heavy but seamlessly intertwined. His hands softened against you, no longer pinning you to the spot.

“I love you.” He murmured, kissing the back of your neck. When he finally pulled back, he did it gently, giving your shoulder one more kiss before stepping away. You straightened slowly, legs still shaky, catching his eye in the mirror.

“I love you too.”

His hair was a mess, cheeks flushed, shirt somewhere on the floor, tie half-forgotten and dangling from his pocket. He looked like sin and satisfaction all in one—and entirely yours.

“You’re glowing,” he murmured, tugging your dress down over your hips and smoothing it carefully, like he was trying to undo the evidence of what just happened. Even though you both knew you looked and felt, thoroughly ruined.

“We look guilty as hell.” You remarked, dabbing at the lipstick now smeared across your chin. He smirked, using his thumb to wipe away some of the lipstick residue under your lip.

You were just readjusting your dress as Bucky buttoned his shirt back up when a knock came at the door. You both froze.

“Everything ok in there?” A voice called out, sounded like a younger man. Maybe one of the servers.

“Uh- yes. Just cleaning up some spilled wine.” Bucky cleared his throat, trying to hide the crack in his voice.

There was a long pause. Then: “…Right. Well. Party’s winding down.”

“Be right out,” you added, forcing your voice to sound vaguely composed. You both heard the footsteps retreat, looks meeting then bursting into laughter. Bucky just shook his head, grinning as he buttoned up his shirt—crookedly—and grabbed his jacket from the hook.

“I don’t know if I can look anyone in the face right now.” You giggled, attempting to fix your hair, then giving up on it.

“We weren’t very subtle.” He added adjusting his sleeves before offering you his arm.

You pressed your hand to your mouth, stifling a giggle. “Let’s go home before someone starts taking pictures.” He pulled his phone out of the pocket of his jacket, typing on the screen briefly before shoving it in his back pocket.

“Car has been called.” He winked at you, pushing the door open and stepping to the side holding it open..

“You’re such a gentleman.” You remarked, subtly turning over your shoulder to look back at him. “Except when you’re not.”

He smiled that slow, Bucky Barnes smile. Full of boyish charm and bad ideas. And you loved every second of it.

“Let’s go home.” You placed a searing kiss to his lips, letting your hands graze the back of his neck. “Sounds like a perfect plan, Congressman.”

[lara4eclipze]

— 𝓢till into you.

— (🌹) cause even after all this time, I'm still into you.

lara raj x fem reader, swearing, established relationship, angst, small fluff, italics=past events , regret and crying, idol lara, wc [?], tags listed below

months had passed, she's happy now — why aren't you?, isn't it selfish? — that even after all this time you're still into her, to lara, the breakup wasn't one you wanted — it all happened to quickly one minute you two were fighting while she cried, the next you were sobbing begging her not to end it

you and lara weren't the perfect couple, you two had your own differences yet you managed to always end up in eachothers arms, but each time you two fought the more the space between you two grew

it was like a suffocating wall that trapped you and lara, the once perfect and happy dynamic you had built with her now just a glimpse of the past

"i don't know anymore y/n, i-i-" lara hiccups "i can't be with you, its mentally killing me" as the words left her mouth you felt like the world slowly collapsed around you, tears kept falling painting your skin with warmness — you never thought it would end like this

"lara n-no please don't- please my love" you plead and beg, holding her like she was gonna disappear in any second, you bury your head at her neck, sniffling as you smell her, your comfort your home — now just someone who's gonna leave you?

"please don't, I'm nothing without you" you sob into her shoulders, lara's tears had long dried but her heart ached to see you like this, but for one last time she wanted to hold you like she always did

there she was shining so brightly with that sickening smile that always managed to make your heart race, yet this time that same smile was on tv

lara loved singing, and she always made you listen to silly love songs she'd write and compose for you, she talked about wanting to become a professional to share what she created, you'd always encourage her to audition since she had the talent and the compassion about it

you're certainly happy that she has what she dreamed of now, she looks different but she's the same lara you loved, her hair was now red and she has more tattoos, sometimes you wonder if she ever did get your birthday tattoed like she promised

her melodic voice shined through the venue, lara looked happier than ever, she looked as if a child was given candy

journal entry #45

I saw you today, well not in person but it's enough — do you have everything you've ever wanted? — I'm so proud of you I can't believe you are on stage around the world showcasing the talent that once only i saw — i love you to the moon and back

when nights like these came by you always wrote in your journal, lara always told you that bottling up feelings will just worsen them — hell the journal you were using was the one she even bought for you, the pages had darken with time but the same comforting feeling was encapsulated in the paper

you missed her, every passing day, when memories flood your feed, when even the smallest of things remind you of lara, some things just make sense and one of those was you and her

your apartment was cluttered for a few weeks now, its the only way you can move in life, you laugh thinking about how much she scolded you when something was even in the wrong place

so you started cleaning, to somehow become better and move in life to make a difference rather than bedrot and sob

you come across a small and sort of withered box, with a scribbled on label — "for my love" old memories resurface looking at the box, it was the box for your first anniversary — it was covered in dust but when you opened it, it seemed in perfect condition

letters, necklaces and rings — yet what caught your eyes were the polaroids, the memory captured by the lens of an camera, it was the day you two moved in together, boxes cluttered the background but there she was with her gummy smile and messy hair

you felt genuinely better, knowing that she is making others feel happy the way she did with you during your relationship

emotions whirl inside you, regret, sorrow, and most especially love — you loved how she had improved and done what she had always been meant for

maybe in another time lara will also still be into you, maybe there you two could've lasted forever

but for now, you are thankful you had the chance to share your love with her, even if it didn't last longer

[droaxa]

half of the ring

✧ tags: first love x reader, the reader takes too long to admit she’s in love with him and it has consequences

✧ warnings: angst angst angst be ready, betrayal but not really, you cry, friends to lovers to strangers

✧ a/n: really wanted to show you guys my angst skills, started on a plane but then got rlly into it 💗 but fr idk what i was on while making this.

✧ 2.1k words

He was your first love. You had a boyfriend before him but that relationship wasn’t born out of love, hell you didn’t even know if you liked your first boyfriend. The middle school curse of saying yes to dating boys you didn’t really know had gotten to you too, just like many other young girls at school. At an age when you were unsure of what boyfriends and girlfriends even did, you got into your first relationship.

Then you met him. Tall, charming, and somewhat nerdy. He wasn’t anything close to your first boyfriend but you felt strangely attracted to him nonetheless, much to the dismay of your friends who stated that he was ‘a weird loner that no one really liked’. You didn’t care about his obnoxious sports glasses, his long frizzy hair, or his ‘nerdy interests’, to you he was perfect and unapologetically himself.

You broke up with your boyfriend days after meeting him, he made you realize that if you should date anyone, it should be someone that makes you happy. Not someone you feel obligated to.

He was exciting and cool in ways your friends didn’t understand, a diamond in the rough. Before you knew it, months had passed and he moved to your neighborhood.

“The school was better here than in his district” he explained.

You were thrilled of course, who knew what this could bring? Your parents were friends so you met often, but they didn’t allow you both to date so you hid it. Soon, secretive texts and calls turned to meetups and walks in your neighborhood under the guise of being with a ‘friend’. You were with him all the time, if not at school, on the bus, and if not on the bus, around the neighborhood.

Truly the ying to your yang, you were opposites but still had so much in common. While you loved horror movies and he would bury his face in your neck during a jumpscare, squeezing your hand so hard it would turn blue. You would laugh at it his cowardly manner, patting his messy hair as he complained.

You were hopelessly unathletic and he was on the volleyball team. He taught you how to play, laughing as you tried to receive the ball only to have it hit the ground next to you. He never brought up your shortcomings or belittled you, instead helping you become a better version of yourself.

Inseparable. The only way to describe it, atleast until you heard about his reputation first hand. Being ignored by kids at school, shunned for the way he acted and spoke. That’s when you started to become embarrassed of him. Sweet thoughtful him. You heard the whispers about him and didn’t want to be dragged down along with his reputation.

You had been alone long enough, you could still remember those days when you had no one. You didn’t want to be alone again. You were young and dumb, placing social acceptance at a higher priority than him. But it was the pulling away from him that was the hard hardest. You were each others halves but there was something else. Something that young dumb you wouldn’t yet understand.

If his disappointed expression every time you would cancel on him didn’t hurt your heart, the hurt on his face when you would pretend like you didn’t see his wave in the school hallway punched you in the gut. But you managed to make more friends. It would be worth it. Wouldn’t it? You missed him, but you still wanted to have this social power, this freedom.

On the bus home one day a ring you wore broke in half, a silver ring with the emblem of wings. Looking at the two halves you decided to give one half to him on your walk home, his face lighting up as you give him the metal fragment. You would never truly understand the meaning of ring to him. It was a bittersweet moment when you both bid each other goodbye, no hugs or touches. Just a smile.

You saw him was again on the bus, this time your phone chimed with a text. It’s from him.

‘i’m going to kiss you today’

It was a little strange but so hopelessly innocent, he was asking his permission. You felt guilty when he had told you that you were his first anything, first girl he had talked to romantically and now he was hoping first kiss. But you didn’t know if you wanted it. You’d already wasted your first kiss on your first boyfriend, a regret.

You didn’t want to be a regret for him, you didn’t want to face your feelings firsthand either. You knew that this kiss would prove your feelings for him, no more tiptoeing around the bush that you both were doing. You were scared, what if he realized that you weren’t what he wanted. What if you get shunned from being with him?

So you ran. From your feelings, confusion, and most importantly from him. You didn’t kiss him that day, much less look at him.

You didn’t see him around much after that, you heard that he moved out of your neighborhood and into another one. His father had decided they needed a bigger house. You visited him with your family and he led you up to his room, showing you around. On his bookshelf glimmered the half of the ring you gave him, put on display as if it was a piece of art. You smiled as you saw it, you didn't know how much it meant to him.

In a few months, you would move to the same neighborhood. A plan your family had before you had even met him, maybe it was fate or maybe it was just some coincidence.

Your meetups were few and far between then, the next time you saw him was on a school trip to another state. A week where students would be unsupervised, to do whatever they pleased, a recipe for disaster. On the day of the departure, one of your friends had asked you about him before you both had got on the bus to leave. What sport he did, what he was like. You were confused, they’d never asked about him before. Much less without making fun of him.

You shrugged off the strange feeling creeping up on you and told her the basics, she was elated. Then she revealed her true intentions, she was interested. In him. You buffered. What? But you had ever told her what went on between you and him, so it’s not like girl code applied. And for some reason you didn’t want to tell her, he was a loser in the eyes of everyone. If you revealed what really happened, you would be deserted. You had enough of being alone for a lifetime.

You shot her a smile as genuine as you could muster and told her that you’d tell him to think about her. She grinned and thanked you, heading into the bus.

And you did. You did tell him that she would be good for him, that they had so much in common. You could see the disbelief in his eyes, that something like this was coming from someone as special to him as you. You didn’t meet his eyes once, face turned down and words quickly mumbled.

You didn’t know what you were expecting, maybe a romantic display like in the movies where the male lead would refuse and tell the female lead he only wanted her. Maybe you wanted him to grab you and shake some sense into you, remind you of what mattered and what he was to you.

You hated yourself for it, you didn’t want him to go, to leave you. But you were conflicted and stupid, unable to see the true value of what you were giving up. After he nodded at your suggestion, he walked off without a word. Maybe you didn’t deserve him anyway. You warded the tears off as you walked in the other direction.

You didn’t know that he would take the suggestion seriously, to get back at you or to get over you, you didn’t know. You'd deluded yourself into thinking that he would come back, you mattered enough to him, right? You didn't see or talk to him for two whole days, and honestly, you were ripping out your hair in frustration.

Finally, you'd see him when your group was visiting a landmark in the city you were in. It was supposed to be a normal day of the usual activities, sightseeing and such. But then you saw them both. Together. Maybe they’d started talking after you suggested it or maybe she’d come up to him, you didn’t even want to think he went up to her on his own accord.

It hurt in ways you thought unimaginable, why was it so easy for her? People did snicker at them and laugh sometimes but she was with him all day, not a hint of embarrassment on her face. They both laughed and whispered to each other, about what? You didn't know, you weren't sure you wanted to. But this wasn't fair, that should’ve been you. You tear your eyes away from the scene, you should've been stronger, been more resilient. Had you lost him already?

On the last day of the trip, you finally faced the truth that this wasn’t anything close to what you wanted. You knew that he deserved better, but with him by your side you could be better, for him. All you needed was him. You could deal with the gossip and public shunning if he was by your side.

You decide to talk to him on the last day of your trip, striding towards him as he faces the opposite direction, observing the artwork on the urban brick wall. Before you can even get close to him, she appears. Hair flowing behind her as confident strides bring her every bit closer to him. There's a bright smile on her face as she pulls him to face her, and he smiles back. Why does he smile back? Months of late-night talking, laughing, and understanding can’t be undone in a week right? Your heart stutters as you see him smile, a real smile. Not the melancholic one he’d give you when you said you couldn’t meet or talk to him, a real smile from his heart.

Then he leans in, he leans in first, and presses his lips against hers. A strong hand on her back to steady her as they share an innocent kiss, nothing more than lips pressed against each other. You stare at them, shock rendering your body immobile as they pull apart. Faint smiles are still present as they look at each other, and a glimmer in his eyes that you had stopped seeing a while ago returns.

You can’t stop the tears that fall down your face, apology you were planning to give him dampened and forgotten. You step back, you were too late. Far too late.

Turning around, you try to wipe the tears as they fall. You were really stupid huh? Took too long to decide and he finally realized that he deserved better, and she was his better apparently. But that kiss was supposed to be yours, it was your kiss. He was supposed to be yours, you were the one with him before anyone else. It was selfish, but if only. If only.

‘But you chased him away didn’t you?’ a voice whispered. You stopped. You were the one that forced him into the arms of another, why did you deserve to cry? You couldn’t help but wonder, did he think about you? Did he think about those late nights when you both would text like you were each other's lifelines? Maybe he would still be with you now, if you tried harder, if you ignored the others, if you saw all that mattered. He was what mattered.

But sometimes, doubt, a moment of hesitation was all it took to ruin everything that is and can be. All you had now were questions. The what ifs and maybes. The half of the ring, without knowing if he kept his.

a/n: well thats all guys :)) i'm gonna write a part two for this who knows how it'll go

[azullumi]

“i think i like this little life” ; genshin men

summary — small things and simple moments with him that makes life worth living.

includes — various characters (w/gender-neutral reader)

tags — fluff, established relationship, kind of domestic, not proof-read, kind of word vomit ; scenarios

words — 1336

notes — i was originally going to add like a watching him get ready scenario thingy but then i changed my mind,, anws i feel like i wrote everyone too soft here haha

;; spending the morning together

honey-dyed light slips through the thin drapery over the window as the distant shrunken circle of golden rises to the sky portraying the morning that comes. the birds sing a gentle tune outside, serving as some sort of alarm that wakes him up, eyes fluttering open to the sight of the familiar ceiling, the feeling of warmth beside him.

although the dawn’s early night was never a pleasant welcome to him as it only indicates the things that he has to do and have to do for the remainder of the day, anticipation comes at the mere thought that he’ll get to start and spend it with you—everything becomes a little bit better like a weight on his shoulder has been lifted.

in the stillness and silence of the morning, there you are besides him; his gaze lingers at your sleeping form—tranquility seen on the edges and corners of your being—, eyes deep and swirling with feelings of affection; he doesn’t even know how soft his expression becomes whenever he looks at you until someone would inform him of it. strands of your hair were tangled and messy, some of it obstructing your face as it fell over your forehead, and the feeble light shines itself on your skin, basking you in a warm golden glow. everything feels like scenery, something out of a claude monet painting. how did he ever become so lucky to have someone as lovely and wonderful as you in his life?

the moment doesn’t last forever, however. as if a fleeting one, a groan was heard from you and you stir yourself awake.

“good morning, lovely. did you sleep well?” his voice, tender and filled with affection, pierces through the gentle silence of the room. he presses a small kiss on your forehead as he greets you, brushing the strands of your hair back as he did. you slowly blink your eyes open, the sight of him greeting you and immediately, a small smile graces your lips. “good morning.” you reply and having just woken up, your words came out as a whisper only for him to hear.

“do you want to get out of bed?” you only shook your head as an answer, snuggling closer to him. face buried on the curve of his neck, you inhale his scent—faintly cloying yet pleasant. he laughs shortly, “we can stay in for a little bit more then.”

for him, the thought of waking up with you to the soft glow of morning outweighs every trace of his not-so-morning-person personality; he’s not a morning person but if he gets to spend every morning under this light with you, he wouldn’t mind it.

ayato, diluc, dainsleif, heizhou, kaeya, baizhu, kaveh

;; watching everything outside the window

it was just a small thing that you would do together, mostly when one of you is bored. sitting by the window, looking out of it, watching every person that passes by, and creating some sort of story behind them—a not-so-true reason behind the passing strangers’ actions. it’s really just a simple way to pass time and to entertain yourself and you love it, especially when you’re doing it with him.

“do you see that man over there?” you start, referring to the man on the street who seems like in a rush, and his gaze follows the mentioned person. “he’s walking—no, wait, he’s running because he’s on the way to meet someone.”

instead of a mere indulgence in gossip or prying into the affairs of others, it transforms into a serene narrative, delicately unwinding the threads of each moment that passes—people watching, the art of noticing. everything felt like a movie with each of the scenes unfolding before you.

he takes a sip from the cup that he was holding, eyes showing a hint of interest. “perhaps he’s on the way to meet the love of his life.” he chimes, his gaze then darting over at the sight of a woman with their dog. “how about them?”

you hum, “maybe on the way to the vet?”

“sounds like a plausible reason.”

the moment stills, the both of you quietly observing and noticing everything outside—like how the plant displayed outside the window of the shop was a different one compared to yesterday or how the cat across the street always sits and waits on that one spot until an old lady comes to feed them. in essence, yesterday was different to today; in a way that yesterday, there were less people than today or that yesterday, the sun whispered its golden tales to you as to today, it wears a different hue as clouds gather in quiet conversations.

“oh, look there, the cat has a companion.” you say, breaking the hushed moment being shared between you two, tone with a faint of excitement in it as your eyes flickered with the same note. “do you think they’re a couple?”

“they look alike, perhaps siblings.”

“that’s silly, you know a lot of cats look alike.”

and yet, despite all the small shifts and subtle differences painted on his moment before and currently, his yesterday was no different than his today, perhaps it was because you were there with him. many people experience today in a different way and for him, he experienced today with you—and he could only silently hope that it remains that way forever.

kaveh, alhaitham, baizhu, wanderer, lyney, heizhou, childe

;; making plans to spend more time together

there’s just something so intimate in doing things together even if it’s just as mundane as making plans together, to see if one has time for the other on a certain day so that you can have a small date with him or to see if he could accompany you out shopping. perhaps, it is one way of saying that the time you have right now is not enough, never enough, and you can’t wait to see spend time with each other again even if the two of you are right there besides each other currently—a shared anticipation that whispers of the inadequacy of the present moment, always leaving you yearning for more time in each other's company.

“do you want to go out tomorrow morning?” he asks you, his voice gentle like the soft beating of his heart against your ear. you lay besides him while your head is resting on top of his chest and he has his arm encircled around your figure which urges you to nestle into the curve of it; your forms were intertwined with one another in bed, his fingers going from tracing the delicate of your back to playing the strands of your hair, twirling and combing through it.

“to where are we going?” you answer, head tilting up to look at him and his eyes meet yours in that moment, a soft gaze full of adoration for you and only you. he hums, as if going into thought, “there’s a newly opened cafe down the street, do you want to have breakfast there or do you want to have it here instead? we can cook something together. which one sounds more appealing to you?”

he gives you a set of choices, giving you the freedom for your own comfort and desire—something that you greatly appreciate. you’ve contemplated on your decision, taking just a few seconds to do so: “the former.”

“in a cafe?”

“yeah, i feel like going out tomorrow. can we wake up early so that we could, like, take a walk and go to the park?” he doesn’t give it a second thought, nodding and agreeing to what you have asked: “i don’t mind. maybe we can have a picnic there?”

“next time we can.” you answer in which he responded with a hum. silence then settles in the air between you two yet it doesn’t last long as he spoke once more: “can you move closer? it feels like you’re not that close enough for me.” he says, earning a chuckle from you.

albedo, thoma, tighnari, zhongli, dainsleif, lyney, cyno

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[woantohae]

Somebody to you || (Brandon Sklenar au! x reader)

Summary: Brandon and Y/N had been neighbors for a long time. From time to time, he would help her fix things in her apartment, while she would make him meals, claiming to have overcooked. There's a growing tension between them, with every glance, laugh, and moment together, becoming someone important to each other.

Author's note: Hello! This is new, I know, but I find Brandon Sklenar atracttive, and his voice even more so. In fact, I had a dream about him last night where he was a police officer, which is why I was inspired to write this story. I hope you enjoy it, and I'll obviously continue writing about Bob Reynolds in the future. 👀

《tags: fluff, tension between the reader and brandon, police officer brandon au!, make out, hints of smut, sexual tension》

Y/N was trying so hard to not to drop the bags in her arms as she dug her keys out of her purse.

"Shit," she cursed in an exasperated tone.

She spent a few more seconds struggling to hold on to the bags until she felt someone's presence behind her. A deep, raspy voice interrupted her, causing her to jump slightly.

"Do you need help with that?"

She turns around and finds Brandon —her incredible good looking neighbour and who she happens to have a crush on— smiling, which she instantly mirrors, also noticing that he's wearing his police uniform.

"Is it obvious?" she asks, letting out a small laugh.

Brandon laughs and proceeds to take the bags from her hands to let her open the door calmly. The man can't help but stare at how beautiful she looks in the dress she's wearing and her hair, a bit disheveled from the effort of struggling with the supermarket shopping bags.

He thinks she always looks pretty, with whatever she's wearing. Whenever they passed each other in the hallway or left their houses at the same time, he would take the time to linger at her for a long moment before moving on with his day, the image of her in his head. By now, he thought he was being too obvious whenever he was around her, but she didn't seem to noticed. Or maybe she also thought she was the one being obvious around the blue-eyed man and how she felt for him.

She opens the door and enters, letting Brandon follow her. As Y/N closes the door, Brandon carefully places the bags on the kitchen counter.

"Thank you so much, Brandon," she thanks him with a smile, going to his side to start unpacking the groceries.

"I hope you don't mind having to come help me again," she says in an amused tone, raising an eyebrow.

Brandon shakes his head, laughing.

"Not at all, Y/N. We're neighbors after all," he replies, placing his hands on her waist. "Besides, I wouldn't be doing my job as a police officer otherwise".

The girl smiles and nods, following his joke. They both remain in a pleasant silence for a few seconds before she looks back at him.

"I guess I should thank you in return. It's the most logical thing I could do," she says, placing her hands behind her back. Before he can tell her it's not necessary, she steps forward. "I won't take no for an answer. I'll make some pasta, and let me tell you, it's pretty darn good."

Brandon looks at her amusedly and crosses his arms.

"Only if you let me help you cook it."

"Okay," she agrees.

Y/N moves confidently and excitedly around the kitchen as she feels Brandon's gaze on her. She starts washing her hands and then grabbing the vegetables, and the man positions himself next to her to roll up his sleeves and wash his hands as well. Then he looks down at his uniform, thinking that he could stain it so easily.

"Is it okay if I take off my uniform top?" he asks the girl. "I know myself, and I can be pretty messy when it comes to cooking."

Y/N waves her hand dismissively.

"It's okay. Whatever you feel comfortable with."

Brandon steps back a bit to remove the belt that carries his flashlight, his gun, and his work radio, then continues with his dark shirt, leaving him in his white tank top. While he leaves his things organized on the couch a few steps from the kitchen, Y/N continues chopping the vegetables to start making the tomato sauce.

"So, should I peel the tomatoes?" he asks, returning to the girl's side.

Y/N looks at him this time, and when she notices his bare, hairy arms, she's speechless. Brandon looks at her with a raised eyebrow and a tomato in his hand, slightly amused by her reaction.

"Uh, yeah, yeah. Let's peel the tomatoes, yeah," she says, suddenly feeling shy.

She blushes, and her heart suddenly races at his proximity. They converse while preparing the pasta, both aware of how domestic the situation feels.

Between laughter and jokes, the meal is almost ready. Brandon takes care of setting the plates and cutlery on the table, while Y/N finishes tasting the tomato sauce.

"The table is set," he announces.

"Just in time," she offers him a spoonful of sauce to taste. "Try it. Does it need anything?"

Y/N blows on the spoon and brings it to Brandon's mouth, who gladly accepts it, having seen the girl taste it with her lips before. He tastes on it, staring directly into her eyes, feeling the tension grow with the action. Y/N licks her lips and feels a tingle in her lower stomach.

"It's perfect," he replies.

She smiles.

After that moment, they sat down at the table to start eating the pasta. They were definitely a good duo, because the food they had prepared was delicious.

The atmosphere felt so warm and pleasant that neither of them wanted it to end, so when they finished their plates, they both sat on the girl's sofa to chat for a while with a glass of wine in hand.

"Best pasta I've had in a while," the man says, sipping from his glass.

Y/N raises an eyebrow.

"Oh, so it's not the best you've ever had?" she jokes.

Brandon shakes his head, listening to the soft melody of the girl's laughter next to him, wanting to keep making her make that sound, because it become one of his favorites.

"Honestly, I'd say my mom makes the best one, so..." he says.

"It's understandable then," the girl agrees, placing her glass on the small table to make herself more comfortable on the couch.

In a careful move, she pulls her legs up onto the couch and sits down, folding them under her own thighs. Then, she rests her elbow on the couch cushion and looks directly at Brandon to continue chatting. What she doesn't notice is that her dress has ridden up a bit above her thighs, revealing more skin than she already was, causing Brandon to gulp down his drink and set it on the table, avoiding straying his eyes to her thighs. He can't make her uncomfortable or watch her like that; they're nothing.

But great God, he wanted to run his fingers over her skin, as if it were the canvas and his fingers were the brush.

"I know I've already asked you, but are you scared of being a cop sometimes?" she asks him in a soft, concerned tone.

He grimaces and mimics the position of her arm on the couch, their bodies suddenly facing each other.

"Most of the time, yes," he replies. "Especially since we're in New York and there are quite a few crazy people roaming the streets and subways."

She laughs and shakes her head.

"But you like being one," she says affirmatively.

"I like to think I'm helping others, even if it's in a small way," he continues.

"Like when you help me with the bags, or fix the plumbing, for example" She starts counting on her fingers, and he laughs.

"Exactly," his voice is low now. "Even if I had to do it a thousand more times, I would."

Y/N feels her cheeks flush and plays with her fingers, resisting the urge to run them over the muscles of his arms. Their attraction to each other is undeniable, but they're afraid it won't be reciprocated. Brandon wants to make a gesture or say something that might show how he feels about the girl, but he'd hate to make her feel uncomfortable and lose the friendship they have. Or the special relationship they have as neighbors.

"Although, there's one thing about the job I don't like," he ventures, testing the waters to finally give her a hint of what he feels.

"Oh, really? And what is it?" she asks, interested.

Brandon looks down for a brief moment and meets her gaze again, stretching his arm across the back of the couch until he's just a few inches from her arm, feeling a tingling sensation in his fingers at the small distance.

"Having to finish the day and return to the apartment," he says.

She frowns, not understanding the idea.

"That should be your favorite part. I mean, you go back home and can rest all you want, without anyone bothering you, right?" she says in a sweet tone.

He smiles and shakes his head, feeling the urge to reach out and stroke her arm.

"It's just that, uh.... when I get there, I do want someone to bother me," he says, and Y/N looks at him, still not fully understanding.

"I want someone to bother me about bringing bread for dinner, or bothering me about carrying the bags, or bothering me if there's a spider and I have to take care of getting rid of it."

Y/N settles into her seat as she begins to process the information and finally realizes what he's talking about. She bites the inside of her cheek and notices how Brandon's gaze never leaves hers.

"Brandon..." she begins, "What exactly do you mean by that?"

She might have an idea, but she needed confirmation from him.

"By that I mean, I'd like to come home and know you'll be there at the end of the day. Knowing we can cook dinner together, knowing I can hug you all I want, and hold you in my arms at night. Or all day, if necessary."

He points out, briefly lowering his gaze to the girl's lips.

"I have feelings for you, Y/N. I've had them for a while now, but I didn't say anything because I didn't want to lose our friendship. I couldn't accept that what we had would end just because I feel this way about you." he admits, wetting his lips.

The girl's heart races, and she's about to do something crazy.

"Since when have you felt this way?" she asks.

Brandon smiles slightly. "Pretty much since I met you."

She smiles and lets out a nervous laugh.

"I've felt that way about you too."

Brandon is relieved and takes a deep breath, making her laugh at his action. He dares to place his rough hand on her cheek, to which Y/N ​​leans a little closer to the touch.

"You have no idea how relieved and happy I am to know you feel the same way. I didn't want to lose you because of how awkward it would be if it wasn't reciprocated."

"Well, you know now, don't you?"

Brandon nods and moves his body closer to hers.

"Can I kiss you now?" Y/N nods, looking at his lips.

Brandon closes the gap between them and connects his lips with hers, feeling how soft they are. With one of his hands, he pulls her towards him to confirm that this isn't a dream, and she places her hand on his chest. The heat of the moment makes them accelerate their kisses, becoming passionate and letting themselves be carried away by what they feel. Brandon hugs Y/N close to his body and lies down on the couch when he feels her sit on top of him, feeling the body-to-body contact.

Their lips are in a constant dance and they have no desire to separate, but feeling the lack of oxygen, they distance themselves a little to catch their breath and continue their make-out session. Brandon ventures to run his hands down her thighs, feeling how her dress has ridden up more than necessary, so in a gentlemanly and subtle move, he pulls it down for her. As much as he wants to continue beyond the kisses, he wants to wait for her until she's ready.

"What a gentleman," she murmurs, amused, against his lips.

Brandon lets out a husky laugh and cups her cheek to pull her back to him.

"I want to go slow with you, and when the time is right, enjoy it properly."

Y/N nods and returns her lips to his, becoming addicted to the taste of his kisses.

They remain immersed in the heat of the moment, exploring every corner of the girl's body with his hands, feeling her grow closer to him due to the contact and friction of their movements.

The blissful moment doesn't last long, as Brandon's cell phone rings, interrupting their kiss.

"For God's sake" he curses.

Y/N pulls away, licking her lips while laughing.

Brandon laughs and reaches for the phone, still holding onto her waist with his other arm. Brandon responds, caressing her waist, while Y/N rests her head on his chest, stroking his hairy chest with her nails, visible through the man's white muscle shirt.

When the call ends, Brandon puts his phone aside and wraps his arms around her waist again.

"Is everything okay?" she asks.

He nods.

"Everything's fine."

Y/N smiles and kisses him again, feeling his smile on her lips.

[donatellarose]

— predator

Astarion x f!reader

rated e - 927 words

tags: fluff / maybe a touch of angst , established romantic relationship, cursed book sends him into a frenzy where he only wants you

prompt: A mix of quotes and moments from everyone's cards from the Tomorrow's catch 22 event from Love and Deepspace. Think when the Praedetor enters a frenzy. (This is self indulgent, sorry not sorry)

dividers: saradika graphics

A cursed tome unleashes the beast within.

"Ugh. Today drained me. Then killed me. Then did a jig on my grave"

You mutter as you throw yourself onto your bedroll. Fighting giant spiders who seemed to phase around their webs had not been the plan. It seemed like just when one of your party had been freed from a spider web, either Gale, Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Karlach, Wyll or Astarion was promptly getting stuck. Or poisoned.

It had been worth it. Gale got a new robe, Wyll had new boots and you'd found the amethyst gems that slotted into that tome you'd discovered in the cellar underneath the blighted village. Though it seemed cursed, Astarion had held onto it.

Come to think of it, Astarion had been acting a bit off since he'd started reading the book. His eyes were still red, his curls a bit messy. He was still your partner who you cared for. Nevertheless, your gaze raked over his form as he entered the tent you shared.

"Fascinated by my outfit? Is it the belt you're eyeing... or the buckles?"

His lips quirked up into a smirk at his sly words as he sauntered over to kneel beside where you sat. A soft touch from his hand grazed the bandage on your arm from where a spider's pincer had drawn blood. Astarion quickly frowned.

"Who hurt you? Never mind, I'll make sure all of them suffer the consequences."

"Astarion. They're dead. We already remedied it."

You quickly reassured him, reaching out to tuck a lock of hair behind his ears. Gently caressing the point of his elven features, he leaned into the touch like a cat. Even his voice was almost like a purr.

"My little bird, all grown up. It seems your wings are getting stronger with each passing day."

A noncommittal hum resonates in your chest as you study him. Something in his gaze seemed to heat up, as if your very presence stoked a flame in him. He picked up on your studious gaze, a chuckle filling the silence of the night.

"Ah, so it's like that I see? What do you think I'm going to do *

His cold fingers dart out and he pinches the bridge of your nose. After batting his hand away, something dark seems to radiate from the point of contact. Something possessive and twisted. Something with a desire to claim.

You frown, quickly realizing this isn't your Astarion. Before you can pull away, he catches your wrist. Every mannerism of his has changed, a predator hunting his prey. Which was you.

"Let me take what I desire first."

"Are you going to kiss me or kill me?"

You try to eased the rapidly rising tension with a joke. But his gaze darkens even more, his tongue flicking idly over one of his fangs.

"How does the third option sound? You can live. But only if you become a vampire like me. That way, we'll be the same."

Still as a statue, you can only watch as the the back of his hand brushes against your neck. His free hand slid around you to your right shoulder blade to trace a path down your spine.

"All it would take is one bite. Right here. I'll keep you by my side...by any means necessary."

You try to move, but he locks you in place with his frame. Kicking out, you managed to knock over a wooden bucket with a loud clang that echoes through the camp. A sharp pain suddenly derails your train of thought. Astarion has bitten your ear, a searing pain throbs at the wound. You yelp in surprise before the noise is quickly muffled by his hand.

As if your prayer to whatever deity might be listening is answered, your companions appear at your tent having been drawn by the chaotic sounds of a struggle. Astarion's voice was low in your ear.

"Looks like your friends want us to die together. It's sort of romantic being star-crossed lovers."

"They're your friends too!"

Just as his head lowers down to the tender spot where your neck meets your shoulder, everything seems to happen at once. Lae'zel yanks Astarion off of you and pulls you over her shoulder before moving outside where Wyll and Karlach wait. You hear Gale cast "Hold Person" while Shadowheart works to remove the curse.

Sitting on one of the logs by the dying fire, you gingerly touch your ear. Wyll softly guides your touch away before using a damp cloth to try to stop the bleeding as Karlach hunts for a healing potion. When Gale and Shadowheart exit your tent, you quickly try to get up only for Wyll's hand on your shoulder to stop your movement.

"Is Astarion alright? It's the book isn't it. I knew we shouldn't have taken it."

"He's fine. Just sleeping it off at the moment. Your throat should be safe from his love bites."

Gale smiles, but it barely meets his eyes as his concern for you and what happened overshadows the listless humor. Quickly murmuring your gratitude to everyone, you make your way into your tent.

Astarion rests on your bedroll, looking almost celestial in how his curls frame his peaceful face. Cautiously easing down to lay beside him, you tug a nearby blanket over the pair of you. He starts to stir as apologies pour from his lips, but you quickly shush him before carding your fingers through his hair to lull him back into his slumber.

"I'll be there for you anytime you need me. I promise, my sweet, little star."

[isabeauwolf]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five of your other fave writers. Spread the self-love! 💕💕💕💕❤️

Thanks @tzimiscequeen-blog for the shout out. The majority of my fics have NSFW/angst/ canon x reader and my MHA OC x canon character content! I always try to balance fluff and spice in my fanfics no matter what universe I'm working on.

The chapter titles are marked as such as a heads up. I also include some dark and spicy content in some, so before reading, please read the Warnings and AO3 tags carefully.

I'm still getting the hang of writing reader x canon, so bear with the typo's and such, please and thank you!

1. Dabi x Mary x Overhaul (The Crow AU) 🐦‍⬛ - Dark Angel Prologue (18+)

October 30th, The Night before their wedding, Touya and his fiancée Mary met a tragic accident.

A year later, a crow raises Touya from his grave. Touya becomes Dabi, The Dark Angel of vengeance. His soul couldn't rest until he set the wrongs done to him and his love right. For One Night.

Kai Chisaki, Overhaul. Japan's most feared and powerful Yazkua, The Shie Hassaikai. He has money, status and now needs his queen. Hades needs his Persephone. He'd do anything and everything in his power to keep her. His goddess, his love. Mary.

Mary gave up her Title as heiress to her grandfathers yakuza clan, and her alias as Silver, The Assassin. To be with her beloved Touya. All shadows can't stay locked up forever. After rejecting her arranged marriage to Overhaul when he calls... this get messy.

Dabi falls further into madness and revenge in her name. Overhaul's obsession and possessiveness towards his angel is limitless.

(Based off The Crow 1994 movie, with changes) Dark MHA Edition. Overhaul x Mary(My MHA OC) x Dabi AU

2. Trafalgar Law x Pregnant reader: Chapter 1 - Coffee and Confessions (My first Law fanfic in forever! I'm still trying to get used to writing for our snow leopard after a long time)

You give Trafalgar Law his morning coffee every day, or during a late night shift. Both of you are secretly crushing on each other hard.

Instead of telling Dr Heart Stealer you feelings, you decided to have a one night stand with someone else. Only to turn out pregnant 6 weeks later!

What's more you ask Law to become your doctor! Juggling being a single, pregnant woman while desperately in love with Dr Grumpy Law, motherhood, your job and everything in between!

Can Law win your heart before your baby daddy finds out?

3. Incubus Dabi x Plus Size reader Part 1 - Tainted Love and Burning Desire (18+)

Night after night, you've been plagued with dreams of a demon with white hair, horns, wings, forked tail and the most sinfully, soul shattering blue eyes. Maybe being single for the last two years was getting to your head? With only your smutty book boyfriends and toy to get off.

His blue eyes reminds you of your moody, brooding savior Dabi from rude, douchbag customers. Your crush. The black haired model with piercings.

Dabi's got a secret. He's obsessed with you. The cute Barista with a sweet smile, sass and the most gorgeous curves he's ever seen. A plus size goddess. He loves your body, extra pounds, thick thighs and all. You make him feral, needy and crave you. When you ask him for a date, he says yes.

When you two touch, you see your dream demon, soft white hair, black horns, wings and his intense azure blues as he's growling, moaning and feasting between your legs. You start putting it together that Dabi might be your dream demon.

A simple date with Dabi becomes sinful, heated, passionate and carnal as this Incubus shows you heavenly pleasures and love burning hotter and brighter than his blue hellflames.

4. Queen Reader x Courtesan Overhaul: In Chains (18+)

Overhaul, Kai Chisaki has been captured after his guilds disbanded.

Instead of losing his arms, he's being sold into slavery in The Underground black market. This proud, arrogant and powerful man now bound in leather and chains, muzzled, half naked, seething and left quirkless with a quirk restraining collar around his neck.

The news spread like wild fire.

As your kingdoms Queen, you want him. You want Kai Chisaki. Your one winged raven. He's your obsession, you want to ruin him, your twisted love would make you go to war for this man.

He expected to be thrown into servitude as some lowly servant or chore boy, but the young ex-yakuza was both intrigued and confused as to why he was being dragged towards the Queen's Castle? His heart thudded hard in his chest. It... it couldn't have been you, could it? Who had saved him? He told himself not to get too excited. What would you want with him? A criminal. Well, Ex-Criminal.

He had nothing to offer you. No lands, no money, no gifts, only himself. The one woman he wanted but could never have. You.

5. Ex Dabi x reader x Hawks - My World (18+)

Dabi thought you were his whole world, until Hawks stole you away. The fire user can't let go. Will you?

Hawks was supposed to get close to you to get close to Dabi, his key into The League. Our Winged Hero falls for you, hard and fast.

Going back to being a Civilian after quieting being a Villain, The Leagues Information Broker isn't easy.

Hawks. Your shining sun, your red winged Icarus. Pulling your towards the light and soaring to new heights despite your fears. Dabi. Your deadly handsome devil, surrounded by azure blue hellfire, dead bodies and a curl on his lips.

It's a dangerous game.

Dabi would burn the world down for you. Hawks wants to keep you in his nest, his mate.

Feel free to reach out to me here if you have any questions about my fics! I've got many ideas and drafts/fanfics saved up for future chapters! Some more than others.

Thank you for your patience and understanding, my lovelies! Anyone newly following me or have been my moot for a while knows, I never, ever shut up about Overhaul, Dabi, and Law mostly! Or any of my other fictional anime husbands!

No pressure tags: @fairymama624 @doumadono @turtletaubwrites @pandora-writes-one-piece @inorganicone2230

[nuoyipeach]

Off-Cam

Kang Seulgi X Lee Taeyong

requested warnings: none? tags: : @gerardeveryway @gomseulgiii @innssanityyy @seulyongggi

"Welcome to Speed Date Life! I am the director for the show, and I'll explain to you the process with my assistant here."

Seulgi rolled her eyes as she stood amongst the crowd of five other women, sitting opposite the five male participants. Why her mother signed her up for a dating show was an impossible question to her.

"You're so focused on earning money, I had no choice. I'd like to see my only daughter have a family please."

Her thoughts were snapped back when the director continued. "So we've gone through all your profiles as well as what your preferences are, and will be pairing you all as closely as possible. To avoid any mishaps we also had an actual matchmaker help us with the pairing."

She watched as the man pulled out 5 folders and opened one by one. "I'll call out the couples right now, but you will be introduced to each other when we start filming tomorrow. This is just so you know beforehand."

Seulgi watched as he opened a folder and passed it to his assistant. "Please raise your hand so your partner knows you. Jung Jaehyun and Kim Yerim." Two people raised their hands, smiling at each other as they bowed their heads slightly. "Johnny Seo and Bae Joohyun." Another pair raised their hands.

"Lee Taeyong and Kang Seulgi." Seulgi raised her hand, then looked at her male counterpart. The man smiled and bowed his head slightly at her, which she returned before looking back to the front, listening to the final two pairings.

Mark Lee and Ko Eun

Nakamoto Yuta and Park Sooyoung

"So the idea is for the first week you will meet daily, warm up and get to know each other. On week two we will put a couple together in one house, rooms will be separate. From there onwards you can progress as you like, hopefully we'll get some actual results out of you all." The director teased before continuing. "Also remember you all have signed and consented to this idea beforehand as well, but we won't be pushing you or preventing you from doing anything after the first week. And if you do decide to drop out, we will take your issue into consideration. Any questions?"

Seulgi raised her hand almost immediately, and the director signalled her to ask. "Even if we're not sharing rooms, will we have our privacy from cameras? Because if not, I don't see the point of separate rooms." she raised an eyebrow asking.

The assistant was quick to wave her hand. "Oh no no, don't worry. The houses will have cameras, except for your bedrooms and bathrooms. It's only the common spaces that will be televised, like the living room, kitchen, dining, etcetera. Your mics will be on you all times, but during bedtime or in the bathroom you can switch off or remove when sleeping."

After a few more chats, the meeting ended, and Seulgi was quick to dash home. She crashed onto her bed and stared up at the ceiling, sighing at the thought of two things.

Tomorrow she'll start dating someone.

Tomorrow she'll become a TV personality.

>>>

The day came for Seulgi's first date with her paired up man, Lee Taeyong. During the introduction recording, the most she could see he had in common with her was that they both loved music and dancing. While she worked as a nurse at a private hospital, he was a primary school teacher as he claimed he loved kids, while also volunteering weekends at an orphanage to teach art.

It's almost like they had completely opposite lives, and Seulgi wondered how would this ever work out. Sure they had the two common interests, but was that really enough?

She checked herself one last time as the car came to a stop in front of the cafe they were to meet in, making sure her outfit dusted and hair wasn't messy. She stepped out, startled a little as she realised a camera was focused on her outside, and smiled with a quick bow before going inside. She followed where she assumed he'd be, noticing another two cameramen near a table by the window.

Taeyong sat fumbling his hands on the table, as if to show he was nervous, she wondered if that was his real actions or simply for the cameras. As she came closer he stood up and they greeted each other, when he suddenly moved to her side and pulled out the chair for her. She stood startled again and smiled, though she still wondered if that was real.

"So..." he spoke up as he sat, chuckling nervously. "How do we go about this? I'm not exactly good with dating."

Seulgi raised her eyebrows, letting out a laugh before responding. "I'm not exactly experienced myself to be honest. This would be my first time dating officially."

The two shared a short laugh, a moment the director signalled the camera men to get clearer shots of. Soon enough the barrier was lifted as Taeyong started talking more about himself first, always making sure to get her involved in between. She noted this action of his, and it made her smile that he wasn't simply going on and on about himself.

So he's not narcissistic, good...

In turn she spoke about her life, and tried to keep it as interactive as he did. However at one point she noticed he simply kept quiet and let her babble on about something she didn't like, though his eyes were on her with a small smile so she knew he was paying attention. Once she finished he nodded and empathised with her, another thing that really caught her attention.

"Do you wanna maybe go for a walk, continue the date?" Taeyong asked once she was finished talking, and she noticed they had finished their coffees. "I know a nice spot we can sit and have a picnic. There's food there too." his eyes glimmered, then suddenly switched to nervous. "Oh, unless you prefer indoors, then there's a nice restaurant nearby too."

Seulgi chuckled, finding his ramble too cute. Unconsciously she reached to hold his hand in comfort. "The picnic sounds nice."

>>>

The first week went well, to Seulgi at least. She didn't feel awkward around Taeyong or get any weird vibes from him. He was nice, soft spoken, funny, polite, a gentleman overall. He also seemed very put together in his life, albeit a little clumsy like when his canned soda exploded and got on both of them, but Seulgi was more amused than angry at the way didn't realise he had been shaking it.

The time came for the couples to move in together. Seulgi was nervous despite being comfortable around Taeyong, because if there's one thing she knew is that one's true self always appears when living together. She sat in the car readying herself one last time before stepping out, greeting the camera as usual, before getting her bags out and going into the airbnb the show had rented out for her and Taeyong.

Just as she reached the front door, it opened showing a smiley Taeyong, who immediately grabbed her luggage from her and leading her inside. "Welcome home." he greeted as if they were already living together, it made her smile at his fun manner. But she wasn't gonna let her guard down this easily. "There's three rooms here, two are our bedrooms. They're pretty much the same but I figured you'd come and pick one first? I'm kinda indecisive."

She stared at him scratching his head, then peeked at the two bedrooms. They were pretty similar, just a matter of front and backyard view difference. After a little thinking, she nodded and went in to the room looking over the backyard, Taeyong following behind with her luggage.

"I'll take this one."

"Great, I'll move in across then." he smiled before leaving the room, closing the door behind him. Seulgi sighed, plopping her body onto the bed and staring up at the ceiling feeling overwhelmed. She suddenly wondered if all of this is a good idea. She's just signed up to live in a house alone with a man she only just met for another what, three weeks? And while they're on camera most of the time, what if he does something to her?

That night, as the cameras were shut off and their mics taken back, Seulgi shut her door and sat in her room in silence. She was considering going to bed early, when a knock came on the door.

"Hey, sorry to disturb you... uhm, I noticed you didn't eat dinner properly because of the cameras, so I saved you some food for later."

He noticed? Seulgi had felt a little insecure to eat in a home-like setting with cameras surrounding her, so much that she only took small portions and ate unnaturally. She didn't think it was that unnatural that she'd be obvious.

She rushed to the door and opened it. "Oh my God, do you think people will notice that?" her immediate words to him as Taeyong stood puzzled.

"Notice what?"

"That I was eating for the camera? It's not like I'm trying to show off I'm healthy or anything, I just felt weird with the cameras there..."

Taeyong smiled and held her shoulder to stop her rambling on. "It didn't look that bad, and I doubt they'll use our first dinner footage considering we barely spoke." he chuckled, albeit a little awkwardly. "But I noticed you didn't eat properly, and they're all gone now, so come down and finish it off. I was craving a little dessert too, heard there's ice cream in the fridge." he left with a smile, leaving Seulgi's heart to flutter.

Stop it, you barely know him...

Sighing she followed behind, and saw how he had plated a new plate of food for her, and two empty dessert cups next to it for the said later ice cream. Seulgi had never felt this touched by a man before. One of the reasons she never dated was because of the things she saw her friends go through, although some did end up with their supposed forever lovers now, there was a lot of trial and error they had gone through.

Stop it, stop it...

She sat opposite to him on the small dining table and started to eat while watching him in the kitchen preparing them drinks. He got some lemonade out for them and gave her a glass. "I hope this is OK, I noticed you don't drink alcohol much, so I got this instead." he poured some out and placed it next to her plate.

Stop it... her heart paced faster, while her mind tried keeping her smart. But she could tell which was winning. She smiled back, nodding at him in gratitude before taking a sip of her drink and start eating.

Taeyong watched her silently, smiling every time she hummed in pleasure at the food. Seeing her able to be in her own self without the pressure of cameras around her. He felt it too, but he could tell the insecurity was higher for her.

"Should we get to know each other better?" he spoke up, getting her attention as she stared perplexed. "I know we kinda did that in the first meeting, but I feel like we didn't really get to talk as much as we should have as a potential couple..."

Seulgi stared a little longer, feeling an odd sense of worry in her chest. "You... you're really taking this whole thing seriously huh?" she asked, her voice filled with doubt.

The smile disappeared from his face so fast, Seulgi realised her mistake in asking in such a tone. He bit his lip, looked down at the table, then back up with a much sadder smile.

"I'm sorry, I kinda assumed you were in it seriously too... but I guess it's better to know now than in the end."

"What do you mean seriously?" she asked, trying to be sympathetic, although she felt bad for ruining his expectations.

Taeyong sighed. "Well, I joined this in hopes to find someone for real. Considering my time as a teacher, I haven't had the best of luck in finding a long term relationship. My friend works in production and told me about this, and I had a lot of paid leaves left, so I figured it's the perfect chance for me to find someone." he stopped and watched her expressions, noticing a look of guilt. "What about you? What made you join if you're not really into it?"

Seulgi silently thought for a while, debating how honest she should be with him. Her answer, completely. "My mum signed me up for this because I wasn't, as she said, taking the initiative myself of finding someone. Truthfully I like to keep busy at the hospital, and... I don't mean to sound rude but I've just seen dating go wrong for a lot of my friends so it never came across me to go for it. When I came into this though, I honestly didn't have expectations, I was just gonna see how everything goes.."

She felt a weight off her chest having finally have been honest bout this with someone. But she still felt bad, feeling as though she wasted his chance at a proper relationship. She warrily watched his expression, noticing he seemed very deep in thought all of a sudden.

"So, you're not entirely closed off to the idea of a relationship coming out of all this right?"

"I guess not?" she answered more like a question.

He smiled again, a little reluctantly though. "Well, we have another three weeks. How about you give us a chance? I am hopeful that after this show we might actually be something. I mean, I think you're a great person, I'd love to get to know you more."

>>>

Seulgi couldn't believe herself as she put her arms through the dress she decided to wear for their date night. Two weeks in and suddenly she found herself excited and putting in effort to look her best, something she never would have done even three months back.

Not that she went out looking sloppy, but the way she was stressed now about looking good, she never would have imagined.

As it turned out, Taeyong was great to her. Besides music and dancing, she found out their shared love of art and photography, and how he was just as career focused as she was, except he had realised sooner he felt empty from loneliness while Seulgi assumed she was simply unproductive.

Another thing she realised, and so did Taeyong, was that she did better off camera, and she couldn't have been more relieved when he didn't bother her with it and instead matched her energy. On camera, they kept things civil and formal, while when they turn off the two get comfortable with each other, talking and laughing to no end sometimes.

Their current date was on camera, and that was another thing she worried about. It would be their final week together in the house, and she was nervous as to what would the end result be. As she finally stepped out of the room, she looked around before going to the living room, seeing that Taeyong had already gotten ready and sat waiting for her.

"Hey." she called softly, smiling when he looked up, eyeing her up and down as if in awe of her looks. "Let's go?"

"Oh yea, yes." he stumbled his words a bit before getting up in a haste, heading to the front door and opening it for her. She chuckled at his sudden clumsiness, but it was something she had learned to appreciate. After closing the door behind then, Taeyong went ahead and helped her into his car as well, and like before giving her the option to pick their music for the drive.

It wasn't any longer than half an hour when they arrived at a rooftop restaurant, where they sat and immediately indulged in the food. Seulgi noticed the director signalling them to interact more, and though nervous she tried her best, relieved again as Taeyong didn't mind it too much himself.

Before long they were done, and the cameras stopped filming as the crew began to pack away to move back to the house, when the director suddenly came up to the two at their table looking strict.

"Ms Kang, I'm not sure how the two of you will end your relationship, but for once could you show something on camera? Your segments are so far the most boring, you're not captivating the audience, I get you might not enjoy this but for as long as you signed up for it give us something to work with."

Seulgi felt her throat close up, as if she lost all ability to speak completely. The man wasn't yelling, but the stern voice was enough to scare her, and all she could do was whisper a soft apology bowing her head slightly. A sudden hand grabbing hers caught her off guard further, and she looked up to see Taeyong standing right by her, squeezing her hand in reassurance.

"We apologise sir, Seulgi just doesn't do well in front of cameras, so please there is no need to cause a commotion. I mean, it's our last week anyways."

"Mr Lee I'm sorry but this doesn't concern you. It is the last week, but we've never intervened before considering her comfort of getting along with you, but as it is the last week our writers and producers have had complaints all around. Like I said, her cuts have been boring, so please just for these last few days give us something to end on a good note."

The crew decided to stop filming for the rest of the night, figuring everyone needed some rest after that slight conflict of interest. Taeyong drove Seulgi back in silence, despite there being no cameras or mics on them, as he noticed her upset. He felt bad, knowing how she was here reluctantly yet she attempted her best yet it wasn't enough, and although he knew where she went wrong, he didn't think she deserved that intervention.

As they reached the house and he parked the car, he quickly reached over and held her hand before she could leave. Seulgi stopped undoing the seat belt and looked at him confused, sitting back comfortable when seeing his sad smile at her.

"Let's sit for a bit." she sighed at his suggestion, looking out the window as he took her hand in both his, rubbing his thumb over the back of hers. "Don't get disheartened, they mean well, but it's not your fault."

"It is..." she suddenly pulled her hand away, her voice filled with sudden bitterness. "It's always been my fault. That's why I'm here, my mother is sick of me being this way, I don't know why I am but I hate it too..."

"What do you mean?" Taeyong asked confused by the sudden outburst, further shocked when noticing her teary eyes.

"I've never been good at... socialising, and communication... whenever someone had asked me out I'd shut them out almost immediately because I wouldn't know how to react. Like as long as we're aquintances or friends I'm good, but then moment anyone tries to go further, I get all closed off..."

By now she had wiped her eyes few times trying to stop the tears running down her cheeks, but it was a failed attempt when she noticed Taeyong handing her a tissue. She took it reluctantly and wiped her face, before rushing to get inside the house and into her bedroom.

>

Seulgi felt bad. Taeyong had genuinely been concerned for her, even stood up for her, and all she did was have an outburst before shutting herself away. Again. She wanted to get back to him, but she didn't know how. She had already washed up and changed into some shorts and a lounge shirt, and she figured by now Taeyong would have done the same.

She wanted to go out to him badly, but again she didn't know how. Not until knocks came on her door and she scurried up to open it, her heart shaking at the sight of the said man holding two ice cream cups and spoons smiling at her.

"I figured you'd wanna have something for dessert, to feel better."

For some reason, Seulgi felt unable to control herself. Before she knew it she had thrown herself towards Taeyong, hand around his neck while her face hid in his shoulder, body tight to his as she hugged him and all of a sudden let out a sigular loud sob. With his hands full, Taeyong wasn't sure what to do but wrap his arms around her as well, slowly walking her into her room to place the ice cream and spoons onto the vanity table and then hug her back properly.

Though he wasn't entirely sure, he felt she needed nothing but an embrace at this very moment. And that's exactly what he gave her as they stood in the middle of the room in silence, still hugging, his one hand around her waist while the other rubbed her back up and down.

After a few minutes Seulgi finally lifted her head up, turning to him slowly as she felt embarrassed from what had just happened. But she also felt calm, comforted, peaceful, unlike ever before as their eyes slowly met. Taeyong gave her a quick smiled, but the longer they stared his smile suddenly disappeared, but not from negativity.

She figured she was still at no control of herself, not when Seulgi realised her face had moved closer to his, noses almost touching as his eyes trailed down to her lips, and before Taeyong himself could think any longer she had sealed their lips together, kissing him softly but with need.

As realisation hit of what she had done, she pulled away just as quickly. "Shit..." she tried to push away from Taeyong's hold, but this time he held her closer and they kissed again. Her hands threaded through his hair, tugging on his locks as their kiss deepened, body's pressing together closer. As they pulled away to breath, Seulgi quickly hid head face into his chest, causing him to chuckle which she felt as his chest vibrated.

"The ice-cream will melt." he whispered, making her look up to his shy smile. "Let's enjoy it, together." he let go of her and grabbed the tubs again, sitting on her bed and signalling her over. Seulgi was confused more than ever, but went along with it.

>>>

The crew were delighted, noticing something was different from the night before, and although it was the final three days of filming the couple, the slight change in Seulgi's on camera demeanor was enough for them to be satisfied. She had been smiling more, especially when the two spoke, and showing more expressions. On the second last day, she even laughed out at the moment Taeyong tripped and dropped his water bottle over himself.

"That's a wrap." the director called out later in the evening. "Good job everyone, and great progress Ms Kang. As tomorrow is the last day, it has been planned by the writers in advance so you will receive instructions later tonight."

They had been in the backyard of the house, having a quick dinner while talking about whatever they could think of. The moment the staff had left, Seulgi started clearing away their cutlery when a sudden splash took her attention, and she turned to see Taeyong, in nothing but his shorts, wading around the pool.

"What are you doing?" she called out to him, putting the plates down again a little further away.

"Come on, it's relaxing. Jump in."

Hesitant, Seulgi thought for a minute before deciding to just go for it. She went inside, changed into a swimsuit she found, and quickly came back out jumping in, laughing as the water splashed into Taeyong's face. She quickly tried waddling away, but he was faster as he chased behind and splashed her back, and they soon started a water fight.

With the sun almost setting and the wind gentle, Taeyong couldn't help stare at the woman in front of him who looked beautiful as always, and a sudden sadness filled in him that it was their last day together, unofficially at least. Unable to help himself, he went closer to her slowly as Seulgi wiped her eyes, her attention taken away when feeling arms around her waist. She looked up at him a little surprised, but his warm smile was enough to put her at ease as she smiled back, her hands now placed on his shoulders.

As their bodies slowly got closer, Seulgi realised he was top naked, and started biting her lower lip with her eyes off to a corner in shyness, causing Taeyong to laugh.

"Are you nervous?" his sudden question got her to look back at him, and she noticed the slight worry in his eyes.

"About what?"

"Tomorrow." his one hand moved to push some of her wet hair off her face. "It's our last night together, and tomorrow... well, I'm nervous." Her hands wrapped around his neck as she suddenly pulled herself closer to him.

"Why?"

"Well... what's your verdict?" Seulgi realised what he was talking about, and knew she shared the same worry. "Do you wanna continue this afterwards?" his questions left her speechless. She came into this program with no motivation on being involved with whoever she would be with. But now she was confused.

Did she like Taeyong enough to have a relationship? Sure they kissed that one time, but they never spoke about it after.

"What's yours?" that was all she managed to let out, afraid she might say the wrong thing otherwise. She watched as he bit his lip, looking down at the water then back up at her.

"I don't want to force you into something you don't want." oddly, his answer frustrated Seulgi, and it was evident as a frown appeared on her face. "I mean, my answer depends on yours, if you don't want to then neither will I."

"You're such a coward." Seulgi let out before she could think or realise what she said, catching herself and him off guard. She quickly pulled away from his hold, backing away slightly before he caught her hand, preventing her from getting any further.

"Why am I a coward?"

"I'm sorry..." she sighed, but figured it's best to be honest with him at this point. "I didn't mean it like that. I just don't like that you're leaving the final decision on me. Why is it my responsibility only for our relationship to work?"

Taeyong was further confused, pulling her closer by her arm then holding both her hands. "That's not how I mean it to be. I just don't want to put you in an uncomfortable situation. I mean, you said it yourself, you're just here because your mother sent you. I wasn't gonna make you be our reason to not work out, I just thought it's best to figure out our position now so that there's no awkward tension tomorrow in front of everybody else." he sighed as he finished speaking, noticing the slight worry on her face.

That's when he realised what she was doing, closing herself off again. Only this time, Taeyong was determined to break her out of her shell. If their relationship was going to fail, he wanted it to be on proper reasons, and shying away out of fear or hesitation was not going to cut it for him.

He slowly pulled her even closer, encasing her within his arms again as his forehead rested on hers, sending her into shock again as her body froze up.

"Let go how you really feel Seulgi." he whispered. "It's now or never, and I'd regret myself if you hide away again." this time, his lips were first on hers, nothing more than a soft peck. That was until her hands circled around his neck and kissed him back. Taeyong smiled through their kiss, tightening his hold around her as their kiss deepened, happier when he felt her pulling them closer to the point their legs entangled underwater.

Once they pulled away, Seulgi for the first time didn't shy away. Maybe it was what he said that really got to her, or maybe she finally felt open and comfortable with him enough, but instead she looked at him directly and smiled, eyes glimmering with hope.

>

"Let's move on to our next couple, Taeyong and Seulgi." the interviewer spoke as the couple were next to walk onto the patio where she had been speaking to the coupled before them.

It was the final day of filming, and as mentioned the crew had already pre-planned the itinerary, with every couple coming in separately to get interviewed about their experience and outcome. So far three other couples had positive results, and Seulgi and Taeyong were the second last to be called on. She wiped her hands on her skirt, feeling how sweaty they were from sudden rush of nerves, but one look at Taeyong and she suddenly felt better as he smiled at her before they got to the table.

"So, Seulgi, apparently you were quite closed off at the beginning of the show, is that right?" embarassed, Seulgi nodded with a nervous chuckle. "How was that for you Taeyong?"

Taeyong hummed as if in thought, even though he already had an answer. "Honestly, I didn't mind it. Obviously no one would be completely comfortable with somebody they just met, let alone living under one roof, so yea it took her some time but we had a lot of nice conversations. I think that's something I really appreciate about Seulgi, being able to have good conversations with her." his eyes drifted towards Seulgi, who looked back at him in awe at his unexpected answer.

"Oh my, that's quite touchy." the interviewer cheered. "How about you Seulgi? How did you feel about Taeyong after your initial meeting?"

Seulgi was still taken aback by his answer, but she had one ready to go as well. "I think my favourite moments were our conversations as well, especially when it was just two of us. Like you said I was a bit closed off, but on our own time he was still patient with getting to know me, and I really love that about him." the words left her mouth before she could finish, causing her to hand to clasp over her mouth while the interviewer gasped, and Taeyong stared in happy shock.

"Did you say love?" he teased her.

"I meant, your personality wise, like... being patient... uhm-"

"Well, I love your insightfulness, and your laugh." he suddenly replied, and although Seulgi knew it was to defuse her awkward position, which itself melted her heart, she could also tell he was being genuine.

"Oh my God you two must have gotten really close. Can I conclude this as a success story?"

The couple instinctively looked at each other with knowing eyes, before Taeyong smiled and turned to the interviewer.

"We still have a long way to go, but I guess you could say it was destiny."

>>>

"God, you were so cliche back then." Taeyong scowled at the words coming out of his wife, who laid next to him on her phone watching the three year old clip on youtube.

"Yea well, this cliche man was the one who you married, so needless to say my charms worked."

Seulgi chuckled, putting her phone away and turning towards her husband, throwing her arm around his torso as she cuddled closer. He laid his arm out for her to rest on, fingers playing with her hair as they got comfortable enough to fall asleep.

"I wouldn't have had it any other way." they shared a quick kiss, before laying back down and closing their eyes, both knowing he was right back then.

>>>

omg I forgot if this ask is a year or more, so sorry for the delay anon!🙏🏼 like I said, this exam season got my nerves so high I'm binge writing a few things together again lmao so I hope you enjoyed this still! took me a little extra thought for it bcuz ngl I've NEVER watched dating shows😅 so not sure if the format is what you expected (or if it made any sense😬)

[daydreamgoddess14]

Salvation pt. 3

Full Masterlist

Roy Kent Masterlist

Roy Kent / Reader - general rating for now... set to increase 😏

Meet the woman who stole Roy Kent's watch... We finally get to some Roy x Reader deep conversation and messy history... This one is ALL OF THE ANGST guys! But the reward in part 4.... whooooo boy! The spoils (🔥) are coming lads, fear not!

This also helpfully covers one of the prompts from my 200 Followers Celebration 🎉! From a lovely Anon who requested Roy and "I won't let anything bad happen to you".

~~~~~~~~

You pick Sammy up. It’s an excuse really to see Nia, your mother/sister/best friend stand in of the last few years. Even if she is practically the same age. If Sammy’s the one who gave you a job and some semblance of financial security, Nia’s the one who recognised the dark hole you were in and lowered down the ladder to you. You hadn’t realised how close you could feel with someone in only three years, but she’d become your ‘person’ almost immediately.

“Darling, morning.”

“Hey, how’re you feeling?”

“Like my ribs have become a xylophone.” You grimace at that. The human body is a magnificent and terrifying thing. When she’d shown you in her baby book how her organs shifted to make space for her growing baby, you’d declared auntie duty would be just fine, thanks. There would be no babies moving your organs around. 

“Nice. Brought you breakfast.” You pass her a bag of pastries. “Is he ready yet?”

“Nearly. Must have changed either his tie or his turban about four times trying to find the perfect combination,” you both roll your eyes and laugh at his commitment to the flawless matching pair. You both knew the answer already - 

“Blue floral.” You confirm together with a nod.

“The fabric is just beautiful. I do feel sorry for the poor bugger who has to make a matching tie for every turban though.” You muse, knowing it’s his mother in law who takes up that mantle.

“I know, right? And he complains that I buy too many books? I think not, pal.” She sniggers.

“You show him who’s boss. Cos if you don’t, then a certain someone else will.” You point at her growing belly. 

“Come on, Sam. You’re going to be late!” She shouts up the stairs. “Dinner tonight?” She asks you, she knows you might need company after the day ahead of you. You’ve disclosed a lot more of your past to her than Sam so she’s already up to speed on the last few days. You nod gratefully. “You’ll be fine. You need to talk to him though, apologise properly - explain what was going on back then.”

“I know. I will.” You hug her tightly and pester Sam out of the door.

Rebecca Welton is a gracious host. Warm, welcoming… you knew the lies the tabloids liked to spread so you knew the whole ‘cold, old Rebecca’ name tag was a load of crap.

“So, I think if it suits you both, I’ll have a cup of tea with Sam and we can get caught up while I get Roy to give you a tour and then we can arrange some smaller interviews with key staff and players?” Sam is beside himself,

“Sounds perfect Ms. Welton.”

“Yep, I’d love a tour.” You accept with a tight smile. 

“Wonderful! Here’s Roy now,” he steps through the open door and is clearly not expecting to see you.

“Thought we had reporters coming?” He grunts.

“We do, Sammy’s here from the Gazette. This is his… apprentice?” Rebecca tells him, “Something like that.” Sam laughs. You take a deep breath before holding your hand out,

“Nice to meet you again.”

“Hmm.” His warm hand engulfs yours and shakes it. The feel of his skin against yours is enough to trigger memories through your brain at top speed - his hand in yours, his hands on your face, your legs, in your hair. You snatch your hand away. “Come on, tour.” You follow him down the stairs and through mazes of rooms, “ticket office, finance,” then out into a wide corridor, “hall of fame.” You stop to look at the collection of memorabilia, making your way slowly past each piece and reading the accompanying cards. You stop fully at the couple of shelves dedicated to him, fingertips resting lightly on the glass. He clears his throat and you follow him deeper into the building. “Locker room, physio, boot room.” He pauses at the boot room. More memories come flooding back. “Remember when we -”

“Yeahhh,” you breathed, “I remember every single time.” You turn away to avoid his gaze.

“We were good together?”

“The best.” You reply quietly, a little sadness creeping in. He pushes the door open and holds it for you to follow. You sit shoulder to shoulder on the bench, both looking straight ahead.

“How have you been?” He asks quietly.

“Better recently. You?”

“Well no one has stolen my fucking watch lately.” He bumps you slightly, there’s the barest hint of amusement in his voice that you latch onto.

“They haven’t tried hard enough then,” you reply with a wry smile. He lets out a breathy laugh that he can’t quite disguise as anything else.

“I wish I could be more fucking angry with you than I am.”

“You have every right to be angry with me. I fucked up. I’ve been angry with myself for as long as I can remember.”

“You really fucked up. I just can’t understand why. I’ve spent this whole time trying to understand why. Because we were good together.”

“I know.” You agree, again. You were good together. You’ve been single since the day you walked out on him, haven’t even kissed anyone else in all that time. He’s the one you think of when you’re alone - he’s the only one you need to think of when you can’t sleep and you let your memories guide your hand down your body. These are obviously things you can’t say aloud, illicit memories you shouldn’t lean on but do. You sigh, he’s so expectant beside you, “How are you so… calm?” you wonder aloud. 

“Therapy,” he mutters with a short laugh.

“Shit, really?”

“Yeah, you?”

“No. Not sure if I’m ready for that yet.”

“Much as I hate to admit it, it helps.”

“Do you remember when you were angling for an invite to Christmas at my mums?” You ask, he frowns a little at the sudden change of subject. You feel him nod next to you.

“That’s when it started, that’s when you started to pull away. I never met any of your family.”

“My brother. You never met him, I never wanted you to meet him. He was there… he’s an addict. He has been for a really long time and we’ve tried everything to help him, everything. He told me that he was in some money trouble with some blokes he brought off. I didn’t have much but I gave him everything I had saved. Then he needed more. And more, and more and I just didn’t know where I was going to get it from, or how to help him. I took the watch, changed my phone number and left.” You pause for a minute to take stock of what you’ve said, you can tell he wants to ask questions but he waits patiently instead. “He was a fucking mess. I made him tell me who he owed and went to see them on my own, told them I’d pay them back myself if they never went near him again. Worked about three jobs, moved back in with mum so I wouldn’t have to pay rent as well, and spent the next year and a half paying them back. I worked 18 hour days, 7 days a week. I literally kept back, like, a tenner a week for myself. I kept a record of how much I paid and when. When we were done I told them so and told them to never come near us again.”

“And?”

“They still turn up occasionally to try and get more out of me, they claim it’s interest.”

“And your brother?”

“We sent him to my uncle’s house up in the North West, he’s been there ever since but he’s clean now. Too scared to come home though.” Roy is quiet for the longest time.

“He must have owed…”

“About 130k. Maybe a bit more than that. I was pretty fucking knackered. I was doing early mornings 4-8am at Maccys, then 8.30-5 with Sammy at the paper and then bar shifts til about 10 or 11 pm most nights. Sam saved me, let me get an hour's kip at lunchtime, and brought extra food every day for me to share with him.”

“Fuuuuuck.” He slumps where he’s sat next to you.

“There is something else.” He looks over in disbelief. You reach into your bag, pull out a sleek, matt black box and put it in his hands. 

“Fuck off?” He slides open the box to find his Rolex, in pristine condition - still ticking. “Fuck off.”

“I went to hand it over to them and… I couldn’t. I didn’t want them to have something of yours. I didn’t want to know that I’d done that, sunk that low.” Your voice gets even smaller, “they tried to suggest other methods of payment but…” you feel his shoulders tense, see his fists ball tightly in his lap, “I told them to give me a couple of months and see that I was good for the money, and if I ever missed a payment then we’d have that conversation.” He wants to know if you ever had the conversation, you can feel it in the air between you both,

“You never have to justify yourself to me.” He says firmly.

“I didn’t do it. Never missed a payment. Had to borrow a bit from Sam occasionally when I fell short, but I was never going to have that conversation with them. Never.” The air feels weighty with the tension, like it's risen up from your shoulders where it’s weighed you down for the last three years and is now hovering around you both. You’re amazed you got through it without tears. It’s been so easy to fall into the trap of feeling sorry for yourself over the years and wallow in the self pity of it all. Roy on the other hand is still visibly tense, his knuckles white. You tentatively reach your hand across to cover his, using your fingers to unball his hands.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He sounds worse than he had when he asked the same question a few days ago. His voice is hoarse and tight,

“I couldn’t let them know about you. They’d have ruined you. I had to protect you.”

“I won’t let anything bad happen to you. I would never have let anything happen to you. We could have sorted it together.” You turn to face him, bringing your other hand to his cheek,

“No love, it was never your problem to fix.”

“If all of this was over eighteen months ago -”

“Don’t ask me why I didn’t come back, Roy. It’s never really over, I couldn’t bring this shit to your doorstep and these dickheads just turn up whenever they think they might get a bit of extra cash out of me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I’m sorry I took your watch and I’m sorry I walked out on us.” You can hear voices in the corridor outside, your times up and now you both have to be the epitome of professionalism while Roy is interviewed. “I’ll get Sam to interview the team and other staff first, give you some time.”

“What about you?”

“I’ve been living with this for three years, I’m tougher than I look. Besides, I’ve got some happy memories of this place,” you admit, looking around the familiar boot room. “I had the best sex of my life in this very room.” He lets out a low laugh, shaking his head. “I would never expect you to forgive me, Roy, but I truly thank you for giving me the chance to explain.” You pat his hand gently and leave a cool space beside him when you slip through the door to meet up with Sam and Rebecca.

~~~~~~

[warm-concrete]

Weapon & Wound.

Chapter 2

Astarion x Fem!Reader + Gale x Fem!Reader

Summary: Tav is a druid drow called Fawn.

Fawn gains attention wherever she goes. She's more than used to men that are troublesomely complimentary at best, wishing to revel in her death at worst.

So she's exasperated when she can't divert her attention from Astarion, who acts as though he'd like to do both and more.

Word Count: 6.7k

Ao3 Links: Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

Tags on Ao3. NSFW Snippet Below.

What a show.

Astarion had been awake all night, still not used to sleeping through it, despite all the battles he’d been dragged into that day.

It had been an incredibly dull evening, trapped with his thoughts by the rain. Usually he’d go find something to hunt and drink but, he wasn’t going to get drenched for animal blood, his hair would be ruined. 

Instead he focused on the one thing that didn’t involve the tadpole or Cazador. He thought about her. If he was honest, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. Like the evening they’d spent gossiping, when she’d excitedly indulged his musings on their companions’ blood. It was a strange feeling, chatting casually, she almost seemed more comfortable than he was with his undead status.

Whenever she was close, which was constantly since he had apparently been included in her favoured group to go off exploring, he couldn’t help but become acutely aware of her smell. Her blood pumping, hidden by skin. It was becoming irksome, to know how she felt inside him, the effect her blood had in him. He desperately wanted more, but it wasn’t like he could just ask. 

He was growing better at hunting animals with each passing day. It was almost funny, how he was so practised in the art of luring people but, against the wilderness he was out of his element. Like he was just another predator on the food-chain. But he had to do it, their blood was the only thing stopping him from tearing Fawn apart. Gods! Even her stupid name temped him, teased him. 

After being starved for so long, he found that he didn’t like the feeling of being full. It was strange, unnatural, uncomfortable. It felt worse than the infinite hunger he’d been forced to nurture. Except that one night. Her blood was the exquisite exception.

For the second time in this century, his dick twitched on its own accord. This time, in the privacy of his tent, covered with the sound of the storm he grew curious. Besides he didn’t have any better plans and abstinence was unhealthy for a man of his condition, probably.

Astarion pulled his semi out from his leathers. He spat in his palm and reached for himself. Anything to have her in my mouth again. Her flesh; skin not so tough when warred with his jaw. He pumped slowly, with a strong grip. She’d nursed him drooling and panting and messy, dosing him, nourishing him. His breath hitched. He tried to picture spreading her open, instead he saw another’s legs. This was torture.  

But, he continued, fangs bared as he looked down as himself. His dick was pulsing, straining, dripping. His fist was hammering down, desperate for distraction, to loosen some tension. He was well versed in finding what made another tick, and yet. 

He tried closing his eyes, brow crumpled. A thought flashed; the drow climbing onto him. Yes. Grabbing his neck, tipping his head back. Gods, yes. An unexpected heat spread through him, he was leaking over his fingers. She drew a stake from where one arm had stayed behind her back, plunging it through ribs.

“Ueh.” He whipped his hand away from himself, shakily wiping his hand off over his chest, bare from where his shirt had ridden up. “Mood killer.” He announced to his messy confines. His dick still stood straight, aching for attention but, he was disinterested in what his body wanted. Blood, touch, heat, softness; always so needy, it was tiresome.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed as he lay still. He thought of thumbing through a book he’d picked up but remembered how incredibly dull its contents had been: ‘Thyme heals all wounds’. The spelling had been covered with a dark smudge when he grabbed it. He wasn’t amused when he’d sat expecting some hilariously awful publication, only to find infographics and illustrations about planting a garden of useful herbs. The rain had slowed from a pour, but was still constant, relentless. Although the thunder had grown sparse. 

Thats when he’d heard her.

[vinegar-rights]

thoughts on my version of little shop of horrors: seymours mother :p (read tags plz)

I like to combine aspects of the 1986 and the 1960 films :3.

He was put up for adoption as a baby, too expensive to care for a child. Seymour grew up assuming he was an orphan and was put into the custody of Mr. Mushnik. As he became older, he figured that he DID have a biological mother and she was still alive. He tried to reach out to meet her, but she refused to keep contact. He never met her until he became more well known, with newspapers covering the story of him and his new special plant. His success reached her and Seymour was delighted to know that he was finally going to meet his mother after so many years. Who knew fame was this powerful?

She requested that he visit her apartment for dinner. The woman was older, with messy gray-white hair and eyes that matched seymours, mousey and nervous. She welcomed her son but not without a quick check-up, only to make sure he won't drop dead right at that moment.

The apartment was messy, but no smell of mildew or sight of mold. A clean-ish hoarding situation, there were boxes everywhere full of who knows what and half-used first aid kits. The lack of bugs is what made Seymour confused, cockroaches were a common bug, especially in more drafty, more run down apartments like in Skid Row. He developed a bit of a phobia, growing up around the critters in skid rows home for boys. Dirty. Gross. Even as an adult he sometimes would sit up in bed in the middle of the night, scanning his room for any nocturnal bugs that would skitter in for shelter from the elements.

Seymour was immediately put off by the kitchen, where dinner was cooking. His mother had been talking the entire time, rambling something about the shop and what was in the paper that day, he tuned her out as he became more aware of his surroundings. The kitchen had bottles full of medicine, pill bottles aligned in rows on the counter, and already there's a napkin out with a glass of water with an assortment of pills that are ready to be consumed.

he noticed Seymour's quietness and slight discomfort, who was gazing at the view of her kitchen. She turned to explain her many issues, bad back, sinus infection, constant cold, her appendix got removed recently, ect. Her explanation managed to visibly calm her son's nerves, but he was still eyeing what was on the stove. Seymour tried not to pay mind to his mother's cooking, she was gracious enough to try to form a connection with him, and even asked him to come over! He turned to her to change the subject, he didn't want it to seem like he was judging her. They talked throughout the afternoon about what happened in the past years, and how they found each other. Most of the conversation was directed at Seymour: How did you find the plant? What kind is it? Oh, its a cross between a flytrap and what exactly? You don't know? You must be getting a lot of press, any opportunities? You were asked to host a TV show?ect. There were so many questions that Seymour wasn't to ask his own, he wanted to know why it took so long to talk to her, where was she this entire time, why didn't she reach out first?

Eventually, she passed him a bowl of whatever was in the pot in the kitchen. He didn't notice any food on the counter. The soup smelled sweet, like cough syrup. He opted to drink more of the water she offered, but he didn't want to be rude, he consumed some of the dinner. She grinned as she ate her food with her son, explaining that this is a staple of her household. The aftertaste after one spoonful made his whole body shiver as if he drank bitter wine. Out of fear of potentially offending her and risking her cutting him off forever, he ate a little bit more, cringing at the taste. Quickly he started becoming nauseous. He paused, looking more closely at the bowl, there was little to no actual food, there was a broth of course, but little to no items that would be the cause of this spike in anxiety and confusion. Something dawned on him. While his mother was watching him in between spoonfuls, she asked if he was okay. He nodded but politely declined any more. His newly reunited mother was either horribly ill all the time or a hypochondriac. He didn't need a high school education to know that. The pills and bottles on the counter were another explanation. This wasn't regular soup. She was drugging him. He sat up from the realization, and his mother became more worried at his sudden change of personality. She asked him if he was alright again, if he didn't like her food. He replied hastily that it was amazing, it's just that he remembered he left the stove on-- no, he needed to check on twoey, around this time her leaves should get washed. She accepted that explanation, and began pushing him out the door to help him on his way to Mushnik and Sons. As soon as Seymour was on the sidewalk outside of her apartment, he turned to an alleyway nearby. Fearful of whatever was in his system, he tried to throw up.

He became experienced when he accidentally ingested pesticide as a child and had to induce vomiting to avoid a hospital visit. He ran home, still feeling some residual effects of the drugs, despite only ingesting a little. The shop was empty and dark, Mr. Mushnik and Audrey went home early that day. He drank water and tried to calm himself. He found himself leaning next to audrey ii's pot, mind racing from the events that transpired. His strange mother, the apartment, the "food".

Tears sprang from his eyes as he thought everything over. She only cared to reach out as soon as he became famous. She didn't care to reach out to what was presumably her only child and never gave an explanation as to why she gave him away. He felt used. Defeated, he cried into his clammy hands. Why is everyone so cruel? Was twoey right? That some people were evil by fault and needed to die? His thoughts were deafening his senses, and didn't notice a vine curl around his body and pulled toward the sentient plant. Twoey could read his mind, which was why she knew what his innermost desires were. Turns out trying to get Seymour to reunite with his mother was a bad idea. He tired himself out after 2 hours, one of her vines snaked around his wrist and fingers, sensing Seymour's ratial artery to monitor his heart rate. He was asleep eventually, blanketed by twoeys vines and leaves. Thanks to Seymour, Orin left twoey satisfied for the past week, though maybe she could convince him again for another meal sometime soon.

[leejenowrld]

this might be a weird question, but scrolling thru insta i saw lots of parents handling baby blowouts and bty just came across my mind😭

how was the first baby blowout with the love and games universe parents?

not gonna lie these kinds of questions make me feel a bit sick for obvious reasons LOLL but i’ve still given answers haha. if you know these characters, you know nobody is escaping the great baby blowout saga. every new parent in the love and games universe gets initiated by the “what in god’s name just came out of my child” moment. here’s how the first blowouts went down for each of them:

jeno & y/n it happened on a sunday morning, of course, when they were just starting to feel like they had things under control. serin was only a few weeks old, fast asleep on jeno’s chest while y/n ran a bath. jeno had just texted, “look at our little angel—she’s so peaceful.” two seconds later: eruption. a slow, ominous warmth on his shirt, then a squelch, then the slow, dawning horror as he lifts serin and the entire back of her onesie is yellow. y/n walks in just as he’s frozen, baby in midair, whispering, “help me, please, i don’t know what to do.” serin, meanwhile, is giggling—proudest, stinkiest bubba in the world. they end up tag-teaming the bath, shrieking and laughing, scrubbing everything but mostly just losing it at the fact that babies could do that.

mark & areum with chaeun, it was artistic—of course, their daughter would save her first blowout for a public moment. they were at mark’s parents’ house, everyone passing the baby around, and suddenly mark feels something hot on his thigh. lifts the blanket—splat. mark tries to act calm, but areum bursts out laughing, snapping a dozen photos before helping him wrestle a very unimpressed, very messy chaeun out of her tiny dress in the guest bathroom. the entire family still tells the story every holiday, and mark swears he never truly recovered from that day.

jaemin & sunshine (haeun) haeun’s first blowout was during rounds at the hospital. jaemin thought he could handle anything—he’s seen everything as a doctor, right? but nothing prepares you for the sheer force of a tiny baby defying the laws of physics and containment. he’s trying to stay composed, but by the time he’s carrying a naked, slippery, giggling haeun to the staff bathroom, half the nurses are watching, cackling, offering wipes and moral support. “welcome to parenthood,” someone says, and jaemin just groans, swearing that he’ll never underestimate a nappy again.

in every family, the first blowout becomes legend. a battle scar, a rite of passage, a story that gets told with more laughter and less shame every year. (and yes, there are photos, and no, nobody is safe from getting tagged in them at future birthday parties.)

[glassrowboat]

If I bleed for you, drain myself dry for a drop of your affection, will you see me then, my love?

-

I believe I've always had a different view of death than many, or at least, those I've met. You see, future me, I have been told the end of it all is scary, that the moment our strings of fate are cut all that's left is the abyss to swallow us whole, but is that truly so bad?

Not to mention, that's not how I picture death at all, anyway.

You see, I don't imagine a skeleton with a scythe, but a woman far more beautiful than life could ever be. Golden hair, eyes brighter than the sun, and a smile that any painter would wish to capture. She would lead those who have passed into the beyond and wish them safe travels as their visage wonders into the distance.

This is what I imagined death as for years, even as I craved her touch, her embrace, but today, I think I might have seen death differently.

Today, death was blue, white, and stunk of antiseptic.

-

The middle of winter was supposed to be the coldest time of all, especially as Snezhaya's winds whipped around the small carriage in were in, rocking with every lull of the anemo Archon call. Back and forth in a steady motion, almost like a crib with a father's hand keeping it ever in motion.

But right now was the hottest you've ever been, even as your eyes fell on the partially open curtain to see through the window. Taught fabric in hand from you trying to find anything you could clutch onto for dear life revealing flurries of snow. For her breath was warm, her hands scorching, her tongue like molten lava as it traced your core.

You couldn't even hear the sound of snow crunching under the carriage wheels as you cried her name.

Arlecchino.

All you were greeted with in response was the feeling of her nails digging into the fat of your thighs.

Casual.

That's what she was telling you, warning you, even as you felt like a meal set before the gods. Graced by their touch as their forks stabbed into you and rose your boneless corpse to their lips. Tasting you as your very essence is swallowed down their throats.

-

The first thing he noticed as Kazuha woke up was a green ribbon, a soft little thing that was funnily enough the same color as his vision, now wrapped around his bandaged wrist. So carefully tied onto him that it seemed if the thing even got one tug it would fall off of him in an instant. No wonder Kazuha didn't notice it being tied to him in the middle of the night. That, or he's just gotten a little numb to the usual chaos and ruckus the others of the crew would kick up right around when he usually fell asleep that his half awake mind wrote it off with ease. His fault then.

But what was truly interesting was that as Kazuha raised his arm, the little tag strung through the ribbon. A note attached? That's what the messy handwriting he had to squint to make out was telling him anyway.

Someone's in a mood then as he just barely made out through the messy scrawl. ‘Find the other four for a kiss! Xoxo!’

Well, that's manageable. At least Kazuha thought to himself as a breathy laugh fell past his lips that was quick to remind him he needed to go brush his teeth. “If you say so, my dear.”

With that, Kazuha kicked the scratchy blankets off of him, letting them slide down and off his feet as the boards his hammock was attached to by metal hooks creaked in protest from Kazuha’s sudden movements.

The first ribbon was easy to find, the color standing out amongst the wooden railing and crimson red sails that have become so accustomed to Kazuha as he climbs to the crows nest every day at some point or another to feel the breeze ruffling through his hair. The wind that would pull and tug at the pages of his notebooks full of limericks, haikus, and flowing words that would more often than not scrawl out descriptions of a certain someone's cheeks as they flush from nights of booze and idle chatter by each others sides. You would always have to find some way to get Kazuha back to his room if you didn't decide to simply give up and let him claim your lap as a pillow.

The absolute gall.

Still, the turquoise color nearly blended with the shining blue sky as the sun's rays beamed down. Today would surely be a beautiful day, he mused as another ribbon was added to the growing collection around Kazuha's wrist.

Three more to go.

It seems this entire scavenger hunt would be easy, despite what was probably your best attempts. It's hard to find spots to hide something when there's a bustling crew with curious eyes and items getting moved around every passing second. That was only further proved as a brown head popped into Kazuha’s vision, long hair trailing after the woman. At least this time, she didn't tug him into a hug that would be too tight to escape from as Beidou cheered to the seas that guided them on their journey from one port to the next.

[bittersqxtch]

Songs and Ships

thank you @athenswrites for the tag! i shall add @imslowlydisintegrating and @taeonysus8 (i really need more writer moots sob sob)

the rules of this tag game: write 2-5 songs that represent a ship between your characters (can be romantic or platonic or a secret third thing). then add a quote from your WIP beneath each song (if possible!).

i've decided that i'm gonna focus on Jae and Jun from TGCT for this since i'm currently working on that fic and this might help me get the vibes right for once (literally on my third rewrite already, someone send help ;^;)

HER - Chase Atlantic

"ꜱʜᴇ ꜱᴀʏꜱ 'ᴏᴏʜ, ᴡᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴅᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛᴇᴠᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ʙᴏʏ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ɢᴏ ꜰᴀʟʟɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ…ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴛᴀʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ, ᴀʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ'ʟʟ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ'."

this song reminds me of them because, in a moment of vulnerability, Jae makes Jun promise that he will keep hating her until the end of time. her greatest secret is that she is terminally ill (suffering from a heart illness) and that's why she lives every day like it's her last - considering how she refuses bad medication most days, she could drop dead at any moment. anyway, she has no problem hanging out with Jun and getting into messy situations with him because she believes that he will keep hating her indefinitely. unlike her friends, he won't mourn her when she dies - or at least that's what she believes. even when things get a little heated and feelings start brewing, Jae pushes the longing aside and intends to cut him off when the time comes. having a relationship with him would only subject Jun to a great deal of heartache and Jae would much rather he stay as her enemy than have him become something more only to end up wasting his life on mourning her once she passes away.

"Please hate me," Jae whispered, pulling him out of his thoughts.  When he turned to look at her, he was caught off by the silent plea shining in her eyes. "Why?" Jun frowned, confused by her request. "Why do you want me to hate you?" "Because you hated me before," Jae responded quietly. "It should be easy for you to keep hating me even if we start hanging out and acting civil with one another like this." A sad smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she added, "Besides, you never liked me in the first place, did you? So don't change that now. Don't stop hating me."

"ɪꜰ ɪ'ᴍ ꜱᴜᴄʜ ᴀ ɴɪᴄᴇ ɢᴜʏ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴅ ᴀ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ, ᴡʜʏ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴇ ᴋɪᴄᴋ ɪᴛ ᴜᴘ ᴀ ɴᴏᴛᴄʜ? ʜᴏᴡ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ, ᴍᴏᴠᴇ ɪɴ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍʏ ʜᴀɴᴅꜱ ɢɪᴠᴇ ɪᴛ ᴀ ꜱʜᴏᴛ"

Just Friends - JORDY

Jun is the first to breach the thin line between love and hate. being reluctant acquaintances with Jae seems impossible until he finds himself thinking constantly about her, wondering if she got home safely from school, becoming irritated when she's too close to other guys, and so on. he denies it time and time again, half because he cannot imagine that he could've caught feelings for his enemy and half because he subconsciously knows that nothing good will come out of him developing feelings for her. still, a part of him can't help but yearn to cross over that line. unfortunately, Jae is intent on staying enemies. no one said anything about that coming with a few benefits though...

Uh oh, he thought, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. This won't end well. "Hey," he uttered quietly, knowing that he should probably step away from her but not being able to move from the spot. Jae quirked her eyebrow at him. Equally quietly, she replied, "Hi...?" "About my wish..." "What about it?" Jun's eyes flickered down to her lips briefly. Influenced by a sudden burst of bravery, he blurted out, "I know what I want." "Oh yeah?" Jae tilted her head to the side curiously, a small smile playing on her lips. She found his awkwardness adorable, but she wasn't about to tell him that. Instead, voice quiet, she prompted, "What is it?" "...Kiss me."

"ᴛʀᴀᴘᴘᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ, ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋ ꜰʀᴇᴇ, ɪᴛ'ꜱ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴛʏ ɪꜱ ᴍᴏᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ. ɪ'ᴍ ꜱᴄʀᴇᴀᴍɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱʜᴏᴜᴛɪɴɢ ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ'ꜱ ɴᴏ ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅ. ɪ'ᴍ ʟᴏꜱᴛ, ɪ'ᴍ ꜱᴛᴜᴄᴋ, ɪ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ʙᴇ ꜰᴏᴜɴᴅ"

Trapped In A Dream - RudyWade

when they figure out that they are living in the world of a manhwa and that all that they have been through was scripted by The Writer for the plot, Jae and Jun begin to question everything - their past, their hardships, their relationship, and where The Writer intends to take the story next. amidst the chaos, they start to remember bits and pieces of their previous lives and both start wondering whether their feelings for one another are real or if, perhaps, they are nothing more than a set-up forced upon them by their god.

(i have yet to write this section so no WIP writing for this i'm afraid)

[zhephyruz]

⌞X’s⌝ Hot ˚.༄

synopsis ⟢ they just always found it so easy to fuck each other up.

tags. oc, het, smut, light angst/trauma, seniors, enemies to lovers, semi-public sex, rough fucking, fake dating, lots of punching, did i mention smashing?

notes. for my lovely bf. keeping it real. not my best work but trying lol. cas-inspired title ?!

word count. 3.8k

chapters. 1 | 2 | 3

Hot — no, almost searing like the intensity of the sun as it reaches to bury itself underneath the horizon and paint the sky sable in return. It's as if to say there was something romantic in the air but only for a fraction in time as it goes back to being chilly as it usually is. Maybe, just maybe, this could all be taking place at this particular moment if the two figures tonight were aware of the distastefully embarrassing situation they are in.

It was not that dark to alarm any parental figures about the exceedingly late arrival of their children, but the people on the streets should gradually become less and less at this time around. Families could be eating supper by now, yet the youth also thrive in moonlit hours in god knows where and who knows if it might be in some grubby alleyway doing not-so-scholarly activities with no adults or anyone else around for that matter.

By now, anyone could easily guess what two teenagers pressed in a seldom used alleyway are doing at this dwindling busy time of day, and a physically gratifying noise that comes out from one of them confirms just what they're engaged in.

"Fuck, can you get any louder?" the boy, out of the two, says gently whilst being pushed against the body he's roughly thrusting into.

The girl he's towering over barks back a "shut up," barely being able to form words previously as she had been out of breath from the guy she's with.

Although a quick smile formed on the lips of the black-haired lad instead as he bit back a more thoughtful reply, "Mmm, maybe you should hear yourself first." He takes a glance at the entrance of the closed space to check the clueless people passing by and then leans toward to whisper in the girl's ear, "You're moaning like such a fucking slut, I'm almost convinced you don't hate me at all."

If the tan-skinned girl could roll her eyes at the disgustingly right remark he made, she would yet she's already doing that because of the purposely sultry tone he utters his sentence and she hates it. She hates everything that is happening right now. She hates him. She hates that she's getting fucked by him. She hates how this is hurting her pride and ego so badly because this is absolutely beyond her. Then, she most definitely hates the fact that she's enjoying every single bit of this absurdly pleasurable moment.

The lass doesn't respond to her pair's comment, but she tries to pull herself back to reality and make at least one comprehensible thought. Their eyes lock on each other for a few seconds like they have multiple times during this interaction. She notices their gazes that are full of resentment, yet they wore expressions that didn't agree with their dispositions. The girl finally gains a second of clarity and thinks to herself, 'What the fuck am I doing right now?'

Nonetheless, she doesn't let a logical thought ruin the pace of the indecent act she's doing right now. But, she wonders if the boy who's literally fucking her might think something similar behind those unreadable eyes. She becomes slightly distracted again for now what's beginning to occupy her mind are the memories of why they're here doing everything far from holy at this night.

Her mind continues blanking from how deep she is into this endeavor, but a strange feeling plagues her — an uncertainty of the past. For a split second, she could almost recall there being a young boy in the days in which nothing seemed as messy compared to now whom she couldn't remove from her mind. Particular discomfort starts to tighten her chest as a sudden wave of gnawing aching of the shame it had brought her courses through her body, tearing through her like a thread that snapped.

"I like you, Andrew!"

Yes, this was the beginning of her shame. Back when there seemed to be nothing in the world that could stop her, she felt on top of it as she exclaimed those grievous words from her mouth.

The little kid right before her who had been shot with the startling news was, of course, Andrew. He was a bright boy and not just in intellect, or even in physicality. In the way he seemed to radiate, it was as if he had one foot in the heavens. Naturally, when someone is as close to the empyrean, they line up to worship and kiss their asses as if they're angels. Andrew was needless to say an "angel," although a rarer one for he would mostly keep to himself trying not to draw attention, yet he still shined above all else.

He attracted others like bees to nectar and she was foolishly getting wrapped around his finger just like all the other admirers he had. To her, it didn't matter though for her admiration was a "profound sense of devotion." Well, that's at least what she believes until the regrettable events after this seemingly harmless interaction.

"I...don't know what to say..." although stunned by her previous statement, he tries to respond.

Little miss courage was not quick to falter, but definitely not quite suited to rejection either. Just like her impulsive and thoughtless decision to confess, she mindlessly rushes to talk back as an act to protect her fragile feelings. "Oh, it's totally fine if you don't like me back. I'd really like if we could be friends though. Or maybe...maybe you could even think about it actually!"

"Wait-"

"-Yeah, yeah, yeah, I can give you time! There's absolutely no need to rush your answer. I can wait! Please just tell me when you're ready. Anyways, bye!"

'Nice' is what she thought to herself with her poor rambling as she scurried away from the scene. Meanwhile, Andrew stood in the hallway she had brought him to, dumbstruck at what had just unfolded.

Confessions were definitely not common everyday occurrences to him. No one would even have the audacity to get that close to him. To everyone, he was better being idealized, not an actual human being, just another star to idolize in their mediocre lives. Yes, he knew that there were plenty of people who adored him, but not to this extent. They'd keep their distance, but she dared to cross that unspoken line like there were no rules in the universe at all.

One thing he did get from the whole interaction was how she called him. She called him Andrew. Unusual. Not a single soul calls him by his second name but her because they'd always call him-

"Lei!" yes, that's what he always went by. "What was that all about?"

He turns around to see the girl who had called him out. He vaguely knows her face, but doesn't remember her name — he doesn't remember anyone's name honestly.

The boy genius snaps back to reality, "Oh, um, some confession I guess..."

"Wow really? It looks like that sucked the life out of you." the girl laughs lightly. "What'd you say though?"

Lei realizes, "I...didn't get to say anything actually."

"What, no way!" the girl is in shock, too over-expressive, he notes. "Well, do you like them back? Wait, I'm actually so curious now. You have to tell me!"

"Well," he starts, "I barely know who that was actually. I think her name was Silvia. Sierra? Uhhh, I forgot."

"Simone!" right, Simone. He probably won't remember that too as usual. Yet, the girl he's with says it so surely, he almost suspects that she had been watching the whole time. "She's in our class, dummy!"

"Oh, she just told me she liked me and ran off though."

"Whattttt? That's it?" the girl says dejected, overly affected, he notes again.

"Hmm," Lei ponders back on who Simone was. "she's pretty quiet, no?"

"What? Nah, I mean she does have friends I guess..." the girl corrects his presumption. "You just never noticed."

'Makes sense,' he thinks. He doesn't even really know who he's talking to right now, but she acts as if they're close. Perhaps, they've talked on multiple occasions, but his memory is as rusty as ever. But maybe also out of conformity, he talks to her like he does with everybody so this exchange is nothing unordinary.

As they slowly walk back to their room, he still finds the confession interesting. "I've never had someone confess to me before."

"No way! You're lying!" this girl has the most animated reactions, it's almost like she's putting on a show, but who is he to tell what human expressions are really like — he's always had a hard time figuring.

Lei slightly chuckles at the thought though, "She was quite enthusiastic about it. Pretty bold actually. I've never had someone come up to me so in my face like that."

The girl nods, "Woah, must be overwhelming."

Yes, he was undoubtedly overwhelmed for what the effect of his statement would cause him.

"You fucking jerk!"

Simone was face-to-face with him again, but only this time it was not as wholesome as anyone would anticipate.

Days pass and word spreads quickly. The short haired girl, Simone, was seething right in front of him. Well technically, looking down on him as he had been aggressively pushed making him fly to the wall.

Now, he does not know anything. He does not know why she's fuming or why she shoved him so harshly or why she had called him a jerk, but he did know that he felt like punching her hard and he did just that.

The room fell silent. Eyes gawked at the two kids whose tension filled the atmosphere like an incoming storm. No one could even think about calling the teachers. The situation was entirely unexpected and out-of-character.

Simone was amiable and well-mannered, while Lei was everyone's god, yet they both burst. The two least ill-tempered people snapped and no one knew why, even themselves.

Simone feels her likely bruised cheek where Lei had hit her. A tear rolls down her eye. It hurt — not just the punch, but how their circumstance was. At this point on, she would never feel the same about him again, but pure hatred.

"I'll fucking kill you!" she glares and comes at him with a jab that was equally as painful as the one he gave her.

Lei defends himself and tries to fight back the angry girl. 'Why's everyone just watching?' the boy wonders why everyone just went dead silent. Isn't this supposed to be something worth reporting for misconduct? But, no one could even move because by the look on their faces he could tell there was something they all knew but he didn't.

Simone sees her chance to throw a blow on him as he becomes distracted and headbutts him. The boy could feel his head somewhat spinning, but tries to steady his stance. But, the consequence of the hit had made him lose balance, enough to be able to send him thrown to his back against another wall.

"Ugh, you bitch!" he yells frantically.

Lei was not an easy opponent though. Having some experience in fights, he does not delay the opportunity to grab her before she can do anything and pin her down.

The young girl squirms at his hold, growing more furious each second. "Get off me!"

Lei does not budge, but lets go to throw his fist again. She manages to stop him before he could hit her again and screams, "I fucking hate you!"

Her eyes turn watery at that statement, "What'd I even do to you, huh? How could you even say that about me? I thought we could even be friends, but you're a fucking monster! I hate you!"

The boy was taken aback. Although, it was not enough to convince his rage to calm. Yet, the situation was now starting to unravel itself.

He could not think straight as all the anger from the words she said got to him. He's never felt this much fury in life, not even when he'd lose to someone lower to him or when his parents would berate him for not meeting their expectations. He couldn't wrap his mind around the reason why he was so mad at this moment. All he could do was let it take over him completely and with that, his fists met her face again.

"I don't care if you hate me, but you started this!"

She struggled under his strikes, but she wasn't going to back down now. "No, you did!"

Everyone was on edge until someone decided to finally call for help. Lei could distantly hear the shout, yet that didn't stop him — it didn't stop both of them.

Simone only uttered "I hate you" like a mantra which fueled the boy's outrage even more and more. However, there's still some rationality to him. He asks — not out of curiosity or interest, but out of the need for an explanation — just why she started coming at him out of nowhere.

"Wait! Why’d even you start all of this? Why the fuck are you mad at me?" he interjects, but she kicks him in the stomach causing him to bend to his knees.

She's too irritated at him to even give an answer. How could he not know? 'He's pretending not to know,' is what she could make out of his question.

After the blows they've exchanged there's no way he didn't know the root of her resentment. She had been outcast from everyone because of him. The past days were horrible for her since no one and not even her friends acknowledged her. It was all because of him.

A few measly words from him and it spread like wildfire. She was the talk of the town, like a deadly virus. Her friends shunned her because of what they heard. Of course, gossip was not odd, but for it to happen to her because he called her an attention-seeker? She thought she was genuine enough to him. She thought that they could even have a connection. But, she was too delusional to see the truth. It still cost her everything.

Liking him only brought her shame.

So, how could he just pretend not to know anything?

"Just fucking die, you piece of shit!" she roars, livid and no longer caring or staying sane.

Lei does not know how to react. Other than the anger he felt, he was starting to get scared. So, out of his anxiety, he tightly grapples her.

Aghast by his sudden move, she tries to wrestle her way out, but he's far stronger than her in this position. She realized that this was the closest she'd ever get to him embracing her, but she was no longer struck with such feelings for her to be able to give this fight up.

As they wrestle, Simone looks around the room for anything that she could grab. The people inside the room were multiplying in number because of their outburst. They were whispering to themselves and she could already imagine just what they're saying.

That didn't matter to her anymore as finally, she got hold of a rod-shaped item from all of her struggle. She holds it up in the air. While the boy on top of her is unaware, she bats his head. Just like that, Lei falls unconscious to the floor.

"Hey, wake up."

A familiar voice rings in his ears. Lei could feel a gentle heat on his face. He felt faint, trying to open his eyes and get up. Was it his cousin who had barged into his room and was ordered to get him up?

"Up, come on! Mom's gonna nag me again if you're gonna be late for this!" it was his cousin who woke him up.

Irritated, he bites back, "Ugh, fuck, I get it! Just go."

Never mind that he had to move. The sun had risen and came another day on this godforsaken planet. Howbeit, it wasn't just any other day though, it was the day he'd go back to his motherland after all.

He sits up and he already has a bad feeling. This was not a foreign feeling to him. There were many instances where he'd be uneasy just thinking about going back. It wasn't like he liked the place he was residing in now, but everything back at "home" was far worse.

An exact memory floods back into his mind. Maybe it's the lack of sleep from rethinking this over and over or the lack of proper nutrition from the loss of appetite, but he felt lightheaded and especially nauseous whenever this happened. That terrible point in time was coming back to haunt him.

"You've been expelled."

Little Lei was confronted with the repercussions of his actions. Not one word did he accept from his mother's mouth, yet she handed him the principal's letter that did prove he had been kicked out.

Rage boiled inside of him as he read his name and the dreadful word "expelled" in the same note. He wanted to throw and break everything in his sight. He didn't even start the fight. How was he getting expelled? Plus, he was wrongly defeated and sent to the hospital. How was this even his fault? He still had to fulfill his academics and what about his sport? It all depended on his scholarship. Hence, he couldn't be expelled. Surely there's an error, yet the awfully fresh piece of paper said so otherwise.

"Listen," his mother was not normally going berserk which was a cause for greater concern. Her mood had changed into a stern one — one that gave him no time to prepare at all, "your father and I have been struggling recently and we can't support both of you and your brother anymore."

What was she saying?

"Things got tough with his job and we can only support one of you. This incident of yours...made it clear to us that this is our last straw with you."

No, he can tell he's still in the hospital and this is just a bad dream. His mother talks nonsense all the time anyway. Of course, this is a bad joke.

Right?

"You're gonna go live with your aunt for a bit until your father and I have settled this out. I've already packed your things. Your father's going to go with you to the airport tomorrow."

No, this was real — horrifyingly real. He couldn't listen, so he tried to close his eyes and cover his ears until she'd shut up. But, she continued to speak the most sickening things and he could still hear it.

"No..." the boy mutters, yet his mother would not back down.

"Lei, listen to me. This is what's best. It's what's best for you."

'No, it's what's best for you,' he wished he could've said.

She continues shakily as if she had a conscience, but she never fails to utter the most appalling shit, "You'll meet so many people and you'll have so many new friends. You'll live a happy life there. You won't make the same mistake because I know you're a smart boy. You've proven that to us many times."

Lies — he knew it was all lies. As a kid, sure, he was easy to manipulate, but he always knew the disgusting intent of those apparently sweet statements.

"No..." his voice more clearer than the first time he spoke.

His mother doesn't stop ignoring his refusals, "You'll be happy, I know you will 'cause you've always wanted to leave here, right? Right? That's always what you've wanted, so we're giving it to you. Please don't be stubborn this one time, Lei."

"No!"

He couldn't carry on reliving this any further. It left nothing, but a bad taste on his tongue, yet that was what he was going to face in a few hours. He'll meet his oh-so-gracious "family" who abandoned him to grow detached in this foreign country and they'll be reunited like the good old days. Oh, how he could just jump in excitement right now if that were the case.

Lei dreaded the thought, but he still had to get up though. This was his choice to move back after all. Well, it wasn't his idea, but he chose to go back anyways. It wasn't because he wanted to see his wretched parents or his brother, this was mainly out of a hunch.

It sounds dumb, yet this was because of a "feeling." He's always trusted his intuition. It had never dulled in all his time rotting here.

This time, notably, it told him to go back. There was something he had to go back for. He had no idea what it was, but the thought of it was what mostly kept him up at night.

It was a feeling similar to vengeance. He knew there was something he left unfinished, so naturally, he has to find out.

With that, Lei finds himself standing on filthy asphalt and inhaling the same polluted air he lived with all those seven solid years ago, staring in front of his brand new hell — obviously, school — in his miserable homeland.

"Fuck..." he mumbles to himself as he enters inside his prison for two damned years, ready to shut down everyone and live in loner paradise.

It wasn't long before the bad feeling he had came back again. It wasn't because of that yogurt he ate this morning or the inadequacy of sleep he had last night or his mother's usual criticisms when he wouldn't do something right since he came back. No, it was because of the noisy crowd of people who were surrounding a certain someone.

He tried to take a look, yet what befell upon him was the repulsive visage of a person he never fantasized about ever meeting again. It was her. The origin of all his problems — it was Simone.

She saw him and he could swear that the shift of her expression was as evident as day. Nevertheless, she didn't want anyone to see, so she talked louder to draw back all the attention on her.

'I see, so this is how you're gonna be. Fine, let's see.' He thought to himself with a resurfacing familiar contempt.

It was clear to him just what unfinished business he had to deal with now. Yes, the cause of his dispassion was this dreary long-halted dispute that cost him everything. This is what he's here for.

Indeed, it was hot. Not like how the sun illuminates the world day by day by its warmth, but like how magma waits to be released from the depths of the earth. A burning hatred that's seemingly irremediable inching to engulf each other whole.