#where i like really desperately DESPERATELY needed it to get outside and get somewhere quiet once or twice a day

[clementiens]

.

[allthelovenina]

Gone girl

Give this man a break.

Summary: you basically triggered his abandonment issues

Warning: MDNI, smut, not sfw.

Sensual, smut, slow burn(I guess? I mean I tried so-)

English is not my first language, I apologize in advance for the grammatical and dictation mistakes.

Two whole months.

No, two months and 4 days to be exact. That's how many days you were gone. You left your resignation on Erwin's desk and left the scouts with no farewell. No one knew where you went to and no one was really concerned. After all, it wasn't unusual for scouts to quit.

No one except for Levi. At first, he was in denial, telling Erwin that he must look for you, that you wouldn't leave just like that and something was oddly off, what if someone forced you out? What if someone kidnapped you? The first few days were indescribable. He felt helpless, desperate and worried. Erwin would talk to him, tell him there was no reason for anyone to kidnap or threaten you, also Hange had seen you leave with your stuff packed in a suitcase in the middle of the night and you told them that you were leaving for a quiet life. He was heartbroken. You left without saying a word to him. He felt stupid for thinking he was special. He felt played and betrayed.

On one hand, he was relieved that you wouldn't be putting your life in danger anymore, that you were more likely to live a long and happy life. But on the other hand, why didn't you tell him? Wasn't he worthy of a proper farewell? Why wouldn't you at least write to him? He didn't admit it, but ever since you had left, he would check his mailbox every day. Desperately looking forward to a letter from you. On his days off, he would leave the HQ to the city, wishing to see you somewhere on a random street. How helpless and pathetic he felt, wandering around the crowded city all day long until his legs gave up. Yep, the legs that belonged to humanity's strongest soldier, the very legs that would be searching countless hours outside the walls would give up after almost 18 hours of walking and carrying the weight of this man's concern and despair. He felt like he lost his safe spot once again, his home, his lover.

He just needed to see you doing fine, that was all. He just wanted to make sure you were safe and sound. He swore to himself he wouldn't be mad or bitter if he saw you in a good state of health, he wouldn't yell and blame you for leaving him with no words. All because he couldn't help but feel like you were in danger.

He never gave up on searching for you but he didn't seem as concerned from outside after a while. To everyone, he was like his usual self again. However, he would be getting even less sleep, lose his temper even faster and barely eat.

One night he had the documents signed, read and summarised. Ready to be on Erwin's desk. He left his office for Erwin's only to find you there, in the corridor. His eyes were wide open in shock for a second and then his uninterested expression came back as he let out a loud sigh. "What the hell are you doing here?"

You remained speechless. You didn't really expect him to be this grumpy and oh if you only knew, he was controling himself. Otherwise you'd know "grumpy".

"I...I'm back."

"Changing your mind so easily is not like you." He was angry...furious yet so sad and also happy all at the same time. You left, you hurt him, made him feel like a fool and there you were standing in front of him looking prettier than ever, making him feel the butterflies in his stomach. You made him furious.

He wanted to cry and ask you why did you do that and selfishly beg you not to leave again, even for a quite less dangerous life. You made him sad.

But you were back! In one piece, you weren't dead and didn't seem to be injured(in a fatal serious way at least), he felt relieved. Your mere presence made him happy.

"I...wasn't really gone, Levi. I was sent to wall Sina for a secret mission. In order to steal some documents from the MP and gain information about their next move. I'm sorry I didn't tell you but that was Erwin's wish."

Betrayal after betrayal. How dare you all? How dares Erwin to take away what was his and convince him she was the unfaithful one? He was just about to storm into Erwin's office and give that bastard a lesson when he felt your arms around his waist and your face buried in his neck.

"I missed you..." you mumbled and it crashed his soul because he could hear in your voice how broken you were. "It was a long nightmare...and you weren't there...I'm so sorry I couldn't tell you about the mission."

Your grip on his body tightened, he could feel your tears moistening his neck leaving it warm and wet. All of that anger gave its place to sympathy.

"I...was really worried. I never disobeyed his orders why would he do this to me?" Levi asked, almost whispering.

"He thought...it would be better for my cover if you were unaware, you know. "

"That's stupid. What about Hange? Did they know?"

"No...they didn't."

You remained quiet in his arms for a while with his hands brushed against your hair. "I missed you too...I was worried sick but ...you're back to me..."

Back to me, back in my arms. My love, my angel, pretty girl. I love you so much.

His words in his mind sounded so different from what he actually said. "You idiot. Don't ever do that again." He pulls you out of his arms to cup your soft face with his calloused rough hands. Giving you the luxury of his soft glare. "Let's go to my room. Erwin can wait for his documents after fucking me up like this. "

*

It didn't take long for him to take you to his room, pin you down on the bed and devour your soft lips. He couldn't get enough, forcing his tongue into your mouth as his hands travelled from your hair to your face and then went lower on your delicate neck. Hell, only if you and him met under different circumstances, you'd make the perfect wife for him with your grace and inner beauty. How much he wished for a quiet life with you in the countryside, but that was no option right now. At this moment the most he could get from you was this. Sticking his tongue basically in your throat, swirling around yours while gripping your hip with one hand your breasts with the other. He needed to breathe, but he could still hold on. He wanted to waste no second of having you. (even on catching his breath)

Until he felt your hands on his chest, pushing him away to catch breath, you were a panting mess. Your hair all out of place, covered in sweat and blush all over your face. Oh, how much he missed seeing you like this.

He started unbuttoning your shirt, exposing your body but didn't take it off. He moaned only at the sight of it and had his lips on your clothed nipples. The friction and the dampness from his saliva gave you a delicious tease. You deserved this; be teased. A merciful punishment from Captain Levi, for putting him through hell and back. Yes, you had no control over it, but in a way, you did.

He moved back on your neck, making sure your neck would be covered in hickeys that looked like a beautiful amethyst necklace around your neck.

"L...let me kiss your neck too."

"No. You don't get to touch me unless I say so."

How cruel of him. "B...but I missed you, let me show y...you baby. How much I m...missed you."

You had a silver tongue that almost got Levi. Almost. But he stood on his ground. "Bad girls don't get their wishes met."

You moaned in desperation but knew better than to talk back. He was impatient and didn't even waste time undoing your bra (which he always had difficulty with) instead he ripped it off. You were surprised by his action, never had seen him like this. He had always been so...reserved but now he just tore the strap of your bra and invaded your breasts. Spitting on them and smearing them on your breasts, pinching your nipples until you begged him to move on to the actual business, only to get a hard smack on them. He then leaned on you and bit them red and hot. The bite marks were gonna last a day or two on your skin. His mouth ran all over your upper body from up to down until it reached your skirt. He smirked. Pulling the waistband down with his teeth halfway, he got up to pull the rest with his hands and get the full view of you from above.

You were so pretty, all flushed and helpless under him, naked. He could still torture himself a little more by making you wait longer.

"Did you touch yourself when you were gone?"

The embarrassment on your face was visible, you hid your face behind your forearms as you nodded. "Speak! Cat ate your tongue?"

"I did." He grabbed your wrists and pinned them on each side of your head. "Look at me when I talk to you, dove. Now answer me again. I'm running out of patience and I might as well leave you like this."

"N...no, please...that's right, I touched myself."

He guided one of your hands to your pussy. "Do it again. Show me how you would do it and tell me every naughty idea in that pretty head of yours."

You wanted to protest, to tell him you had enough of your fingers in the past two months, what you needed was him, but he had already threatened you to leave and your mind was too filled up with lust to think properly so you obeyed him.

Pushing one finger in, your mouth was open in an O shape. Digging in deeper and deeper. "I...would always th...think about y...you."

"Elaborate."

"I ...think about your handsome face...between my thighs and...your red lips on...my clit."

"Is that all you wish for?"

"N...no...I craved for your cock ...but the reality hit me every time that my fingers were not enough...I missed your fingers and cock in me, I missed the way your tongue flicks in me ...please..."

"Add another finger, now."

You swallowed and obeyed, adding another finger and searching for that spot, speeding up while having your eyes locked into his. He knew you found it when you inhaled sharply and moaned.

"Am I allowed to?" You whispered. "Cum all over your fingers. Make a mess." He leaned and kissed your forehead as you were getting yourself off. Then moved on to your ears and whispered "Beg for me." Then he tugged your earlope with his teeth.

"Please! Levi, I want you. Nothing is e...enough compared to you! Please I beg you!"

As you were begging, he noticed how your knees started to shiver, implying you were close. He let out a cruel, evil and short laugh as he grabbed your wrist and pulled your fingers out. You felt empty all of a sudden after being so close.

You looked so confused which he found out so cute. "B..but you said I was allowed."

"And you had promised to never leave me yet you left me for 2 fucking months! Do you think I'm that kind to let you have it all so easily now? Oh princess, it's a punishment if you haven't noticed already. Now get on all fours."

The unbuttoned shirt, though exposed your body and gave Levi as easy access, was still on. You had no intention of taking it off completely but once you did as he had said, you felt his hands were just about to tug up the shirt.

"N...no...I want the shirt on, please."

Levi was confused, it wasn't as if there was something underneath the cloth he hadn't seen already, he loved this position cause he could run his fingertips on your spine and make you shiver and moan.

So of course, curiosity and selfishness got the best of him and despite your request, he tugged it up anyway only to see several new scars on your back. They weren't deep but they implied you had been attacked during the mission. His heart sank. You looked so vulnerable and he just wanted to take good care of you, make you feel good and safe in his arms once again. Who did this? Who fucking dared to do this? When did this happen? Probably one of those nights that Levi was awake, thinking to himself how cruel you were for leaving him like that. How could he judge you and doubt you so easily? He felt like a piece of garbage.

"Is it that bad?" Your voice brought him back to the room from his thoughts. You were looking at him with half of your face pinned on the mattress. "It's not half bad. I was just thinking how to kill the bastard who did this to you."

"Hmm...so sexy when you talk about killing people while we're being intimate. Don't worry they're dead already."

He ran his finger on the old scars. Most of them were small but there was a huge one on your left shoulder blade which was continued to your waist on the right side.

As he was caressing the scar, he asked "Why you wanted to hide them?"

"They are not the prettiest accessories on me and also, didn't wanna concern you."

He frowned. How could you say that? You were soldiers, scars weren't uncommon. He had more than a few on himself which you found sexy. But you didn't see them that way for yourself.

"I actually think they're matching to mine." Levi said.

He leaned on your back, leaving wet kisses on every single one of them. You shivered and he smirked in satisfaction.

His attitude slightly changed, he just wanted to take care of you. Clearly, you'd had it rough already.

His cock was killing him, it's been hard from the start of the session yet he managed to endure it. As you were fully naked in front of him with your shirt gone, he was fully clothed. He unbuttoned his shirt in no time and unzipped his pants, pulling them down with the underwear and taking them all off. He grabbed his cock, swirling the tip around your already wet entrance. You moaned loudly "Don't tease me anymore!" He could hear the pouting in your voice. No smile appeared on his lips but his eyes softened.

His tip, already wet by precum, made its way through your hole. With no rush and slowly, he was halfway in. You were sucking him in so willingly it was as if your body was telling him how much you missed his touch.

He pushed a little further and was now fully in you, filling you up nicely. Your delightful moans sounded like angels singing to his ears. Oh how much he missed you.

"Y...you can move, Levi."

He grabbed you gently by the throat, adding no pressure. Just pulling you closer to himself until your scarred back met his chiselled chest. Once he had your head backed on his shoulder, he left no time to start kissing it so gently. Eventually, he started to move inside you back and forth.

"Ngh...I missed you, Levi."

His hands were on your nipples now, pinching and playing with them. He whispered in your ear "You have no idea how much I wanted you back by my side."

His arms wrapped around your shoulders as he paced up his movement in you. He bit back his moans just to hear yours as he was hitting that spot in you. Your mouth hung open while you were seeing the stars and moaned uncontrollably. As much as he loved hearing them, you were getting louder and louder so he pushed to fingers into your mouth. "Keep it...down...fuck."

Once again, your knees were shivering, if Levi didn't have a grip on you, you'd fall on the bed. Yet, you ran your hand through his hair at the back of yours, pulling it a little. "You fucking tease."

You were both close, Levi took his fingers out of your mouth and started massaging your clit with them. His nubs rubbed against your needy clit which had been begging for attention. He started drawing ghostly circles and little by little, his moves became faster and rougher. You were almost there.

"L...Levi! I'm...close..please..."

"Cum for me baby. I mean it this time."

In less than a second, you made a mess on his cock. He fucked you through your orgasm. Wanted to fill you up so badly. His cock was twitching in you, he almost couldn't believe he was feeling your hot gummy walls around himself again, shaping your insides like his cock.

His grip on you tightened and you knew by then he was going to fill you up in no time. He let out a loud, sexy moan while he shot his seeds in you. You felt so warm inside, he didn't pull out until he fully emptied whatever he had in you and softened.

You were both panting. He slowly pulled out and you felt the cum dripping down your thigh. Your skin was still red and burning from his thrusts. He laid down naked on the bed waiting for you to lay next to him.

"Where are the papertowles? Your blanket it gonna get ruined."

He rolled his eyes at you, the clean freak couldn't care less at this moment he just wanted his lover next to him. He grabbed you by the shoulder and pushed you on the pillow next to him. "I have to wash them anyway." He said.

His eyes were locked to yours once again. Tucking your hair behind your ear which was all red now. He grabbed your hand and held it tightly, brought it close to his lips and left a few kissed on it as he was watching you.

"Don't ever do that shit again."

You smiled, you didn't say anything. It hurt to see him like this, you knew how much you hurt him by leaving without telling him but you were unaware of this. You had no idea he would be this devastated. Perhaps you underestimated his love which made you feel so bad about yourself. Still, you knew you would do this again if Erwin commanded so. You knew there was no place left for emotional bonds in the army yet you fell for Levi. This is the cost of following your heart, to get hurt willingly only to follow orders.

But screw Erwin and screw humanity at this moment you just wanted to have Levi's head on your chest again.

You pulled him close, he rested his head on your chest as you wished as you nuzzled his head. He could probably get some proper sleep in this state after a very long time. He felt his eyelids getting heavy and before he knew it, he was snorting in your arms.

What a day to be alive.

[feelingdozy]

What Once was an Awful Day - Suguru Getou

summary: You get home to be greeted by your boyfriend Suguru, who only has one thing on his mind, and after, you'll be forgetting all about your bad day like it never happened

wc: 2,0k

warnings: 18+ porn w/out much plot, biting/marking & hickeys, fingering, begging, oral (f! receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, light bondage, not really proofread

Today had been the most obnoxious day- the world outside annoyed you to where you swear you could feel the frustration bubbling over- you had to hold back the urges not to yell at people who asked you the stupidest questions or spared you unnecessarily mean glares. Being outside your apartment door made you particularly overjoyed- ready to lie in bed and relax in the comfort of your home with Suguru by your side.

Keys jingling in your hand, you put them in the lock, twisting them accordingly as you opened the door with a creak. To your surprise, your boyfriend stood right at the entrance, assumingly waiting for your return. Your eyes lit up at the sight, taking in your handsome boy.

"Hey babe, how was-" Before you could finish, the door was shut with a loud slam behind you, echoing in the hallway. You paid it no mind as the sight in front of you took all of your attention, not expecting to be lifted off the ground as you dropped the bag in your hands, landing with a quiet thud, accompanied by an embarrassingly loud squeal.

"Suguru?!" Now in a bridal carry, the man escorted you to your shared room in his arms, displaying the result of heavy and intense training. You licked your lips, catching yourself from drooling all over him at the appealing gesture. God damn was your boyfriend ever hot sometimes, especially when he wanted you so bad.

He dropped you gently onto the bed, only a quiet plop being heard as he made work of your shirt after asking, "Can I?".

You nodded, "Mhm", excited to see where this would take you. Suddenly you had forgotten all about your bad day- this was about to be one of the best days of your life- every day with Suguru was.

Once your shirt was discarded somewhere to the side, he kissed down your neck as your head fell back to give him more room, leaving a trail of saliva in his wake. Every time his lips even grazed your flesh, a gasp easily slid past your lips because of how comfortable you were to let him hear your noises, and how he had you right in his grasp. His breath all over your neck made you blissfully sensitive to his every touch, jolting up into him at the slightest of fingertips traveling your body.

He was gentle as you arched into him for more, pulling you in and making you succumb to him- teasing you, he started to get more aggressive. The kisses turned into nips and nibbling, trailing down lower and lower. Tickling you with his tongue, you let out a quiet moan as he sucked a hickey near your breast, then straightening up to see you looking at him with need- you're body fidgety and desperate forehead already a little sweaty with hair sticking in different places. He just loved the sight of you like this- he admired the way he could get you to such a state. You were entranced, soaking in his lust filled gaze.

"Mmm- you okay, pretty girl?" Leaving no room for a reply, he only went back to tormenting you, focusing on the spot that had you gripping onto him for stability. He still had his shirt on, keen on pleasuring you before anything had to do with him.

"Hahh- Suguru, please, stop teasing." Ruthless, he kept on, hands getting relentless and finally groping your tits that he had perked up from the cold and his teeth. The way his canines had bit into you got you riled up- excited to see yourself marked- by him. You'd show it off in the most subtle ways, and he especially loved seeing his work up close and keeping it for his eyes only. It got him painfully hard each time he'd admire you after doing it, unable to stop himself from putting his eager hands in your pants to graze his cold fingertips over your bundle of nerves.

But he'd get to that later, eager to keep up his teasing act. Surprising you, he brought his lips to yours, tangling with each other sloppily, loving the way he was so desperate for you. He couldn't stop the mess that was your makeout session. Holding onto him once again, this time one of your hands had cupped his cheek and the other slung around his neck, not daring to pull him away in the slightest. Eventually he separated the two of you for air, kissing your cheek with the utmost care as he made his way down to your jaw, up to your earlobe, sucking on it ever-so-slightly to get a rise out of you, loving the way you arched up into him.

His body was only able to give you so much friction with the way the man was positioned, so you grabbed his waist and pressed the lower half of his body to be fully against you to where his crotch was working delightfully in your favor, humping you and giving you some sort of friction- you were begging for any sort of attention you could get, even if you had to do it yourself. Mixed with the sweet sensation of more hickeys being made on your skin, unable to hold yourself back, you started to get more vocal- and boy, did that ever start him up.

Now rutting against you, he had to hold himself back from sliding your panties and putting his dick in to continue his mean plan- he could feel his precum staining his boxers already, and you hadn't even laid a hand on his lower region yet. Now at your collarbone, His warm mouth finally made it to your tits once again, his soft tongue licking a stripe to see the bud harden from his touch before pulling it into his mouth. First lightly sucking on it, he spared you no reprieve as he bit down, eliciting more yelps out of you.

His other hand roughly pinched at the other, giving it attention so it didn't feel left out. Before your hand could dip lower into your pants, he had stopped and diverted his attention to a tie he had kept from your work blouse that was somewhere off to the side of the bed. Understanding what he wanted to do, you offered up your hands up immediately, putting them out for him to tie them perfectly together.

"S'that good baby?" he asked, getting an aggressive kiss in return for a yes. Reluctantly, he pulled away, not wanting to get distracted from what he really wanted to do. His head dipped down, and your stomach filled with lustful anticipation. Making quick work of your pants, he pressed light kisses to your lower stomach, making you squirm from his grasp. Knowing you were ticklish only spurred him on, granting you more as you could only sit there and take it, sad attempts at removing his lips by grasping his dark locks and pulling him up and away- it was no use.

Now down to your underwear, his hands found the waistband, pulling them down your legs and seeing the trail of slick you left on them before throwing them aside with your other clothes. You hissed at the cold, but his breath on your thighs made you warmer, and made you hold onto his hair harder with balled fists, eyes fluttering closed at the sensation. Sucking more hickeys into the skin of your thighs, he enjoyed the way you tried to buck your hips to meet his mouth- you wanted anything you could get. And who was he to deny?

Unexpectedly, he licked a long stripe up your cunt, followed up by a finger prodding at your entrance. Not giving you a moment, he pressed a kiss to the hardening bud, the finger easily sliding in because of how wet you were. Tongue circling your clit, you arch into him, moaning out his name- pleading for more. He groans at the way your voice is like music to his ears, your cunt encouraging him to buck his hips into the mattress, getting off on your pleasure as he made sure to take in your blissfully pleasured face.

"Taste so sweet, pretty girl- mm, sit still for me, wanna enjoy this"

No mercy in his words, he flicked the bundle of nerves, eliciting louder moans of his name- music to his ears as another finger entered your cunt with ease. Now he was able to curl them, reaching the spot he knew would have you arching and whining in his hands. Looking down at him, your slick mixed with his spit coated his chin and made you fall back, unwanting to make eye contact- you'd cum on the spot.

"Ahh-! Suguru, mm, please-!" Clutching onto him harder, your legs threatening to squeeze his head- the man didn't mind one bit. Soon enough he's lapping at your delicious cunt like a madman, looking up every so often to see your reaction as your met with his pussy-drunk face. It only makes you yearn for more, so thankful to your lover.

He's also thankful to you as you get louder- making him more vocal in turn. Hitting your g-spot, you're screaming his name when he introduces a third finger, and sucking on your clit harder brings you over the edge. Gasping for air, he doesn't leave a moment's reprieve on your puffy, abused cunt as he keeps at his meal, overstimulating you as your hands try to break free of the tie tightly knotted around them.

After opening you up, his hands move to your thighs, kneading them like dough as he tongue fucks you. He does it while watching you, his boxers coated in his pre-cum when he sees the way your eyes roll to the back of your head in a mix of pleasure and overstimulation. His thumb roughly plants itself at your nub, rubbing harsh circles to grant you another release.

Unable to stop it again, you're brought over the edge, panting as you struggle to clasp his now sweaty strands that fall nicely over his face.

As you're recovering, your vision is so clouded with lust from your orgasms that you can hardly tell he's stripping now- you only come to realize it when his rock-hard cock is being pushed into you.

With one hard thrust, your back in a dreamland- seeing nothing but bliss and stars, he thrusts needily, but gently, into your tight cunt.

"hmmph-hhahhh- so good f'me, pretty girl.." As he said that, he leans down to kiss you, tasting yourself on his lips. Swirling his tongue around yours, you moaned out with every thrust, slapping echoing in the room, sex engulfing every one of your senses.

He muttered quiet praises in your ear, licking your cheek as salty tears fell down them at how full he had stuffed you- his size was nothing to joke about.

"Hnghh- fuck-! Suguru, mmpph!" He kissed you to muffle your sounds, bound hands doing as much as they could to support you by gripping anything they managed to reach- being Suguru's hair again. Making him whine from the sudden pull, it only made his pace faster and more eager.

"Pretty- you gonna cum for me? Please- please cum on my cock- need it" You were rendered unable to form any coherent sentences as his tip kissed and caressed your insides, pleasuring the deepest parts of you. You couldn't stop yourself from tightening around him, hearing his warnings of his orgasm.

"Gonna cum- gonna cum- where-" You left him no other option as your legs tightened around his waist, feeling his seed warm your insides as long ropes spurted out inside you.

"S'good to me pretty, so good- haah- if you keep tightening around me, I'll get hard again"

"Again" His eyes widened as he processed your command.

You didn't have to worry about anything else when you were with him- work was nothing but a tiny disturbance when his dick was rutting into you so good you thought you'd pass out.

[couldyouimagine-that]

Take a Moment

Genre; hurt/comfort, fluff

Word count; 1.8k

Warnings; description of reader feeling overwhelmed, reader having a little doubt as to why Gabriel is helping them so much.

Pairing; Gabriel (Supernatural) x Reader

Gabriel who is absolutely smitten with the reader sees they are feeling overwhelmed whilst researching a case and offers to take them somewhere quiet – comfort and cuddling ensues.

I’m back! I really enjoyed writing this one (I'm rewatching Supernatural at the moment and my love of Gabriel has been rekindled) and I’m considering doing something similar with Lucifer – let me know if that’s something you would want to read. Enjoy!

Masterlist

-

You didn’t even have to say anything for Gabriel to know something was wrong. Castiel was never likely to notice, but the archangel had to forgive him that. His brother wasn’t the most perceptive when it came to emotion. The Winchesters were very perceptive, but they were only human and you were covering your discomfort well. Your breathing was regular and steady, there were no signs of a tapping foot or a repetitive hand movement, or anything that would signal how you felt.

But Gabriel could actually feel how you felt, one of the perks of his true form being an enormous series of celestial wavelengths. It was incomprehensible to you, he was sure, but you understood enough about angels to get the gist. He watched as you sat at the end of the table in the bunker’s library, having put yourself there so that no one would sit down next to you. You had your legs crossed tight at the knee, your arms crossed where you leaned forward on the table. Your posture looked closed off, but there was a mug of coffee by your side and you had been reading lore for hours. The others would assume you had slept poorly or were bored senseless. What that posture really meant was that you were protecting yourself, consciously or not.

Nothing had happened to trigger it, but it was clear to Gabriel that you felt incredibly overwhelmed. He stayed were he had set himself up by one of the bookshelves, one hip cocked against it. He had seen you leave situations like this in the past, when things finally did get too much and you needed some space to yourself. Equally, he had seen you try to tough it out and pretend everything was fine more times than he wanted to count. He truly wishes you knew you didn’t have to, regardless of if that meant you wanted his help or not.

Sam and Dean were sitting far enough down the table that it didn’t seem to be affecting your clear need – or clear to Gabriel, at least – for personal space. Castiel was browsing books along the shelves on the other side of the room, so whilst Gabriel wanted desperately to intervene and help you, he was glad for a moment to think that he wouldn’t need to.

That was until the idiot brothers decided to open their mouths.

“Hey Y/N, did you find anything on that weapon?”

Gabriel would have liked to snap Dean’s mouth shut. You told him that you hadn’t with a small smile, short but not unkind. Gabriel could see the effort it took for you to regain your focus on your reading. Just a few minutes later and Sam was the one to interrupt you, asking for the title of a book you had mentioned to him the previous day. This time it was harder for you to concentrate on your task again. It was when Dean disrupted your work for a third time, asking if you wanted more coffee as he stood and made his way to the kitchen, that you couldn’t take it a second longer.

Your refusal was decisive and your chair legs scraped against the floor as you pushed back from the table. You left the room quickly with a muttered excuse about going to look for a different book. Gabriel took his chance and flew ahead of you, leaving the library without anyone noticing. He was leaning against the wall outside your room when you arrived in a flurry from the speed at which you had been walking. You jumped in surprise when you rounded the corner to see him standing there and promptly tried to push straight past him in an effort to get a moment by yourself.

“Sorry Gabriel, I just need a minute.” Your words were quiet and your breathing had turned heavy. He knew that he would be making things worse for you in the moment, but he also knew he could help in the long run.

“Hey, sugar…” he murmured, voice even softer than it normally was when he spoke to you. “You wanna go somewhere quiet?”

You paused, hand on the door to your little closed in space in the bunker. No windows, not much by way of fresh air, and a whole group of people in the library just waiting to interrupt your alone time. You trusted Gabriel, knew he would never do anything to hurt you. And you desperately needed a break from it all.

He could have jumped for joy when you nodded, but he kept his reaction contained. He offered you a hand, palm up, which you took hold of immediately. The bunker was gone in the time it took you to blink. Instead, you stood in the main room of a sunny villa-like house, all open plan and large windows. Orange sunlight streamed in from a setting sun and to your right, double glass doors led out onto a sprawling patio. Bright blue pool water glimmered from its centre.

Gabriel let your hand slip from his as you took a few steps into the room, looking around with a beautiful if not tired smile.

“Is this yours?” You asked, a hint of wonder in your words that made Gabriel’s chest swell.

“Just a bit of real estate I have over in Cali.” He gave you his classic playful smirk as you looked back at him, amused by his dismissal of such a nice place. “Make yourself at home, sugar. You want a drink?” You seemed to consider something for a moment, rolling the sentence around in your mouth.

“Actually, I – this is probably silly, but can we just sit down for a minute?”

We.

You wanted to sit down with him until you felt better. That was how much you trusted him, how safe you felt with him. Outwardly, he just gave you a smile and sauntered over to one of the couches arranged artfully around the room.

“Course we can! And don’t ever worry about sounding silly with me.”

He held an intense moment of eye contact with you to make sure his message sank in. You took a seat on the other side of the couch and Gabriel couldn’t resist stretching an arm out along the back of it, behind your head. Not touching, but the invitation was there. You smiled to yourself at his less than subtle antics. He grinned like a cheshire cat when you shifted further towards him and rested your head on his shoulder. He slid his arm around your shoulders and pulled you in close, resting his cheek atop your head. You in turn curled into him fully and wound an arm around his neck.

Gabriel didn’t bother to fight the warm feeling in his chest. He felt no need to deny to himself how fond he was of you, instead just enjoying the moment. He felt you relaxing against him physically, but he also felt your mind becoming calmer. His breath shifted your hair as he took in the scent of your shampoo. He had years of experience passing time in the company of humans, but this little display of trust you were putting on meant more to him than a lot of that put together.

His other hand alighted on your hip as you moved closer still, mindlessly seeking comfort. You tucked your legs up onto the couch and the movement allowed you to put more of your weight against the archangel. He wrapped an arm around your waist and you reached your own up over his shoulders. He smiled at you ever so warmly as you tucked your face into his neck, watching your eyes close as you let out a contented sigh. He began to card his fingers through your hair, lightly scraping his nails over the back of your head, and all but basked in the way your head tilted further forwards onto his shoulder.

“You know you can talk to me when you feel like that, right? Or any time. I’m always here if you need me to be.” You tightened your hold on him for a brief moment. “And you can come here whenever you want, just give me the word.”

You leaned back a little at that, catching his eye.

“Gabriel, thank you. Really, thank you, but… why are you doing all this for me?” He rolled his eyes playfully without missing a beat.

“Oh no, the big bad archangel Gabriel looks like he might actually give a crap about some human.” He waved his hands around for dramatic affect before placing them back on you. He then tilted his head forward, narrowing his eyes and raising a brow. “Seriously?” The half shrug you offered had him muttering heatedly to himself in Enochian. “Seriously? Is it really that shocking that I give a damn about you? Why is this coming as such a surprise?” You were planning on not answering that verbally but he refused to let you look away. “Come on, sugar. You must know I care about you by now.” Gabriel’s hand started on a steady path up and down your back, waiting for your answer. You stumbled around your words for a lot longer than you would have liked, still unhappy with what you settled for in the end.

“I – didn’t really realise.”

“You think I bring anyone else here when I can see they need some space to breathe?” He wasn’t mocking, or even upset, he was just being direct.

“I’m surprised you brought me here,” you muttered, very quiet. He didn’t deign to answer that in words, but the look he gave you said come on. You gave a soft sigh of your own. “Gabriel, look. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t realise you cared about me so much, I really didn’t.” He went to hit back, likely with something disparaging, so you tapped his nose to get his attention. The self-righteous expression of how dare you had a grin pulling at your lips. “You can complain about me not realising later, alright? You were a much more calming influence when you weren’t saying anything.” He repeated that back to you, absolutely exasperated by your nerve, but you tucked your face back into his shoulder instead of replying. You felt him shake his head, even as his arms wound back around you.

You knew you wouldn’t have much time left before you needed to return to the bunker, but for the time being, you simply enjoyed your moment of peace.

[toomuchracket]

tan lines (flatmate!matty x reader smut)

part of summer75, alternatively known as "the 69 fic". bon appetit <3

the flat is suspiciously quiet when you get home.

usually, matty's making some sort of noise - singing, talking to himself, or playing while he writes - or listening to something, the TV or the radio or a record. if he's doing none of these things, the sound effects of whatever video game he's into at the moment are usually audible, assaulting your ears as soon as you step through the front door.

but today… nothing. well, nothing but the air con, providing a slight but welcome reprieve from the blistering heat outside.

“baby?” you shout down the hall, dropping your bag and kicking your shoes off. he's in the flat somewhere, because his car and house keys are still hanging from the tuning pegs on the old guitar head you stuck to the wall for that very purpose, but he doesn't reply. brow furrowed, you wander past the bathroom, knocking the door and opening it to find the room empty. “matty, where are you?”

your next port of call is the kitchen, which you do linger in despite its matty-less-ness, just long enough to down some of the apple juice stashed in the fridge. once the heat in your body is alleviated somewhat, you continue on into the living room, where it becomes immediately apparent that said alleviation was futile; matty's there, stretched out asleep on the sofa, softly-heaving chest illuminated by the sun.

and he's stark fucking naked.

heat floods your cheeks, slightly embarrassed to have stumbled upon him so exposed like this - when your brain remembers he's your boyfriend, though, the heat floods… elsewhere on your body, and before you know it your legs are carrying you towards the couch and settling in a kneeling position beside it. you rest your head on matty's thigh, as slowly as possible so you don't wake him, and look up towards his face. as he is in every facet of life, he's a pretty sleeper, long eyelashes lightly brushing his cheekbones and those beautiful lips open in a slight pout, and you're content to just adoringly watch him dream, heart fit to burst with how sweet he is and how much you love him.

and then he moves, shifting more onto his side towards the sun, and sweetness is the last thing on your mind.

whatever he's dreaming about - you hope it's you - has him half-hard, and it honest to god has your mouth watering. muscle memory, you think; one of your personal favourite mutual discoveries about matty in bed is how much he enjoys getting fully hard in your mouth before he fucks it, weaving his hands into your hair and groaning about how pretty you look sucking his dick, and looking at him right now is upping your desperation to recreate it all to an insane level.

yeah, you need to wake him up right now.

still on your knees, you shuffle up further towards that pretty face; one hand comes up to caress it, the side of your index finger satin-soft against matty's slightly stubbled cheek, while the other is poised right over his dick, ready to stroke when your boyfriend starts to stir. voice singsongy and little more than a whisper, you speak. “matty, baby, wake up.”

matty sniffs, eyebrows raising while his lids stay firmly closed. a noise of vague recognition rumbles in his chest, turning into a light moan when you tentatively drag your nails up the length of his cock - when you circle the tip with the pad of your index finger, smiling as you spread the pre-cum all over his head, matty's eyes flutter open with a satisfied hum. “hi, darling,” his voice is scratchy with sleep, and it's really fucking doing it for you. in contrast to the sexiness of his voice, though, his brow furrows cutely. “am i still dreaming?”

“no, sweetheart,” you giggle, leaning in to kiss him softly. “i'm real, see?”

he huffs out a laugh. “feels familiar,” he kisses you, groaning into your lips when you start to slowly wank him off properly. “fuck, feels good.”

“yeah?”

“yeah. thank you,” he beams, and your heart flutters. “what brought this treat on?”

you shrug. “came home to my incredibly hot, incredibly naked boyfriend, and i wanted to make him feel good. why are you naked, by the way, baby?”

“was - fuck, babe, just like that, yeah - was sunbathing, and i didn't want any tan lines,” matty blushes, smiling bashfully while you laugh. “s'pose i was just so content that i fell asleep.”

“and here was me thinking you were doing some new free-use sex thing for me.”

he groans. “don't give me any ideas, sweetheart, especially when you're dressed like that.”

“you like my work outfit?”

“you know i do.”

speeding your hand movement up the tiniest bit, you smile as sweetly as you can muster. “you wanna fuck me in it?”

“christ, you can't just say things like that to me, darling,” matty's hands come up to his face; he shakes his head before dragging them downwards, smiling exhaustedly at you. “s'like you want me to cum immediately.”

“i wouldn't be opposed,” to prove your point, you speed your hand up again, beaming at the whine that leaves matty's lips and the way his hips jerk up into your grasp. “but you have to answer my question first, sweet boy.”

he sighs, gulping before he talks. “wanna go down on you in it more than anything else right now.”

oh.

you hum happily. “shuffle down the couch a bit for me, then, please, sweetheart.”

matty looks confused, but does as you ask. “what for, babe?”

caressing his cheek again, you beam. “so i can sit on your face. if that's alright with you, of course, my love.”

he blinks repeatedly while you keep on beaming at him, trying to compute your words in his groggy brain; suddenly, his lips are on yours, kissing you with the same desperation he's always kissed you with, as if you're on the edge of slipping through his calloused figures like the sand in his sleepy eyes. “underwear off. now,” he mutters into you - then, a somewhat less gruff afterthought. “please, darling.”

“okay,” you oblige as you stand, leaving your (damp) thong in a puddle on the floor as you climb onto your boyfriend and the sofa. “fuck, this is tight.”

“oi, s’my line,” the smile is audible in matty's voice as he tugs you back towards his face.

you sigh, leaning down to take his dick in your hand again. “shut up, babe.”

“gladly.”

before you even have time to sarcastically thank him, your boyfriend's tongue slices through your soaked core. you gasp out some sort of shocked moan, a wanton sound that mutates into a whimper when his mouth finds your clit and sucks on the bundle of nerves; when you take his dick into your mouth, it's as much an act of keeping yourself grounded as it is an act of getting matty off. he groans into your cunt when you deepthroat him, and the sound makes you simultaneously hurtle towards your own climax and diligently focus on getting matty to his. unlike other times you've found yourself in this position with your boyfriend, though, there's no competition - just two people working as best they can to make their lover feel good.

however, if it was a contest, you would doubtless win; matty's hips are already jerking up sporadically, a primal instinct for friction so he can finish. despite the pleasure clouding your own brain, you focus enough to dig your manicured nails into his thigh to subdue him, and he obeys with a whimper directly on your clit. you have to hand it to him, though - even on the very precipice of orgasm, he's dead-set on getting you off, eating you like he hasn't had a meal in weeks and sending shockwaves of ecstasy through you. he pulls back, very briefly, just enough to warn you of what you already know is imminent. “babe, baby, fuck, m'gonna cum, m'gonna cum.”

you stay silent, diligent, aside from a soft hum around his dick and a slight smile; the vibrations from the noise are enough to set matty off, and he spurts into your mouth with a series of whimpers, hips continuing to fuck your throat as he rides out the last of the orgasm. eyes watering and mouth full of your boyfriend, you slide off him with a pop, swallowing his cum and gasping - half for air, half from the pleasure he's giving you now that his sole focus is to make you cum.

and he does just that, embarrassingly quickly for you, that fucking tongue of his making you shake and cry and see stars and soak his face with your release. actually, the orgasm is so strong that you honestly black out for a second - at least, you think you did, because how else would you have ended up curled into matty's chest so soon after cumming, his lips on your forehead and a hand in your hair?

regardless, that's where you find yourself, in the arms of the person who loves you most in the world, both of you spent and sated and so content. there's silence for a minute, save the sounds of east london through the open window and the two of you breathing in tandem, until matty looks down at you with a shit-eating grin on his pretty, soaked face. “so, babe… how was work?”

[ak319]

Your platonic yandere Arthur is my favorite! But idk the exact reader's age. Is it about 12/13? I imagine reader like early teenager. Sorry my English is bad🙏 And I wonder if reader can escape or leave Arthur some time?

💌Thank you so much for reading and the ask! I left the age option open for the reader to decide, but personally, I would say 15-19, while Arthur is 23-26. As for escaping, oooooo!, so, of course, the reader would be afraid to escape as she's pretty scared of Arthur and the fact that she's a bit naive regarding how the world outside practically works since she was restricted mostly from going out, but let's see if she decides upon it when she's a bit mature and with the help of a gang member does do it.

Warnings/ MDNI: not incest, strictly platonic, abuse, restrictions// I don't condone such behaviour

"(Y/N)? Why are you sitting here alone?" You turned to see Annabelle, who sat down on the same rock with a gentle smile.

"Just… like being alone, I guess."

"Yeah, I figured." Daytime was the only time you could at least sit here on this rock, surrounded by nature. Not too far from camp, close enough to hear if Arthur were to return, and yet, far enough to finally breathe.

"Something tells me you’re troubled."

"Pft. Really?"

"Of course. Your mind… it’s somewhere else half the time. Did Arthur say--or do--something again?" Her tone shifted, a flicker of protectiveness flashing in her eyes.

"No, just..." You shook your head, unwilling to revisit last night’s argument. He still thought you were clinging to memories of the past. In his drunken irritation, he’d accused you of being ‘sulky,’ and you still didn’t know what to do with that. Talking back was a problem, and being quiet was, too.

"I see."

"I just want to… escape sometimes. I really do." You played with the hem of your clothes, eyes fixed on the blades of grass beneath your feet.

"What if I say… that can happen?"

Your eyes widened in shock. “W-what? Anna, are yo- are you serious?"

“Yes, I’m serious. I can help you get out of here-”

You shook your head violently, casting a quick glance around. “Shh!! What if somebody hears? Where would I even go? I can’t go to Mrs. Anne's, nor Isla's. I couldn’t risk them being harmed if he found out.” Your voice dropped to a desperate whisper. “You don’t know what he’s capable of, Annabelle… he wouldn’t spare them.” Your voice faltered, memories of his threats fresh in your mind. You could still feel that darkness in his eyes every time he talked about keeping you “safe” and “in line.” It haunted you even now.

"Oh, I know plenty of what men like him do. I’ve been in this life longer than you, darling. How do you think I met Dutch?" Annabelle’s eyes glinted, a sly smile tugging at her lips. "And since I know ‘em, I know how to deal with ‘em. I’ve got people in places who’ll help. I’ve already got a plan.”

Your eyes widened. "What are you-- and you think he won’t find me?!"

“Girl, girl, girl.” She shook her head, adjusting her hat with an air of calm authority. “Arthur may be the strongest in this camp, but he still works under Dutch, and Dutch…” Her smile grew even bolder. “Well, Dutch works under me. Got it?”

You let out a dry chuckle despite yourself. Dutch’s devotion to Annabelle was no secret, he wouldn’t let Arthur run wild through towns looking for you, not with bigger concerns on his mind. Her confidence in holding some power over both men was oddly reassuring, even in your tangle of fears.

“What even is your plan?” you finally asked, voice hushed.

Annabelle’s smirk deepened, her gaze steady. "First, I need to know your commitment. Are you one hundred percent in… or just curious?”

“Depends… on your plan.”

She sighed, giving you a knowing look. “Well, I hope it’s good enough to convince you."

⋆⋆⋆

"Annabelle, what the fuck were you thinking? Do you even know what the fuck you've done!?” Dutch struggled to keep his voice low, fury simmering beneath the surface. His peaceful moment, with the gramophone softly playing and a book in his hand, had been shattered when Annabelle returned alone. Hours earlier, she'd taken you to town, claiming you two were off to get supplies. Now, Dutch was left grappling with the fact that you weren’t coming back.

Annabelle didn’t flinch, her own voice firm, but lower. “I did what was necessary. She clearly wasn’t happy here. And she… she reminded me of Bessie, Dutch. You know damn well how Arthur is with her, how he-”

“I KNOW,” he snapped, taking advantage of her hesitation. “But that’s the damn reason I’m mad, Annabelle. You went behind my back, didn’t consult me, didn’t consult Hosea! She’s his sister, his only family! What Arthur does with her is his business, their business. And you just… dropped her with a bunch of strangers?”

“They’re not strangers,” Annabelle shot back, eyes blazing. “They’re my friends. She’ll be safe with them, safe in a way she wasn’t here. They’ll help her find a job, a new life.”

“Safe?” Dutch’s voice wavered between anger and disbelief. “Annabelle, don’t you get it? Arthur’s not going to care if they’re your friends or the damn President. He’ll tear through whoever he has to just to get her back, no matter what you or I have to say about it. I already got so much to do and-- now I gotta do this? Play such games with my men?”

Annabelle’s face hardened. “Don’t you dare say it’s not my business, Dutch. The young ones here? They’re like our children. She’s my child too, and I’ll protect her how I see fit.”

"Arthur would be-” Dutch paused, inhaling deeply to steady himself. “What about him, huh?! What the hell are we gonna tell him then!?”

“That’s for you to handle,” Annabelle replied, her voice unwavering. “He’ll listen to you, Dutch, as long as you keep him here tonight, keep him occupied. That’ll give her more time. Maybe even let them get farther away.”

Dutch shook his head, staring at her in a mix of disbelief and desperation. “Love, you’ve clearly lost your wits.”

She leaned in, her gaze resolute. “Dutch, will you do it or not?”

Running a hand through his hair, he huffed in exasperation, glancing around as though the answer might be written in the shadows of the tent. “Do I even have a damn choice? Fine. Go and get Hosea.”

⋆⋆⋆

Meanwhile, Arthur strolled back into camp, humming to himself as he exchanged nods with the other members. Some gave him knowing looks, brief nods that lingered a second too long, and others kept their heads down, avoiding his gaze. Arthur walked to his cot to relax before grabbing a bowl of stew, handed to him by Annabelle.

After eating it , he felt a lot lighter and fell dead asleep without realizing.

When he woke up confused and groggy, as always, coffee was the first thing he needed after splashing himself with water. Arthur took a long sip of his coffee, scanning the camp, eyes squinting in the early sunlight as he moved toward your tent. His mind wandered briefly to the odd stillness he’d felt last night, everyone a bit too quiet, too careful around him. And where were you, anyway? By now, you’d be at your usual post, tackling chores.

His steps quickened, a flicker of annoyance stirring as he neared the tent flap, only to be interrupted by Dutch’s bark from across camp.

"Arthur, Strauss has a job for you,” Dutch called, his tone carrying that same uneasiness Arthur had noticed earlier.

Arthur bit back his irritation, keeping his voice as steady as he could muster. “Yeah, yeah... I’ll be with you in a minute, Dutch.” He gave the tent one last glance, a strange feeling creeping over him, almost instinctual, a prickle in the back of his mind that something was off.

As he turned back, he saw Hosea watching him closely, almost too closely, and Annabelle by Dutch’s side, arms folded and gaze darting away as soon as Arthur looked at her.

No, he had to check first. So he did. And when he realized the truth, fury ignited within him.

Arthur stormed over to Annabelle, the one you’d grown closest to, and demanded, “Where is she?”

"Gone."

He restrained himself, fighting the urge to shout at Dutch’s girl. “What… what do you mean, ‘gone’?” His voice came out in a harsh growl, causing Hosea to step in.

“Look, Arthur,” Hosea began, taking a slow breath as he spoke, “we decided it was best for her to have a fresh start, somewhere away from this life… a chance to live freely.” Dutch watched with a tense frown, allowing Hosea to carry the weight of the explanation. He knew this was exactly how this shit was going to go down.

Arthur’s voice exploded, raw and furious. “What the hell does that mean?! I’m asking where is my sister?! I trusted you, people!”

Dutch snapped to attention, immediately trying to calm him down. “Arthur, easy now. Listen to me. You know we would never betray you like that, I would never do that.”

“Then tell me, Dutch! Where. Is. She?!”

Annabelle, visibly shaken, grabbed the back of Dutch’s waistcoat, a silent plea to keep quiet. "Wherever she is , she is happy and Arthur you better not-"

But Dutch ignored her grip.

“Armadillo,” Dutch muttered. At that point, Annabelle felt the bitter sting of dismissal, her plan, her carefully thought-out intentions, cast aside like they held less weight than a feather in Dutch’s eyes. His men, his loyal damn men, seemed to be all that mattered to him, their allegiance prized above all else

“Dutch, no!” Annabelle protested, attempting to cover the slip, but Dutch-led her back into their shared tent, her shouts echoing inside.

Hosea turned to Arthur, trying one last time to mediate. “Arthur--Dutch might’ve misspoken. She might not even be there. This is only a lead-”

“Oh, save it,” Arthur snarled, brushing past him. He was done listening. Hosea opened his mouth, but Arthur didn’t give him the chance. Without another word, he turned, marching toward his tent to grab his rifle and saddlebag.

You’d made a big mistake, one he wasn’t about to let go unanswered.

⋆⋆⋆

Arthur’s relentless search led him to a dusty ranch far off from the nearest town, nestled among the dry plains. Days of frustration and near-misses had only fueled his anger, and now, as he spotted you working alongside the other ranch hands and the way you ran away inside once you saw him , a dangerous glint flashed in his eyes. Without hesitation, he strode up to the main house, his gaze fixed on the ranch owner who had the audacity to hide you here.

When he demanded your return, the ranch owner stepped forward defiantly, shaking his head. “She’s not goin’ anywhere, she works here, on my ranch. You cannot just storm here and take her away!.”

Arthur’s hand was already hovering over his gun as his voice lowered to a deadly growl. “You’ve got about five seconds to change your tune. She’s comin’ with me, one way or another.”

The tension shattered in a heartbeat, and the next sound was, deafening gunshots making you whimper in the closet you were hiding inside. The owner and one of the ranch hands crumpled to the ground, blood seeping into the dust. Gasps and horrified murmurs spread through the remaining men as they retreated.

You were foolish to even hide, what were you expecting? That he would just leave not having luck finding you? He would search every corner if he has to. This wasn't the same as hide and seek, your favourite game to play with him when both of you were kids.

There he stood, his gun now aimed squarely at your forehead making the words of apology, of an excuse, of ANYTHING, stuck at your throat, his eyes as fierce as they’d ever been.

“Get up,” he ordered, voice as cold as steel. You hesitated, glancing at the dead men on the ground, the other workers staring in stunned silence and terror.

Arthur advanced, grabbed your chin and slammed your body against the closet's wall, making you cry at the impact, mostly out of fear instead of the pain. “I didn’t spend all this fucking time trackin’ you down to be left standin’ here. Now, move your fucking legs, I bet you moved them a lot when running away.”

Ignoring your protests, he dragged you across the ranch yard, his grip ironclad and unyielding. His other hand held the gun, to shoot anyone who came in his way.

Arthur’s jaw was clenched tight as he hoisted you over the saddle, securing you with swift, practiced motions as you struggled against the ropes. His gaze was cold, burning with fury and betrayal, every word laced with resentment as he leaned close.

“Ran away for this!?” he spat, voice dripping with disdain. “All I did for you, and you thought this was worth it? Some backwater ranch?”

He adjusted the ropes binding your wrists and ankles as you squirmed and cried, making sure they’d hold, not a hint of gentleness in his touch. He climbed into the saddle, barely sparing you another glance before he nudged the horse forward, leaving the ranch in a cloud of dust.

“You’ll be like this until I decide you’ve learned your lesson,” he said over his shoulder, his tone unyielding. “Get comfortable.”

Every second you’d managed to carve out on that ranch felt like a taste of freedom, something that had slipped through your fingers in seconds. Now, bound and helpless, the realization weighed heavy in your chest. You’d failed, somehow, despite all your attempts to escape, and the dread settled in as you faced the inevitable return to camp. The punishment was far from over.

(AN: Hope you liked it! These days, I have an Arthur fever and absolutely enjoyed reading your guys' responses/asks! More asks to come, God willing!‎ Peace♡‧₊˚)

[yuyuzlilbunny]

Rockstar Princess

inspired by this mingi fit where the pants originally have a fake thong attached to them

paring: y/n(fem) x mingi and very very very tiny amount of wooyoung x san

warnings: dom y/n, sub mingi, use of pet names (princess, baby, mommy, sweetheart), slight degradation, praise, kinda exhibition idk (they are in the bathroom and everyone else is in the room right outside of it), possibly dacryphilia, pegging, anal/butt stuff, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

word count: 1849

side note: thank you cptnhngjng for helping me out with this at 3am

you and san were in the backstage lounge of the club that mingi and his bandmates were playing at tonight. hongjoong had just finished saying goodbye to the patrons of the club, which meant the boys would be coming back any moment now. wooyoung was the first one you saw coming back, jumping into sans arms. then came hongjoong and yeosang, who both went to get some water out of the mini fridge. then last but not least mingi came back stage; he was wearing the sexiest outfit known to mankind. when he sent a picture of his outfit to you earlier, you had almost lost it and immediately thought about snapping the fake thong against his hips.

when mingi finally got over to where you were in the lounge, he lifted you up and gave you a quick kiss on the lips. “hi baby, how was the show?” he asked, setting you back down onto the ground.

“it was super good princess yall did amazing like always.” you said ruffling his messy pink hair making, him smile.

“i’m glad you liked the show, baby.” he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“i also really enjoyed your sexy little outfit you put on as well.” you said making the fake thong snap against his hips making him yelp in shock.

“y/n baby please don’t do that to me.” he whined nuzzling his head into your neck.

“why not princess?” you snapped his ‘thong’ against his hips again, and you hear him let out a weak moan. “do you like that princess?”

he lets out a pathetic whine. “can we please go somewhere more private?” he asked, making you remember that you guys aren’t alone.

“yeah let’s do that.” you see mingi quickly run over to grab a bag and come back, dragging you to the bathroom. the bathroom doesn’t really separate you guys from the others all that much, but at least it’s a different room. mingi set the bag down and locks the door to the bathroom. his hands were immediately back on you once the door was locked.

“i want you so bad, baby, please. i need you in me.” he whined. in him? he wants you in him. what does he mean?

“what do you want, princess?” you question while messing with his ‘thong’ again, making it snap against his hips a few times.

“i- i want you in me please mommy” his head was buried in your neck again you could feel his uneven breath.

‘mommy’. now that was definitely something new.

“say that for me one more time, princess.”

mingi whined into your neck. “please, mommy i want you to fuck me. please, fuck your pretty princess. mommy, i’m already prepped.”

the desperate whine he let out afterwards was driving you insane. and what did he mean he was prepared already? you decided to slip your hand down his pants to find he was going commando. you give his ass a good squeeze, and he lets out a needy moan. you move your hand further, only to find out the prep he was talking about was a butt plug. with caution you moved the plug a little bit, pushing it into him a bit more. he let out the most sinful moan you have ever heard come out of him.

“ohhh mommy! please more, need more.” the noises he was making were so pathetic, so desperate, so needy and you needed more. you moved the plug again this time, slowly moving it out as much as it could with his leather pants still on before quickly pushing it back in. the moan he let out was so loud; you were positive that if the boys couldn’t hear you two before, they could definitely hear you now.

“oh princess,” you cooed. “you’re gonna have to be a little quiet or we'll have an audience.” you said full of fake concern.

“want, i want an audience, mommy.” he whined.

“oh so what i’m hearing is that my little princess is a whore.” you said, grabbing at his waist and twisting the plug simultaneously.

“no mommy, not a whore.” he whined.

“oh really what are you then?” he tried to work himself out of your grasp, but failed when he only ended up pushing the plug against his prostate. “come on, tell mommy what you are.”

mingi looked at you with his cute little pout and teary eyed. “i’m a princess, i’m mommy’s pretty princess.” he whined.

“there you go sweetheart.” you said voice laced with fake kindness. “that wasn’t so hard now, was it princess?” you said pulling your hand out of his pants and releasing his waist from your other hand’s grasp. “i’m going to need you to let go of mommy now so we can get you undressed princess.”

mingi let go of you and immediately started ridding himself of his clothes; his shirt was the first to go, giving you the perfect view of his beautiful stomach. and his happy trail that led into his pants. the pants which he was currently working on removing, but not before you make his ‘thong’ slap against his hips one last time.

once he rid himself of his clothes, he immediately goes to you to rid you of your clothes. he pulls your shirt off and skillfully undoes your bra with one hand (like a pro). he slides down onto his knees, hands grabbing at your thighs, making you hum due to the feeling. his hands slowly make their way to your underwear, and he slowly pulls them down. when you look down at him, your eyes lock immediately; his hands still on your underwear that’s only about half way down your thighs. mingi smirks at you and yanks on your underwear, ripping it and making you gasp. “fuck mingi.”

he looks up at you, eyes full of innocence, as if he hadn't just ripped your underwear in half. you pushed his hands away from you and started to take your skirt off until his hand stopped you. you look over at him slightly confused about why he’s stopping you. “no don’t take it off i want you to fuck while your wearing your pretty skirt.” he looked at you with pleading eyes. “please mommy?”

you pull one of your hands out of mingi’s hold and grab at his jaw. “anything for my princess. just one important question: how exactly am i going to fuck you princess?”

mingi immediately scrambled to his feet, easily freeing himself from your grasp. he quickly went over to the bag he brought in earlier. when he turned back around he had a pink dilido, a strap, and lube in hand.

“damn princess, you really wanted to get fucked tonight.” mingi nodded in agreement; he really did want you to fuck him tonight. he handed you the strap and dilido, and you got yourself ready to fuck your pretty princess. “now princess turn around, we need to get that pretty little plug out of you now.”

mingi immediately turned around and put his hands against the wall to brace himself, just in case. you grabbed the end of the plug and pulled it out in one harsh tug. mingi yelped in pain, but shortly after he immediately whined at the sudden emptiness. “mommy please! put your dick in, i’m so empty.” he whined.

you could help but scoff. “just wait a moment you needy little slut—can’t even wait a second without whining.” you grabbed the lube, squirting a good amount onto your hand to rub onto the dildo.

“mommy please put it in me.” he whined yet again. you quickly spread the lube, getting annoyed at mingi’s whining. “mommy plea-�� mingi got cut off by his own broken moan. you finally got the dilido in him so he would shut up. you grab at his hair pulling, his head back making his back arch. mingi leats out a loud sob.

“is that better princess?” you growled into his ear while pounding your hips into his ass. he couldn’t respond. all he could do was moan, making it so everyone outside the bathroom would know what’s going on. you pull at his hair again “i asked you a question princess and i expect an answer from you.”

mingi sobbed—the pain from you pulling at his hair and pounding into his ass felt way too good. “i said answer me.”

it finally registered in mingi’s head that you wanted him to speak, so he did or at least tried to. “ohhh ye- fuckkk yesss so good mommy.”

you continued to fuck the dilido into mingi as he moved a hand down to his aching dick. you swat his hand away from his dick making him whine. “no princess you don’t get to touch yourself. you’re gonna cum only from mommy’s dick, you understand?”

mingi whined and shook his head in protest but didn’t try to touch himself again. after a few more harsh thrusts, you could hear mingi’s moans getting higher, signaling he was probably getting close. “ohh mommmyyy fuckkk so so uhhh close mommy ohhh please.”

you pull mingi’s head back again so you could whisper to him. “cum for mommy, princess.” mingi let out a loud moan, cuming all over the wall of the bathroom. you slowly came to a stop, helping him through his orgasm. you could hear his incessant breaths as he tried to steady them. you slowly pulled out of him. you took off the strap and dildo, putting it all back in the bag that mingi brought into the bathroom.

you turn around to check on mingi and he is in front of you, on his knees again. “let me help you mommy.” is all he says before he shoves himself between your legs and starts eating you like it’s the last meal he will ever have.

“ohhh god mingi.” you grab at his hair pulling him closer to your pussy. “oh fuck so good princess feels so good.” now you were being the loud one, moaning at the feeling of your boyfriend’s tongue pleasuring you. “oh god fuck mingi i’m gonna-“ before you can finish your sentence you cum all over mingi’s face.

when he pulls away he looks up smiling at you like he hadn't just eaten you out. “god mingi we need to clean your face up.” you said caressing his beautiful face.

the two of you quickly put your clothes back on and cleaned up what you could. you both walked out of the bathroom to see the others. their faces were all flushed red and when you looked down in embarrassment, you caught a few strained pants. mingi didn’t seem to be fazed at all and wrapped his arm around your shoulder and said. “i hope yall enjoyed my girlfriend fucking me we much as i did.”

you looked up at mingi in shock and hit his chest. “mingi you can’t say that.”

mingi looked down at you, “what i'm sure we just gave them all some great spank bank material.”

[oleander-nin]

Horrortober Day 6- Scream(Yandere 2012 Mikey x Reader)

A/N, not important: Gonna be honest, kinda hate this one, but we vibing anyway. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: Kidnapping, being chained up, gagged, dark themes, yandere

Words: 1392

Summary: Mikey really needs to learn impulse control.

The walk home was quiet, the music coming from your earbuds making your ears hurt with a pleasant pain. The loud music cuts off your senses to the outside world, making you completely immersed in your own small bubble. There was no reason to worry after all. This was a safer area, the crime rate going down drastically in the past few years. It was a wonder, but not something you wanted to question too hard. Best not to look a gift horse in the mouth after all.

The shadows cast by the night where the light doesn’t reach don’t worry you, walking past without much thought. You had passed them hundreds, if not millions, of times without incident. This time wouldn’t be any different, there was no reason it should be. Your mind is still in the clouds, your brain following the music you were injecting into your head. The world was nothing compared to what was going on in your head.

You don’t notice the eyes following your movements, the mutant tracking you from above. His face was a soft smile as he watched you, longing and hope embedded in his chest. He liked how carefree you were, even in a moment like this. Completely at ease despite the dangers of the world. He jumps down, staying a pace behind you before taking a deep breath and running up, wrapping his arms around your waist and quickly launching the both of you back onto the rooftop.

He winces as the scream that leaves your mouth, desperately trying to cover your mouth. You flail widely, Mikey turning you around to look him in the eyes. Your screams quiet for mere seconds, your eyes as big as saucers before you start to shriek once more. Mikey falls back when you land a hit to his cheek, letting go out of shock. You scramble to your feet, trying to get away and return to the ground. Mikey’s eyes narrow and he unfurls the chains of his nunchucks, quickly subduing you as the chain meets its target. You crash to the ground, the shock from the chains wrapping around your torso making your head spin.

“Stop struggling,” He says, his voice coated in worry. He quickly moves closer to you, picking you up and situating you into a more comfortable position. He looks hesitant to touch you, hands twitching inches above your skin. “I didn’t mean to scare you, but you shouldn’t yell when you meet people. It’s rude.”

His statement confuses you, your breathing calming slightly right as the mutant reaches over and sticks a small strip of duct tape over your mouth. He watches you carefully, seeing how you start to even out your breathing and go a bit more limp in the chains.

Bright blue eyes stare into your own, the chain around your chest and legs making it impossible to move. The small turtle tilts his head, a bright grin on his face as he scans your expression. You weren’t sure it was even easy to read, the sticky glue of the duct tape forcing your mouth to stay closed, and your face to stay slack.

“You calmed down a bit! That’s good. I’m not planning on hurting you.” The terrapin seems to have not noticed your silent scream nor the nervous sweat on your face, your heart beating quicker than a bullet train. It was surreal, being here with him. Just moments before you were walking home, earbuds in and not a care in the world.

It was terrifying how easily that could be stripped away.

The young turtle leans back, sitting on his heels as he continues to grin down at you. There was a small blush dusting his cheeks, the green skin darker across his face. Unease rolls through your stomach, the duct tape pulling uncomfortably at your lips. His larger hands cup your face, the three fingers pressing uncomfortably into your cheeks.

He scans you again before looking up to the sky, still wearing the ever present grin. “If you promise to be quiet, I’ll take off the tape. I just thought it would help since you couldn’t quiet down.”

You carefully nod, inhaling slowly as to not alert him, but preparing to scream as loud as you can. You needed to get away. His falsely innocuous eyes bored into yours, his thumb sweeping across the makeshift gag. With a quick rip, he tears it off. You hiss in pain, the skin where the adhesive had stuck tacky and sore.

Before you can make another noise, his hand is covering your mouth, muffling all sound that could come out. “See, not so bad huh? I wouldn’t have had to do that if you weren’t so jumpy when we first met. I mean, I can’t imagine your first reaction to be screaming when you saw me. I must’ve just scared you with my awesome moves.”

He chuckles, and you’re reminded of a small child despite his other mannerisms pointing to him being more late teen to young adult. The way he connected your reactions was completely arbitrary, and it was clear he was only seeing what he wanted to.

“I’m Mikey by the way.” He says, as if it was an afterthought, his bright blue eyes still clouded with thought. He seemed distracted, his head moving at each small noise to be heard. You move your jaw slightly, wanting to say something, to scream and alert others, but his hand is still over your mouth and holding back any attempt you could make. His eyes snap to you once more, his other hand clenching by his thigh as his smile grows. “I already know who you are, so you don’t need to try and introduce yourself. I can feel you moving.”

You blink at him, unable to do much else. His eyes meet yours for a couple seconds, boring into your soul and analyzing everything you’ve ever dared to think to do. Nothing you could do in this moment could quell the confusion and fear you felt while gazing upon the mutant, your brain desperately trying to piece this puzzle together.

You jump back when music starts to come from the waistband around his shell, the turtle's face brightening significantly. Mikey picks up the ringing shell, smiling as he hums along with the tune. He glances at the id before picking it up, his voice lowering in pitch as he starts to talk to the caller in Japanese. He talks with them for a small while, glancing at you and grinning brightly before staring off in the distance again. The call ends and he turns back to you, his hand finally leaving your mouth. He eyes you warily for a moment before relaxing, deciding you wouldn’t scream.

“My brothers said I can take you home! Isn’t that great? I meant to ask them earlier, but I was hoping you would’ve been nicer earlier and I could introduce you normally, but then this,” He points to the chains keeping you bound. “Happened. But I can take you home anyway! Isn’t that great? We’re going to have so much fun together. I can teach you how to skateboard, and we can play video games and read comics, and just have so much fun!”

The genuine excitement in his voice does nothing to put you at ease, your muscles tensing as you struggle against the chains holding you down. “Why… What do you mean “take me home”? I’m not… What?”

Mikey laughs, picking you up and jumping down from the roof he was keeping you on, his stance sure and relaxed. “Oh, that’s an easy question! I found you a couple days ago, and Sensei always said to never let an opportunity slip through my fingers… Or something like that. Plus, Leo said it was okay! Gosh, Donnie’s going to be so jealous I got a partner before him.”

The names and information he was giving swirls in your head, bringing more questions than answers to your mind. He continues to talk as he works you into the sewers, his tight hold a warning against fighting back. You’re stuck, unable to do anything but think as he carries you down through the tunnels of the sewers. You wished more than ever you screamed louder when he first came near you.

[imagine--if]

(A/N: The results for my Riddler fanfic poll was basically 50/50 😂 so this is based off of the last issue of Riddler Year One, #6, as I copied the intro to the comic, but I'll work up to the movie too 😊 enjoy!!)

Wordcount: 1.7K

A knock at the door. Silence.

You frown slightly, glancing at the clock. It's late, really late, for anyone to be calling for you. You're not expecting anyone, and you're used to the trouble that comes with living in the middle of Gotham City, giving you every reason not to answer the door and stay quiet until whoever it is gets bored and goes away.

Another knock, sounding a little desperate, five soft bangs on the door's study steel, echoing through your small stretch of hallway and to the main room, where you sit on the sofa, laptop on your lap, scrolling boredly. You stare at the door warily, as if you could somehow see through to whatever drophead was trying to get your attention, before hesitantly raising your voice in answer.

"Who is it?"

Silence again.

You roll your eyes and sigh after a beat of nothing, pushing your laptop off you and onto the sofa, quietly approaching the door and taking a sceptical look through the peephole. Nothing. No one. Just the hard bright light of the dirty stairway and landing of the floor in the apartment block you live in, which snaps off after no motion to keep it alive, and the door opposite you, shut and locked, no sound coming from anywhere except muffled music and arguing from somewhere downstairs, as per normal here.

You go to open the door, but then pause, cautious enough to wait it out for a while, five minutes, ten minutes, before letting yourself open it and look outside. You don't want to be the next poor person who gets robbed or jumped or whatever rank thing you could expect from living down in Gotham, but there's still no one to greet you when your door squeaks faintly as you pull it open, black bristles dragging across the floor from beneath it. You wince slightly as the harsh light blinks back on, revealing an empty landing, empty staircase, nothing but your breaths echoing in the space...

And an envelope at your feet.

Your frown deepens when you go to close the door again and notice it, lying there outside the door, a medium white envelope inked with a messy green symbol of some kind. A question mark, with dashes at its sides, top and bottom, scratching into the paper boldly, no name or address or postmark anywhere, nothing to indicate where it came from or who it's for. But it's at your door, and after a few seconds' inspection and another look down the landing and the stairs, you sigh and pick it up, your thumb sliding under the triangular fold as you close the door with your body whilst opening it.

There are two things sealed in this envelope.

A Polaroid picture... and a card.

You sit down with your eyes fixed on the envelope's contents, laptop ignored at your side, as you take out the card first. It's like some kind of vintage cartoon, a little beaming squirrel holding one nut in its paws, a few others at its feet, a heart around its body. Above it, bold calligraphic text says:

I'm NUTS about you!

Your face screws up in bewilderment and amusement, your eyes flitting over the cheesy sentiment and picture, before you open it up to see contrasting, messy handwriting, gone over a few times to make it readable enough. It almost looks childish.

The rich people want it, wise people know it, the poor people need it, and kind people show it. What am I?

You blink, confused at the sudden question. A riddle? You glance at the question symbol on the opened envelope, before returning your attention to the card.

"Rich people want it..." you mutter under your breath in thought, "kind people- what, love?"

You read the last bit of writing under the riddle, then read it again. And again.

I see you work with the rats, but you don't become one. I see you give the homeless something warm when the city is cold, cold, COLD. I see you trying to tell the police the bad things you know, but no one can hear us. You are an angel in a cesspool of a city... And I will make a heaven for you.

You let out a long, shaky breath, finally looking up from the card in a whirl of confusion, fear and curiosity. Your eyes instinctively glance to the windows, the curtains open a little to show the dreary, dark nightlife of Gotham below, dully glowing streetlamps, some lightbulbs dead or smashed, interrupting the neat lines guiding drivers. You almost expect to see a pair of eyes staring at you, watching you from somewhere.

Who the hell is this person? This was the way they showed their 'love'? A sixties-styled valentines card, with a riddle and a baffling message?

"Working with rats?" You question aloud.

If by rats, they meant the jerks and businessmen who came to the Iceberg Lounge to find clients and friends every other evening, then... well, they weren't wrong. You have to work there to earn enough to pay rent and everything else to make some kind of a life for yourself in Gotham. Not that you wanted to, but it was a last resort, and you steered clear of the infamous Penguin, and that horrible Falcone character, whenever you were there. But you can't help overhearing things to the grabby, drunken, smug people you waitress to there, but at this point, you'd learnt that half the GCPD weren't nearly as credible as they acted, a handful of them involved in the scandals they were brewing at the nightclub, and who else was there to tell without them telling the wrong guy and ending with you being silenced at gunpoint?

As for the homeless, believe it or not, they weren't all off their heads with drops. Some of them were just people trying to survive out on the streets of a broken-down town, young and older people cowering on street corners, some beaten by gangs, others jumpy and aware, ready to run at the smallest hint of danger. It was the ones who were simply too tired to do anything that made you stop in your tracks every now and then, as you walked home from work, before you gave in to your impulses, told them to give you a minute, and dashed into the nearest diner, grabbing something small to eat, or a hot drink to-go, the waiter bored and friendly enough to give you a smile and a nod as you went, the young man who often stayed there scribbling in a little book or typing up work-related things too shy to meet your eye, which was kind of cute, sandy-brown hair barely hiding the flush of his round cheeks, murky green eyes forced to focus on his book instead of looking up.

Was that enough to make you an angel? Really?

A few acts of kindness usually earned you a judgemental scoff, or suspicions of intentions, as no one's were really ever pure. But apparently, it's earned you an admirer, and from the looks of things, one who's more than a little unhinged.

You pick up the Polaroid last of all, and then your breath catches in shock as you stare at it, barely blinking.

It's a guy who's been making moves on you for a good few weeks now, more than double your age, packets of drops making his pockets rustle with thin plastic and his eyes unfocused. A frequent visitor to the Iceberg Lounge, who wouldn't leave you alone after you gave him his first drink of the first night, running drunkenly outside to offer you a lift when you put your arm out for a cab, trying to hold onto some part of the uncomfortably tight clothing you were expected to wear working in a place like the Iceberg Lounge.

He's slumped against a wall covered with some kind of fabric spray painted with the same question mark symbol on the envelope, though the green is blemished with crimson spatter, a rat running across his leg, blurred slightly in the shot. A laptop is in the background, where the ordeal is actually being filmed or streamed somewhere, names and comments too small in the picture to make out, though several unfocused red shapes that are most likely hearts streak up the laptop screen from its viewers. Your stomach twists and untwists into a knot, repulsed and shocked.

They killed some stupid guy... for you?

They killed a person, on a livestream... for you.

The Polaroid slips from your loosened grip, fluttering in the air for a split second before it lands beside your laptop. It makes you blink back into awareness, and you eye the card and Polaroid as if they might jump up at you.

Do you call the police? The GCPD won't ignore you, surely, if it's this level of harassment? If a person has died?

The thought of someone watching you, trying to understand you, almost worshipping you in some twisted way, brings so many thoughts and feelings up that it makes you dizzy, not knowing what to pin down as your reaction to it. Scared? Disgusted? Flattered? Curious?

What if they've been in your apartment? If they know where you live... and with Gotham's measly security, someone like this person could have found a way to break in, pick the lock or something. Is anything out of place? Hidden cameras anywhere?

Paranoia makes a shiver snake down your spine, and you sigh heavily, fingers threading through and out of your hair as you run your hands up your face and past your head.

First, check for cameras. Then, call the police. Right?

Right...

You pick up the Polaroid from beside your laptop, and your eyes flick up to the darkened screen, the small black circle of a camera at its top. Should you put some tape over it or something? Do a deep scan to check for viruses or any weird apps?

Suddenly, the screen flashes brighter, back to life, though you never touched the mousepad, and you flinch. Your eyes widen as the screen glitches and goes black, and you press down on several keys, trying to escape from whatever page it's gone on, power it off, restart.

The screen glitches for a few more moments, and then a green, pixelated question mark between some pointers slides across the screen.

Figured it out yet?

⭒❃.✮:▹ 𝓉𝒶𝑔𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ◃:✮.❃⭒ (message me know if you want to be removed. ghost blogs/dead accs have been removed.)

@misadventures0fdes @junebugp @simestandswithtaylorswift-blog @carley-carley-carley @lostbunn @dragovegogrimborn @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @edwardspumpkinpie @murderbimbo00 @sweetums0kitty @beel-mcburger @cml-san @jervis-tetch-my-beloved @bimboanime @phoenixgurl030 @dangerouslittlefairy @yoyoanaria @yaeyuuki @vinxlsketches @beenz-beenz @ghoulsgraveyard @birds-have-teeth @repostingmyfavs @r3ptiliaaa @for3v3rda1sy @glitterycheesecakegladiator @moonwritesblog @lilyevans1 @httpsunflowersleep @hxney-lemcn @callsigncrash @bokksieu @skateb0red @philiasoul@felicityofbakerstreet @deadlights-darling @ireadandream @tinyryder @kpopgirlbtssvt @truecobblepot @jessicainhell

[juppl]

TWST Silver x reader Hcs

Okay okay it’s been stuck in my head and I really need to just write it out or else my head will fucking implode because I love this beautiful boy wayyyyy too much. Like I imagine a cute little romance where the reader is absolutely heart-struck for Silver.

He could be training outside whether it be by himself or with someone like Sebek, and you would just be there cooing and squealing on the sides.

“I should start charging you with how much you just come here to ogle.” Lilia teased as he looked back and forth between you and his son. You could only respond with quiet yet long set of giggles as you tried to fan the heat away from your face. Your heart quickening it’s pace just at the sight of Silver glancing your way only to return back to his spar.

The times you would quite literally chase after him in the hallways just to give him gifts or to just profess your love again.

“Wait!! Please Silver just one chance I’m begging you!” You shouted with an exhausted tone, the difference between yours and Silver’s stamina was quite apparent as you grew tired after running past only three classrooms. Pure stubbornness and love were the only things keeping your feet moving to try and catch up. This became a common occurrence in the hallways, making it a bit of a jest to some students witnessing the scene. “When do you think she’ll get tired of running?” Deuce asked, “five minutes ago.” Ace sighed.

You’d mope around whenever you lost sight of him or get politely rejected once again.

Grim would wack you repeatedly to get you to focus and not get your tears stained on you work again. “Henchman stop crying while you write, the papers are getting all wet because of you!” “He’ll never love me at this rate…” you sobbed as you began to finish up your class work.

Diasomnia would poke fun at Silver whenever another confession letter (more so a desperate plea) would wind up in his hands again.

“Please please please please please, I’m a wonderful person to be in a relationship with dare I say the best!-”with you listing off the multiple reasons as to why you were, the best. The letters he would sometimes share with his father or even Malleus, sighing as he was always met with their hearty laughs. He continued to read all your letters that came in even if he knew what would most likely be written in them, and dare I say growing to like them. A warm grin appearing on Lilia’s lips as he watched a small flustered smile form on Silver’s, hidden behind an unopened envelope he held.

Your excitement whenever you do get the chance to be near or work with him.

You tried your best to control yourself from physically vibrating with excitement as you got to sit next to Silver at lunch (after pushing Sebek out the way). Though, you did forget to eat your lunch from how much you were gazing at him, earning a few gags from Sebek. “Would there happen to be something on my face?” Silver asked genuinely as her grazed his fingers along his cheek and lips to try and find some sort of food. You could only laugh softly before responding warmly, “You’re just so pretty it’s hard to not just stare.” Your gaze softened as you watched a pink hue grow on his cheeks. This time Grim gagged.

You being bamboozled when Silver is the one to make the first move instead, leaving passerby even more shell shocked.

“You’re… You’re free after this class right? Would you want to go out somewhere then—if it isn’t much to ask of course…” Silver mumbled the last part, his familiar pink tint gracing his cheeks again. In comparison to your face though, you were left completely pale. You weren’t happen to be dreaming again were you??? After a minute to process his offer you shoot to grabbing his hands as you jumped to him with excitement. “Of course!” Stars practically replacing your eyes as steam rose from your overheated red cheeks.

[itsgrimeytime]

Maneater (Part Two) || Rick Grimes (TWD)

Part One, Two

Taglist: @fuseburner @beltzboys2015-blog @gabrielleisalanastan @starkstiless

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration: Christmas Kids by Roar or 'You'll change your name, or change your mind and leave this fucked up place behind. But I'll know, I'll know-'

Summary: You and Rick Grimes had a backstory, one no one knew except you and him. It's one you refused to share, you never really wanted to get into it. All anyone needed to know was you hated the man. When you're in a rough spot, and you could use the shelter the question is... does he hate you?

TWS: Blood, gore, mentions of death, gun violence (just violence in general), family death, identity crisis, a panic attack, disassociation, crying, a touch of abandonment, swearing, grudges, and all things typical of TWD.

[[A/N: THERE WILL BE A PART THREE!! I feel kind of iffy about this one, but I think the story is nice buildup. Just for a more conclusive kind of story. And I tried to make it as realistic as I could.Thanks for reading !!!]]

You still hadn't cut your hair -it had to be all deadends at this point, no matter how heavily you washed it... it still seemed dirty.

It wasn't not on your mind, but you felt like it was a symbol. The longer hair, the torn clothes, it meant you weren't here for long... it meant you would move on, you wouldn't stay.

And yet, each morning, you woke up and chose to stay.

Part of you would say it was because of Carl, you'd missed out on so much -when was the last time you cared for someone so much?

The rest of you, though, knew it was deeper than that.

That's the thing, when you were abandoned that fateful night you weren't particularly guided. But you were. You wanted to belong -to be somewhere where there was a spot carved out for you, where you were missed.

And here it was.

It was here, as Carol came up to your door with an extra serving -not staying any longer than that, she tried so desperately to be in tune with your feelings. Or Maggie would offer her hand with anything -even offering to go get clothes after finding you didn't have anymore. On her tail, Glenn would offer you a place in whatever would come to mind -dinner parties, game nights, just some sort of campfire, anything. Daryl was the quiet one, simply leaning on the outside your porch as you sat on the steps; he didn't say it, but you always found him nearby when the world was too much.

And you hadn't asked for any of it -hadn't even thought to.

That night you don't know why it happened, but it had. It was like a switch, as you sat up straight in your bed. It wasn't like you could sleep anyway, you'd been particularly stuck that night. Memories flooding through your head of times when safety was so far... you didn't even think that it existed.

You were quick to the bathroom -taking your weapon with you, you wouldn't go anywhere without it. And stared.

The mirror was pristine, in a sort of way that made you wonder if it had ever been used. You had the urge to make it feel more lived in, distant flashes to an apartment. It was the first one you'd ever had, it was messy and colorful, and it was home.

Maybe you could make this house like that.

Your thought process was cut off as you detailed the changes in your face -scars and lines where they hadn't been before. It was odd, looking in the mirror, you'd expressly avoided it upon arriving -a dread of how long it had been inkling up your arms at the mere thought of how you looked.

It was an impulse, as your fingers carded through your longer hair -it didn't feel like you. Looking in the mirror, you didn't recognize yourself.

Maybe that was why, you'd begun chopping. Using your blade, which was covered in something you shouldn't be exposed to, probably, but there was something about you that just couldn't stop.

The hair was falling to the floor -spread all along the tile, and it felt like something you couldn't describe as you watched your appearance change. It was a mix of something you'd yearned to be, yourself, and all at once, everything you'd been through came to the forefront.

Remembering your family, the sad smile, and the thrashing of a jaw in place of you. You'd stepped too close, you hadn't known... The others hadn't lasted much longer, stress and broken hearts sent a sort of emotion that they could never get over. No matter how hard they'd tried.

You didn't know when you started crying, as you cut at the mess of hair on your head. The only way you'd even known you'd started was the blur of your vision -your face getting fuzzier in the reflection but at the same time more familiar.

Your scars weren't clear through your tears, and you saw a face you saw in family photos. In the cheesy school photos, you saw that person -not weighed down by things you'd thought would never come.

And here you were, you stopped. Your hair was shorter than before -littering the floor to prove it, and it looked like you again. Even though it was sloppy and there was a red tint for your poor choice of blade, you found someone familiar staring back.

You thought it would soothe everything -stop the sobs that racked your body, the memories that fluttered behind your eyelids.

And yet, as you played with the crooked ends, it somehow made it much worse.

You don't remember leaving the bathroom, much less the house. Your feet lead themselves, down the street and to the doorstep of an unsuspecting house. Initially, you'd been struck with the idea of Carol -she was kind and would help you with ease. But still, you somehow did not end up there.

You knocked.

Instead, you stood at the door of what you faithfully knew to be the Grimes house. It was easy to know which one it was -people circulating all throughout the day, and even more than often it was left unoccupied. Carl was off somewhere and Rick doing something to help Alexandria -the only one left was... the baby.

You didn't know much about her, and no one had taken it upon themselves to explain, you figured Rick wanted to. If he ever had the chance. You weren't sure you wanted to hear.

It was one thing to be confronted with Rick, but Lori? The woman had been one of the sole reasons you were set off, she'd lied to protect herself.

Well, you assumed she was Lori's. You guessed you truly didn't know, did you... did you want to?

Before you could answer that, the door creaked open and there was some part of you that hoped it was Carl. You'd have to explain much less-

He wasn't who you'd come there for, though. You knew that, deep down you knew that.

"What the hell is-" his voice was groggy and sleep-slurred -a pleasant sort of rough, you thought for a second before pushing that far away.

By the time his eyes connected with yours, he'd abruptly stopped speaking -an unsettled shock bright behind his eyes and a sort of worry in the crease of his brows.

"Y/N?" Rick questioned, his eyes trailing to the red-tipped edges and widening, "-Is everythin' alright?"

His hand was extended out like he wanted to reach out but hesitated. It was terrible to hate a good man.

You'd say that was why you started crying again, but you weren't sure. The tears felt as easy as breathing then, the blood dripping down onto your shoulder -your face was probably scrubbed red, and yet...

Without any more hesitation, his arm wrapped around you -ushering you inside, to safety. You hadn't even realized that you were shivering, the tank top and thicker pants were only really suitable for sleeping.

"Breathe," his voice was slow, and reassuring, and there was a part of you that felt scared (that you should run), but it slipped your mind as his fingertips brushed your shoulder -when was the last time you'd been touched?

"You're freezing."

As soon as it came, the touch left as he disappeared around the corner -muttering something close to stay. You couldn't feel enough to move, your mind anywhere except where you were. You felt like you were somewhere else -your life on the line, knives at your throat, guns at your temple, so close-

"C'mere," Rick spoke, hands on a heavy flannel -one you'd seen him wear a few times before.

For once, you didn't argue. The woodsy smell envelops you in a sort of grounding way -a voice screaming so distantly to get away, not him. Anyone but him.

You didn't listen.

He easily guided you to the couch, the living room.... his living room, and you could tell it. Ever so slightly. There was a worn picture in a too-big frame - a family photo, familiar faces, and on the corner of the rug a few toys. They were washed, but still somehow comfortably used -as if the baby had just been playing.

Rick sat next to you -respectfully, with a questioning look in his eyes that only made you think more about why had you come here of all places. He didn't speak the curiosity, merely brandishing a rag, "You mind if I...?"

You exhaled, your hands shaking at the expense of emotion you'd just been chasing, and shook your head. There was something safe here, in the hushed voices and dead silence of the night -even with Rick.

He was careful, scooting on the couch and decisively running the rag over your cheeks -despite tears following still, he cleared the stains. Thumb trailing after, skin-on-skin contact making you wonder once again how long it'd been. You were breathing deeply, watching the focus of his face -blue eyes intent and lips in a purse of determination. He was so close you could see all the differences, all the wrinkles and the bumps of his skin -it had been so long.

And after being sure he'd done what he could, his fingers moved to your hair. Taking the sections between his fingers and wiping away the red that stained there, still a soft touch that you could barely feel.

"There," he finished, still a little off-center with the fact that you'd come here but sitting back to scan over your face -eyes shining in a way you'd seen a few times, "-you gonna tell me why you're 'ere?"

"I don't know," you answered, wiping away at your eyes, "-I don't know why I came here."

"No, not-" he started, motioning to your tears, "-Although that's a good question, I mean why are you out at all? Why are you... It can't be anything good."

You fell silent, wondering exactly how comfortable you could be telling Rick Grimes what you'd gone through. What he'd inadvertently put you through -if he hadn't sent you away would you still be so-

"Nightmare?" he posed, not intimidating -not expecting an answer, not forcing you to speak a word.

You responded, voice hardly there and a bit curt, "Kind of."

Rick was quiet for a moment, before settling on something -almost a debate in his head, "I... I don't know if this is the right time for this, but... I've been thinkin' about it, and I'd like to hear about after I... After I kicked you out."

"What...?"

"I think," he exhaled, brushing his hand over his forehead -like he was frustrated and you stilled at the idea, "-Well, since ya told me you didn't want an apology, I've been tryin' think of a solution."

You didn't respond, but he apparently didn't need you too.

"For you, not-" he clarified, before sighing -seeming to recenter, "-Let me explain it better. You need closure, I can tell. Your shoulders are always hung so low from how much you carry-"

You softened at the fact he noticed that, against your will. There was still something fiery in the back of your head -clawing up to try and get its opinion back in place.

"-and I just thought... Well, what if I took it?"

"You..." you began, a little stunned at the idea, "-Rick, this isn't. That's not fair to you."

Rick replied, a deep regret seeded in his tone, "I wasn't fair to you that day. You know that."

You hummed in thought, the shaking of your hands slowing, and the blur of the world around you dispersing.

He huffed out a breath, a sort of defeat fizzling onto his tone, "I was the reason you were out there, it comes back on me-"

There it was, the heavy-laden guilt -so deeply rooted that you wondered if it had not shown up exactly when those words came out of his mouth all those years ago. There was a part of you that was glad to see it, a sort of twisted, broken person sat at the base of your stomach -agony for no one to hear. Relentless in the revenge of those who started your downfall.

Had he not lost too?

It wasn't quite like forgiveness, the way your mind settled upon it. It was more so that you were equals, in a sort of pain only this world could deal out. Your eyes flickered to the picture with Lori smilingly as beautifully as ever, and the empty space where you imagined she might be.

And that was only what you could gather. What else had he endured? What else had he lived through?

You thought maybe it was something similar to your own tale.

"Rick," you began, your voice was scratchy and your nose runny, but you remained confident, "-you don't have to do that. I think we've both suffered enough."

He opened his mouth to respond -slow and assured like he was choosing his words ever so carefully, "I want to. Really."

You looked at him then, there was something sincere in those blue eyes -something so honest and open and vulnerable. He really wanted to help.

"Okay, we can-" you started, voice soft against the cool night air, "-We can do that."

"Yeah?" He questioned, careful as if you were an animal who would scamper away and you kind of felt like one then. Afraid of the ginger closeness he was offering you, a listening ear. After he...

You exhaled, a big breath flooding through your chest -it was a peace offering, "Yeah."

The silence there was comfortable like the heaviness had shifted -maybe it was still there, but it was different now. You felt lighter already, even just at the idea.

"Hair looks good," he suddenly muttered, a quirk of a smile on his lips and you couldn't tell if he was teasing. The smile biting at his lip didn't help -it was something casual and friendly, something you yearned for.

It couldn't all be fixed in a night, but you were willing to try.

You rolled your eyes, unconsciously smoothing it on your head -a sort of hesitant grin biting up your lips, "Don't push it, Grimes."

[pumpkinspiceeddie]

Cold Beginnings

@steddiemas day 12: Hallmark movie tropes

Rated: M to be safe | cw: alcohol | tags: modern au

Swinging his guitar case onto his shoulder, he grabbed the last of his belongings from the car and prepared himself to walk up the steep hill to the cabin again. This part hadn’t been on the fucking website. But it was beautiful, he had to begrudgingly admit. This writing retreat was desperately needed. The record agency wouldn’t wait any longer for a new album.

Hours later as the sun was starting to set, he looked up from his notebook when he heard the distinctive beep beep of a car locking. Eddie frowned. One of the selling points of this cabin was that there were no other houses around for miles. No way should there be anyone close enough to hear.

He went to the front window but he couldn't even see where his car was parked, let alone anyone else’s. It had been snowing steadily since before he arrived and now there was a thick coat on everything in the woods around him. All of his earlier footprints had been covered over quickly.

After a few more moments of looking outside, he shrugged and went back to working. Maybe he was imagining things. His brain was probably playing tricks on him since he’d never been somewhere so eerily quiet before.

A couple strings of lines jotted down later, he went to the kitchen to throw something together for dinner. He screamed as the back door opened and a blast of snowy wind circled him. Then an echoing scream made him scream again. Big brown eyes stared at him. He took in the red cheeks dotted with freckles and the long eyelashes with snowflakes sticking to them.

“What the fuck?”

“Who are you?”

Eddie stormed over to the stranger, who put his hands up in front of him placatingly, but Eddie scoffed and instead pushed the door shut behind him.

“What, were you born in a barn? And you’re dripping all over the floor,” he admonished.

The stranger blinked at him. “I’m… sorry?” He shook his head quickly before frowning at him. “Why are you here?”

“I’m staying here. Why are you here?” Eddie leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms, sizing up this intruder. He knew he looked intimidating with the tattoos and long hair and dark clothes. This guy didn’t seem very rugged. He was wearing a puffer coat for Christ’s sake.

He pulled in a long breath before excitedly saying, “I’m renting this place this week! Get away from the big city, right?”

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. That had been one of the bullet points on the website. “Uh huh,” he deadpanned. “Well you must have your weeks confused, buddy. Because I’m renting this place this week.”

“No, I don’t think I do. I’ve had this scheduled for months. Maybe you have your dates wrong.”

Eddie smirked at him, sizing him up again. Maybe he did have some fight in him after all. “I talked to the owner yesterday, man. So maybe you’re at the wrong place or something.”

He grumbled as the man set down his duffle bag and pulled his cell phone from his back pocket. “There’s no service here, dickbag. Or WiFi. So that’s not going to help. Why don’t you just-“

“I took a screenshot, dickbag. And yeah, I know that. It was why I picked it, actually. No contact. Here,” he held the phone up for him to see. “Confirmed. One week, December third through the ninth. See the little picture of the cabin?”

Eddie almost took the phone from him in shock, but growled instead and threw his hands up. “Well that’s just great. Let me find all my shit and I’ll get out of here.”

“You can’t!” The man nearly shrieked.

“Now you’re telling me what I can and can’t do?” He said through clenched teeth. This idiot was already grating on his frayed nerves.

“Um. No. But, look, okay?” He pointed out the big window over the sink. Outside it was now basically blizzarding and the sun had fully set. “I barely made it here. Thankfully the girl at the car rental place convinced me I needed four wheel drive. The road up here hasn’t been touched and it’s- it’s like, really really bad. That’s why I’m so late. It took me hours to get here from the city. Now that it’s dark it’d be even worse. We’ll just have to-“

“I’m not staying here with you,” he hissed.

The man took a step back but looked at him determinedly. “It’ll be fine. I’ll take the couch. I’ll stay out of your hair. Maybe the weather will get better and tomorrow we can take my truck somewhere we can get service,” he shrugged when Eddie just continued glaring at him.

“That’s very noble of you…?” He raised an eyebrow at him.

“Steve.” He straightened up and actually pulled the glove off his right hand to stick it out for a handshake.

Eddie chuckled and shook it, squeezing hard enough that he watched with satisfaction as Steve’s jaw clenched. “Eddie.” He dropped his hand and sighed, the bag on the floor catching his attention. “This is all you brought?”

Steve looked down at the duffle and nodded. He only had that and a book bag on his back. “Yeah, didn’t figure I needed much.”

“Alright.” He scrubbed his hands over his face with another sigh. This was actually happening. Fuck his life. “What’s your stance on frozen pizza?”

Steve had stayed out of his way and had slept on the couch. But Eddie was still distracted by him. He had a pile of papers at the dining room table that he was reading over and would make little concerned noises or huff a laugh or sigh.

Rereading the words in the notebook in front of him, he was surprised that they were about big brown eyes and full lips (a helpful ‘dat ass’ scribbled in the margin). He closed it with his own sigh, throwing it on the coffee table and walking over to look out the front window.

Outside, it was still snowing. They’d found a radio in the kitchen last night and the weather report for the next few days wasn’t hopeful. It made the hair stand up on the back of his neck, staying here intentionally alone to get work done was a different vibe than being trapped here with a stranger, even an annoyingly attractive stranger. He wanted to get in his car and take off. Grumbling to himself, he yanked his hair off his neck and up into a bun. All this anxious oppressive energy was making him even grumpier than usual.

Grabbing his notebook and guitar, he stomped up the stairs. Ignoring the head tilt Steve sent him from the table.

Hours later, he had some pieces of a melody and a chorus. Only a million more pieces to go. But he had neglected eating and drinking and he was feeling rough.

He couldn’t hear Steve but he obviously knew he was still around. A part of him wanted to hide out upstairs for the next five days. But his stomach squeezed again and he sighed. He was not the type who could survive a hunger strike.

“Hey, I like your hair like that. And the guitar sounded good.”

Eddie bristled. He looked at the clock on the wall, wondering if it was an acceptable time to drink yet. Fuck it.

“You want a beer?” He grunted as he ducked into the fridge.

“So there’s you, Gareth and Jeff? What’s the other guy’s name again?”

“No one knows,” he said mysteriously. He found himself trying not to smile, actually enjoying messing with Steve after a handful of beers and some swigs of the bottle of Jack he’d miraculously found in a cupboard.

Steve blinked. “You’ve been in a band with this guy since high school and you don’t know his name?”

He shrugged, chuckling darkly and took another swig from the bottle. Steve shook his head. “You’re insufferable.”

“That, Steve, everyone does know,” he said in a conspiratorial whisper, before throwing his head back and laughing. He settled himself further into the couch.

“Somehow it works for you, though,” he shot a sideways grin at him while taking a sip from his beer. He’d only had two, and waved Eddie away when he’d offered the bottle. But it appeared that he was a lightweight. His cheeks had turned red instantly and his eyes seemed glazed. Eddie had insisted he eat more of the pasta and garlic bread he’d thrown together.

“Oh? Because I’ve been so very pleasant to you during this hostage situation, huh?”

“Could be worse,” he shrugged. “It’s been kind of fun. And you’re not as grouchy as you try to be, you know? I like you better when you’re being the real you.”

Eddie choked on the alcohol he had been about to swallow. As he tried not to throw up everywhere, a hand on his chest was pushing him back, straightening him up and he found he could breathe better.

“Fuck. Thanks,” he gasped as he leaned back and took some deep breaths.

Steve watched him intently like he was making sure he was going to keep breathing. He found himself liking this different attention, not having to put on the show or theatrics he always felt like he had to pull around everyone else.

He also realized Steve had moved closer and stayed, his hand hovering even closer between them in case he needed help again. It almost made him want to start choking again. They just sat there for some time, looking at each other until Eddie’s breaths evened out and then it seemed awkward for him to say anything. He memorized the moles and freckles dotted across his face and neck.

When he traced the shape of Steve’s lips with his eyes, he watched them part in a gasp. When he looked up into his eyes again, the full bottom lip was pulled in and bit into and a small noise escaped Eddie. Steve’s eyes dropped down to his lips and something snapped in him.

“Get over here,” Eddie growled, unable to wait another second.

They met in a heated collision of lips and teeth. He cupped his jaw with both hands and held on, keeping him where he wanted as he deepened the kiss. Steve pushed against it a bit, which Eddie found he liked. He allowed him to angle their heads and he gasped as teeth found his bottom lip. He was surprised when a warm tongue caressed over the bitten lip, taking away the sting. Sassy then sweet. Heat pooled in his belly and he wrapped an arm around Steve’s lower back, pulling him closer.

He groaned as suddenly his lap was full of Steve. He brought his hands to his hips to slide him even closer then gave into his desperate desire to grab handfuls of his ass.

Steve pulled away to breathe and he slid his lips across the pair of infuriatingly attractive moles on his neck. Scraping his teeth across his skin and reveling in the little needy noses Steve was making, his own embarrassing noise punched out of him when he was pushed back, not very gently.

“Ed- Eddie,” Steve panted from above him. His eyes were even more glazed over and his lips were red and wet and Eddie started leaning in again. He hadn’t even gotten to bite them. Steve pushed on his chest again, pulling him out of his stupor.

“Yeah? You okay?” He moved his hands off his backside and cupped his face again.

“Yeah,” he huffed a laugh. “Definitely okay. But I’m realizing I’m more drunk than I thought. Uh, more drunk than I’d like to be, to continue this.”

Eddie nodded quickly. “Sure. Of course. Got a little carried away, I think.”

“I definitely did,” Steve laughed. Looking down, maybe just realizing he was still in his lap, he blushed and Eddie helped him maneuver to sit next to him. “But I don’t want you to run away. I dunno, can we just keep talking?”

He pulled him close again, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Not going anywhere. Even if I could.” They stared into each other's eyes for a moment. “Hey, you wanna hear the song I’m writing about you?”

“Oh,” Steve covered his shocked face quickly with a shy smile. “Y-yeah. That’d be amazing.”

Eddie grinned at him, running to go grab his stuff.

He decided on the stairs that this week was going to be a good one.

[scintillasofbeomgyu]

disconnected | c.bg

pairing: choi beomgyu x reader. genre: fluff, yet another f2l bc im trope-obsessed recently. wc: 1.1k. warnings: none. an: i heard this song and it just... felt so beomgyu, i couldn't help myself </3 edit: this has been sitting in the drafts for so long, i’m so glad it’s finally getting out there. as always, thanks for the support 🫶🏻

the air is fresh, quiet and comfortable within your little nook of the city’s botanical garden. a gentle breeze coaxes the warmth of the sun against your skin, and nudges you and your best friend by the slightest inch, as it passes by. you’re curled up the soft blades of grass at the foot of a garden bench, where ahead of you lies a little koi pond that ripples every so now and then, and the arch marking the beginning of the unkempt cobblestone path leading back up to the main route.

your head is in his lap as you thumb through pages that take you somewhere in the heart of cold Pacific waters, aboard a creaking ship filled with vengeful pirates, rum and heart-thundering adventure, when you’re drawn back by the sound of beomgyu’s sighing – loud and dramatic enough to make sure it did the job it was supposed to.

“is something wrong?” you ask, eyes still flowing along the sentences of your novel.

“maybe if you’d give me a little attention, I could tell you.”

you chuckle, then flip a page. as if it were even possible to not pay attention to him. but, you indulge him anyway. “but the main character is at her pinnacle right now, i need to know how they liaise between her blood-thirst and morality.”

you snuggle further into his lap and refocus your attention. a tiny smile starts tugging away at his lips. the way your eyebrows are furrowed makes you look like a blow fish. he had thought so the first time you met, too.

“this is the first time we’ve met in weeks, i’m the only main character you’re supposed to worry about,” he grumbles, closing his manga and putting it aside.

you fight a smile. when you first met beomgyu, you had thought he was an arrogant jackass. but now that you knew him, you knew there was always a little truth in his jokes. maybe he didn’t really think he was the ‘main character’, but he was a little upset that this was the first time you’d met in two months.

you set your book aside and turned over, resting your head in your hands so that you could look up at him. “i missed you too, you know.”

and you did. you’d make it through every week knowing that beomgyu and the garden waited for you. and it wasn’t the same when it was just the garden. it felt like everytime he left he took all the magic with him.

he looked at you, with those eyes that carry so many things they make you feel heavy under their gaze. “i miss you right now. as i’m looking at you.”

you chuckle and clamber into a sitting position, your heart doing somersaults. “smooth, gyu. you’re spending way too much time with yeonjun.”

“we’re going on tour.”

you freeze. then you smile, “that’s great. where to? i hear manila is really pretty—”

“for six months, (y/n).”

his eyes are now desperate. you gulp.

often, you forget that he’s a star outside your little world in the garden. that his friends aren’t only his friends, but the members of his group. that they played at music shows and flew to other countries. that they had a manager and stylists and a team of professional people that followed them everywhere.

that, that magic that beomgyu carried with him he took into studios and onto stages. that, if the city’s botanical garden was even magical at all, he was pretty much a mystical creature.

“it’s good, beomgyu. it really is. it means more people will get to see how talented you all are, and you make them happy.” you reach and place a hand on his shoulder. you chuckle, “you are the main character after all.”

he smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. now he’s looking at you again. it feels like he’s telling you so much, like he’s waiting for you to tell him that you know. and you try and fight it, you do. but before you know it, he’s pulled you into his arms and you’re crying softly onto his shoulder.

when he places his hands on your shoulders and brings you before him, his eyes are wet. “i didn’t want to leave without telling you. without being sure that you know that you’re not allowed to be whisked away by some guy who reads actual books and goes to poetry reads or some shit,” he sniffles. you laugh and he laughs too, then snaps up and shakes your shoulders gently. “oh God. listen. if someone like your book boyfriends show up you better walk the other way, (y/n) I swear to God. I have a built in sensor, okay. I’ll fly right back here and kick your ass.”

you scoff, shoving his chest. “excuse me? what makes you think it’ll be my fault?”

“easy. i wouldn’t be able to blame him. you’re perfect, (y/n). get with the program.”

you face is on fire, but you flip him off and pick up your book.

he laughs with his entire chest and you can’t help but smile from behind your book.

almost as if orchestrated, a stream of golden sunlight sneaks though the leaves and lights up your face. your cheeks are red and your eyes are puffy. your hair is a little unruly, and a slight smile slowly fading on your lips as you start reading your book again. beomgyu’s chest aches.

he had always been sort of impartial to reading. he’d rather pick up his guitar and string together melodies. and when he met you two years ago in this place, he knew why. you, the way you smiled, how smart, kind and fiery you are— the way you make him feel— there could be no better fairy tail, no… what was it you called it? meet cutes? there was no better meet-cute than the person of your dreams giving you the finger for taking their spot in the garden.

he reaches down and presses a kiss to your forehead. his lips linger for a moment, then he pecks your nose and looks into your eyes which are now glazed over with just one emotion. and its only for him.

his lips brush your hair when he whispers, “you were mine from the moment i met you. i love you, nerd.”

scintillasofbeomgyu © all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, alter, or repost in any way.

[vickyyoon]

Your Professor Bang Chan - 3 (ending)

Part - 2 <- here

Genre: Angst + fluff in the end

Paring: professor!bangchan x fem!Reader

Synopsis : after you two somewhat broke the connections, you keeping bumping into memories with him and end up trying to tell him..

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

A/n : thank you all for loving this fic so much but this might be the last one of this series. Hope you find the ending sweet...

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

After that night, you never went back to him. You only had a few weeks left till this year was over and maybe in the future, he wouldn't be your professor.

But you were too hurt to think about that night, you couldn't find the wrong and the right that night.

You left before he woke up and he expected it. He himself wish he had kept quiet, but out of a tiresome feeling of just being used he blurted out the deep thoughts.

You couldnt see yourself the same after that night and so did he. You wondered how easy it would be without him but boy you were wrong...

You enter the lecture hall the same day but you attention was diverted into the huge window. chan wanted to call you out but he was couldnt.

Your face looked dried out and pale. Your lips were white and dead. You're eyes were swollen and you looked tired. You obviously couldn't find peace.

You didn't stay any longer after your classes. You locked yourself up.

Remembering how chan used to take you out on little dates far far away from the city where no one would recognize you, just tk spend time with you.

He gave you what ever you wanted every time. Money didn't have any value when he was with you. On the other hand chan was looking for you because you usually stay after classes. He remembered how you used to buy him little snacks as gifts randomly, you knew what were his favorites more than anyone else.

Some days near the ending of this year you finally head out and open your messages to text him but then you remember you were his nobody.

While at the pharmacy to pick up somethings you spot chan and look away. Something slashed your heart into pieces seeing him. He doesn't notice you until you both end up in front the counter.

You could see yourself from the glass door how bad you looked beside him. You would be hugging him but you couldn't.

He stares at you as you leave after checking out. Hid eyes follow your figure walk out emotionlessly.

You couldn't get enough sleep, even after taking your pills. Usually these nights you would call him and he would bring you food but you were turning sick due to the lack of sleep, maybe it was sleeping with him that you needed desperately.

Chan couldn't focus on work especially when he made you so upset, he felt like he just committed a sin. He really wanted to tell. You that but somewhere in his mind he was ashamed to apologize.

You didn't want to see him but you needed to see him if he was alright or if he was with someone else, something you did without him knowing was look after him when he was outside.

Soon the stress of not seeing you got chan sick, he missed you all day. Mumbling your name sometimes when his fever turns high because you used to rush to him and take care of him when he was sick, not leaving him for a second. You used to tell him your stories, sing him songs, tell him jokes all while holding his hands. He got to know a lot about you when he was sick.

Just the last days before the exam you were experiencing the worst headache of your life. You were breaking down and your head was exploding. You were in the floor bawling and crying with your nose bleeding. Something was wrong but you didn't know.

Luckily your next door roommate heard you and called you an ambulance. Before you knew it you were stabilized in the hospital bed. You had too much stress and it got bad.

" I can say it's very common for students in their final or people who suffered relationship impacts but you should stop for a while."

You knew it was him on your mind that caused you stress but you didn't want to bother him by coming back. You were probably a burden to him.

He gets to hear about your breakdown and your location, he decided to drive there and see you.

Looking at you he couldn't say anything. You were pale and skinny, you were barely alive. He sits beside you and you open your eyes to see him.

He tries to act formal. Like your teacher giving you advice but you don't want to believe that he's calling you that.

" could you pass me that bottle? The orange one." and he stared at your huge table of pills. Pills that deal with your mental health and sleep.

" am I still just a student to you?" you softly asked. He looked down as slowly shook his head.

" then what am I? I hope I'm still somebody in your life." your voice ached but you had to say it.

" a-am I still your channie then? I-if I'm still. Your favorite channie then your still my y/n" his voice was shaky starting to crack. You smiled slowly watching him still avoiding your gaze.

He just apologized when he didn't want to. He really wanted to say it long time ago.

" that was the cause of my stress, the thought of my channie being mad at me. If it's my fault, then I'm really really sorry and if it means loosing my limbs to have you then I'll do it. I can tell you don't want to say sorry atleast say it first." you said and he only wished he didn't make that obvious.

You smile at his red face, he was embarrassed and your hand looked for his but he pushed it away. Surprising you.

"I-I'm sorry. You don't deserve me." he blurted trying to get up and leave.

But you grabbed his wrist " it'll hurt me more if you leave, please." you said as he sat back down.

He remembered when before you passed his exams, he admired your sweet, childlike, innocent and pure behavior from afar.

" if you never gave me that opportunity then I would be lost in studies. I would never find someone like You. I was glad you made the first move but it made me happy to know that you would be mine even for just 3 years." you reffered to your 3 years left in university.

You made sure to not loose him before university. Atleast he wasn't mad at you anymore.

He cried onto your shoulder the entire night, opening up to you about the past few days without you.

The last day before graduation you made him promised that he'll never find someone else after your completion of university. You wanted to wait for your graduation to really be his officially.

[noxexistant]

ai-less whumptober; day twelve

@ailesswhumptober 12 — isolation, sensory deprivation, “Can you feel me? I’m right here.” ↳ the farm, circa 1889 word count; 1.4k

cw; abuse, claustrophobia, mentions of death

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It's cold. So damn cold. Hellishly, endlessly cold.

Oscar is numb. It's dark all around him, pitch blackness, and the cold has sank into his bones to weigh him down like water, stiffened his joints like death does to the animals. He'd long ago lost track of what time it is, and through the stone walls around him has no idea if the sun is still up. If anyone might still be awake.

If anyone still remembers him out here at all.

He'd been asking for it, really. He'd known it was coming. There was nothing else to expect. But Da had started on Mo for something stupid, and Oscar can never stop himself from getting involved when it's his wee brother on the wrong end of Da's anger. Mo's only tiny, and Da is so huge, so cruel.

So Oscar had thrown himself in between them and shouted and protested — and after Da had belted him bloody for his troubles, he'd dragged him out the back door with a big calloused hand around his arm. Kicking and screaming and pleading. Over the hill and to the old shed by the fields; a stout, damp stone structure with no windows and a solid wooden door that bolts on the outside, so small inside that Oscar can just about sit but can't lay down, surrounded on every side with old tools and machinery. Rusted monuments of his father.

And though Oscar had known, had expected, exactly where he'd end up — where he always ends up — he'd still started screaming louder.

"Please!" Oscar had wailed, digging his bare heels desperately into the damp dirt to try and slow the walk. It hadn't worked. His father is a big man. Strong. A farmer. "Please, please, Da, I'll—I swear to God I'll be good, I'll be quiet, you can lock me up inside 'til—'til you need me, I'll clean, I'll look after the babby—"

He knows it's no use to beg Da, not when the man's made his mind up — not ever. But it's an instinct to fight. Perhaps Oscar's only instinct.

All the fight's left him now.

For hours he had screamed, even after the bolt was slid into place with the sickeningly familiar sound of grating metal. He had begged and hammered his fists on the door until his knuckles split, the blood the only warmth available to him, but it's long cooled and gone thick and tacky since. He'd wailed for his father, and then wailed for Ma. Wailed for his grandfather despite every knowledge that he's dead. Pleaded for anyone to come and let him out, come save him, come protect him from the stone walls that seem to be closing in on him from every side despite the fact he can't see them. Can't even feel them with touch, for when he reaches out or moves too far, the metal edges of tools find him first. Too blunt and rusted to be much more than a warning, but what a warning they are.

At least they keep him conscious. Prevent him from tilting too far from either side, even in moments his consciousness tries to leave him, worn thin from exhaustion. Hunger.

On the one hand, it feels as if it would be a blessing to fall asleep, pass the time he's imprisoned here to suffer his penance, but Oscar is all too aware of the risks of not waking up. Perhaps being asleep when Da is finally close enough again for Oscar to make a noise and remind him he's here, and miss his chance entirely. He doesn't want to die in here.

Alone and forgotten. As fitting as it seems for him.

Perhaps half of it is fear for his own mortality, but the rest —

Who would look after Mo?

Da and Ma are both shit at it, probably haven't even fed the kid tonight. Had they put him to bed? Mo ain't good at sleeping on his own, he won't stay in their bedroom unless Oscar is there to keep him there, and then he'll wander off God knows where. He's gone missing countless times before, been found wandering the field or hiding somewhere in the farmhouse or curled up with the animals in one of the barns. Oscar can only wonder where he is now.

He supposes he has the answer to his question when he hears quiet footsteps approaching.

They aren't the heavy stomps of Da's boots, nor the delicate steps of Ma's bare feet. They're bare, but they're clumsy. Young.

"Os?" Morris says.

Oscar swallows hard to stifle a sob.

He'd thought his tears had all dried up with how he'd wailed, but suddenly they've found him again, and they've wound themselves tight around his throat, tighter than even the cold had bound him. He's struck with the desire to hold his little brother, clutch him tight to his chest. For his own comfort or Morris.

"Mo," he chokes out. "You ain't s'pose to be out here."

He wonders what Morris is wearing. Pictures him in his threadbare undershirt and drawers he wears to bed, pictures him freezing in the cold late fall air. Pictures his tiny clumsy feet against the cold, wet dirt.

"Wan'ed you," Morris mumbles. "Can't sleep. M'back hurts, Os."

Oscar's hurts too.

"He hit you?" he asks quietly.

"Uh-huh."

"Fuck. 'm'sorry, Mo."

He hears movement as Morris shuffles closer and must sink down, and the door rattles slightly in its frame.

"Can you feel me?" Morris asks, with all the innocence of a little kid. "'m'right here. Got my—my hand on the door. So 's'almos' like bein' together."

Oscar has to swallow again. Shuffles closer and presses his own palm to the door, where he guesses Morris' might be.

"I can feel you, Mo."

He can't. All he can feel is the door between them and the walls all around him, but it's nice to pretend. For a moment, it almost makes it easier to breathe. But then he thinks a little more, about the fact that Morris is here, and his chest gets tight again. The walls squeeze in.

"Mo," he says, edged with urgency, "You gotta get back inside."

Morris whines. "I don' wanna."

"I know, I know you don't, but you gotta. 'f'Da catches you out here—"

"I don' wanna go inside, Daidí was bein' scary—"

"I know. I know, Mo. But he'll be scarier if he finds you, yeah?"

It's as if he can hear Morris swallow in the beat of silence that follows.

"Yeah," he whispers. "He'll be. Be real mad."

"Yeah. Good. Good kid. So you jus' gotta. Head back inside an' head to bed, alright. Wrap yourself up. 's'cold, ain't it?"

"Are you cold?" Morris asks suddenly, rather than answer.

Oscar can't feel his hands at all anymore. Can't feel his feet, the sensation crawling up his legs like he's sinking into something. His knees are aching like they've been turned to stone, and he feels as if maybe he'll never be able to move them again.

"'m'fine," he lies, and Morris believes him, because what else can the kid do?

"Okay," he says quietly. And then pats his palm in a soft rhythm against the door, a clumsy little game to amuse himself, until Oscar starts patting back. The two of them continue, locked in an out-of-sync sort of rattling of sound, until finally Oscar catches on to Morris' rhythm, and Morris bursts out giggling quietly as they're suddenly tapping in perfect sync to his own made-up music.

Oscar, despite everything, can't help but feel himself smile too.

"Get inside," he tells Morris gently. "Curl up on my side of the bed, 'f you gotta. Okay? Try get some sleep."

"I will," Mo says. Like the good kid he is. "I will. Love you, Os."

God. Oscar swallows hard.

"Love you too, Mo."

Morris' footsteps race away, and the silence that follows is deafening. So all-consuming that Oscar takes to tapping again, just to prove to himself that all sound hasn't emptied from the world, hasn't left him behind like everybody else.

It's cold. It's so fucking cold. And, without Morris, the fear begins to drown him again, but he meets it with a new determination — to stay awake, to survive. Because his baby brother needs him.

And Oscar's not a kid anymore.

[bycalililies]

Love In Distance, a Cloud x Aerith story by Cali Lilies

Aerith Gainsborough peered through the dancing Gold Saucer crowd, sliding a hand across her brow to improve her focus.

“Why does everyone split up whenever we come here?”

In the corner of the group she saw Cid, the jovial pilot, attempt to cut a rug. She grinned.

“At least he’s giving it a go.”

She had little interest in speaking with Cid, at least at the moment. To solve this particular dilemma, she needed someone specific. Someone who really knew her.

Her fingers nervously quaked. The first time the party arrived at the Saucer from Corel Village, it blew by in an instant. She got to know the lay of the place thanks to traveling around with Cloud that night. Wonderment Square, the Chocobo Races, the photo of Jessie outside the theater. Her eyes were still recovering from the visual overstimulation.

Yet, none of those places were her fondest memory; it was the sound of his voice instead, the feeling of that barrier between them starting to crack. She felt her heart beat increasingly faster but as Cait Sith turned up with bad news, she knew their night was over. In the hours that followed, she questioned everything when it came to her heart: Where she stood, what she wanted. Just as she was doing again now.

It was why she needed help. Help that only a four-legged Watcher of the Vale could provide.

“Now if I were Red, where would I be…”

She listed off the possibilities in her head. She was willing to traverse the entire Saucer if need be, but why not try to narrow it down? She knew he wouldn’t be at the Event Square or back at the Hotel…

Soon, her mind settled on a singular spot: The races. Red joked back in Gongaga that he’d love to run against the birds with Cait as his jockey, if they’d ever let him. He liked to watch regardless. He was fascinated by chocobos; she stifled a laugh whenever she’d see him riding one out in the wild.

As she took the conveyor up into the racing lobby, her hands trembled more. Why was she more nervous about this than the fiends out at Mt. Nibel, or the impending journey to the Temple?

She knew her answer; she just wasn’t sure it was right.

“How are the birds?”

She smiled at him as she spoke. He sat facing a throng of chocobos being shown off to a group of eager tourists.

“So energetic,” he exclaimed, voice full of wonder. “I wish we could harness some of it.”

The sound of Red’s natural voice still slightly unnerved her. It was silly, but there was something about his previous manner of speaking that felt so wise. Like there was intention and weight behind every word.

“Do you have a minute? I could go for some of your advice.”

He nodded.

“Wanna go somewhere not as noisy?”

“Is there a place not as noisy here?”

Red laughed, and the two settled on an area a good twenty feet away, straddling the left wall of the room. There was no escaping the constant chatter, but they were separate enough from the louder patrons and the occasional “kwehs” of a bird desperate for attention.

She took a seat, and he rested on his hind quarters to face her intently.

“So it’s about Cloud…” she said with hesitation still in her voice.

His left eyebrow raised a centimeter.

“Is something wrong? I can run and find the others.”

“No. Don’t. The thing is, I think I like him.”

“Really? Consider me shocked!”

She didn’t know how to read sarcasm on his face; luckily, she didn’t need to in order to figure this one out.

“It’s that obvious?”

“You do ask to fight next to him a lot.”

“Yeah,” she blushed. “I guess I can’t help it. Even though I should. Let someone else have a turn, you know?”

He chuckled but remained quiet. He had learned through the journey so far that if he gave his companions room to breathe, they’d eventually speak their mind.

“I wanna go out with him tonight. There’s a showing of Loveless in a couple of hours, and we didn’t get to ride the Skywheel last time.”

“Go for it! You don’t need my help for that.”

“It’s just that … I’m afraid.”

The very thought of that caused Red’s ears to inch back on his skull. Aerith, afraid?

“He won’t say no if you ask.”

“That’s exactly what I’m worried about…”

–

“You can’t fall in love with me. Even if you think you have … It’s not real.”

When she said it, she meant it. It didn’t matter if she loved Cloud or was starting to love Cloud. 

At first, she thought he was someone else. She knew from the moment he fell from the sky that the memories would come flooding back. Did she like Cloud, or did she like him? 

Then, they traveled through Sector 5. Sure, he was moody, but there was a charm underneath the scowls. She loved it when he laughed or tried to flirt, rare as it was. She saw how he looked at her when she walked up in that gaudy red dress for Corneo.

But he couldn’t fall in love with her and no, he shouldn’t get a say in it. She had to keep it at bay. She smiled, thanked him for all his help and vowed to cherish every moment they had. They could love each other, but in another way.

She reiterated it to herself like a mantra when he arrived at the Shinra Building to rescue her, or when they wrestled with fate on their way out of Midgar. Eventually, the reminders turned to lies. 

When she saw him standing below the clock tower, she felt the butterflies she tried to deny. He tried to keep his own feelings low-key, but she knew they were there, slowly bubbling underneath the steely-eyed surface. His feelings. Not someone else’s. What she so vividly feared.

The illusions and the lies flickered away. A reality remained she could no longer ignore. 

–

“I’ve tried to distract myself from how I feel, I really have. I know what we’re fighting against. How important it is.”

Aerith and Red XIII had made their way back out into Park Central, desperate to avoid a slowly-brewing shouting match between bird-betters in the lobby. They ventured up multiple flights of stairs, close to the entrance to Speed Square. From there, they ducked down quietly under a massive decorative palm tree.

“But why deny yourself entirely? You should feel however you feel.”

“It’s just not that simple.” She looked down despondently, her radiant eyes feeling a sudden shade darker.

“It's like I'm drowning in guilt. That I shouldn’t get to feel this way. That I’m selfish.”

“I know I haven’t known you that long, but you seem like the least selfish person I know. Remember when you stayed up with me after I got sick from eating that meat in the Grasslands?”

“Oh, how could I forget,” she said with a laugh, before turning serious again in a matter of seconds.

“I just know my actions could hurt other people, even if I don't mean to.”

-

Zack.

She used to think about him by the hour. Now, it varied. He’d done nothing wrong and here she was, thinking of someone else with a buster sword. Someone wearing similar clothes.  How hurt would he be?

At first, she thought it’d be a lot, but with every footstep out of Midgar she started to know more and more of the real Cloud, as hard as he was at times to find. He wasn’t Zack, and she wasn’t replacing him with some carbon copy of his personality.

Zack would understand. He wanted her to be happy. Time passes, and people evolve. That’s okay.

Tifa.

She knew there were feelings there dating all the way to when she was little. Tifa told her as much! She already felt bad enough saying what she did about the clock-tower date in front of her. (Sure, it was barely a date, and they were so rudely interrupted.)

Tifa was wonderful: Strong and powerful, but with a delicate and kind interior. She was shy, quiet. A surprising contradiction. Any guy would be lucky to have her. Aerith saw the way Rude from the Turks looked at her, not that Tifa would be interested … or that it would be a good match at all. 

She never wanted Tifa to think she was openly pursuing someone she cared about. Fate had already placed the party in dozens of dire situations; this was among the most cruel. She never expected to have these feelings. It started fun, and maybe a little flirty. But now? She thought about him the moment she opened her eyes to the moment her head hit the pillow. Tifa often slept in the same room, mere feet away; Aerith wondered if her ritual was the same.

The Planet. Sephiroth. 

Sometimes it felt like there were two choices put before her: Save everyone, or follow her heart. She would never choose the second; she couldn’t. But why couldn’t she have both? Why not at least try?

–

“And then there’s the biggest problem of all…”

Red started up at Aerith intently, working to process not just her dilemma, but all of its various complications. She had put far more thought into this already than he’d ever considered.

“I don’t even have to say his name, do I?”

“No.”

“I want him to know how I feel, but I know what comes with it.”

“Him feeling the same?”

“Yeah, and if he does, all of it could hurt so much worse.”

Aerith looked past the tree and around the corner, just in case anyone was closing in on their vicinity.

“Have you felt any memories come back since we left Midgar? Any visions?”

“No. Can’t say that I have.”

“Something bad is going to happen. The Whispers can’t take that feeling from me, no matter how hard they try.”

She took a deep breath, summoning the courage to continue her thought.

“The closer Cloud and I get, the worse it will be if I go. If something happens to me.”

“Well, does something have to happen to you?”

She nodded.

“It might, and then what? Cloud may need to save the planet, and if he’s spending his time thinking of me, will he be able to?”

Red rose up on all fours, and paced in a half-circle around her as she crouched down.

“You have immersed yourself in quite the quagmire,” he said in his serious voice, giving her a playful grin at the end. She responded with a faint smile, knowing he was trying to make her feel better.

“Gramps used to tell me that there can be love in distance. That you can be thousands of miles away and still feel them at your side. It’s how he cared for me while still focusing on his work. I think it’s how he cared for a lot of people.”

He stopped pacing and faced her head-on.

“We’re going to be here overnight, so why not take advantage? If you don’t, Cloud may never know what that love feels like at all.”

“And if I go…”

“He’ll still feel you at his side. He may even feel you more than if you were here and still quiet.”

He then spoke as softly and sincerely as he could muster.

“You’ve talked about embracing moments as long as I’ve known you. I think it’s time you take your own advice. It’s one date. Tomorrow, we can all be heroes and save the Planet.”

“And tonight, I can just be Aerith with Cloud.”

He grinned, accidentally exposing his sharp front teeth.

“Out of everyone, why did you come to me for advice? I’m hardly the most experienced.”

She patted him softly on the back.

“Because you know what I was, and I know who you were. We’re both searching for the parts of us that we forgot.”

–

Aerith never spent much time thinking too far ahead. Back in Midgar, there was always the risk that someday, Shinra would take her back. Now, there was Sephiroth and a sinking feeling of doom she could not escape.

One night at the inn in Cosmo Canyon, Tifa asked her what she wanted to do when all of this was over, before explaining her dream of re-opening Seventh Heaven with new cocktails inspired by her adventures. Aerith said she’d visit, but when it came to plans of her own, she found herself drawing a blank.

“I … I don’t know. I’ll figure it out when I get there, I guess.”

In the days since she ruminated on an answer. She saw Sector 5, she saw Cloud, and she saw the church. Did she see another date? A kiss? A wedding? How far did she want to take this? In her heart of hearts she wanted all of those things someday, with a fancy dress and flowers as far as the eye could see.

When was that day? Where was that day? Sealed away within the corner of her mind, entertained by a version of her who was not always around to share in the morning.

If I can’t have those things, what do I have? I have now. I know what I want. Why let Dream Aerith have all the fun?

She eagerly hopped down the stairs from Speed Square, waving to Barrett as he walked up towards the arena.

“Where are you goin’?” he bellowed.

“You’ll see! Working on a surprise.” She hurried along, and she could hear Barrett yell “well, don’t let me stop you!” from behind. She could have used the Fast-Travel Moogle, but she still embraced the lights and sounds humming in all directions. The commotion reminded her of the slums and she welcomed it.

Maybe he’ll remember me no matter what happens, but I want him to remember all of me. Not just the smiles on the surface.

She made a beeline to the entrance of Event Square and hopped on the conveyor.

I keep saying I’ll tell him someday. Sure, I could promise myself to tell him how I feel tomorrow or next week. But if I do it now? There is no reason to look for tomorrow, and there are no promises to keep. I won’t need them.

“Two tickets to Loveless, please!”

She practically shouted it to the counter attendant, who, as he pulled out the tickets, came to a startling revelation based on her physical description.

“Oh! I have been instructed to give these to you for free, along with a message from Dio: ‘A friend of the Saucer is a friend to me! Relax, and enjoy some of the Saucer’s finest entertainment before your battle in the morning.’”

As she walked away, another attendant standing to the side beckoned her over.

“Miss! Did you know? There’s a songwriting competition tonight. You can have your moment in the spotlight, as your song will be heard by all in attendance at tonight’s show.”

“Wow.” Her eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Absolutely! Entries close in an hour and a half, so you better get to work.”

“Ok! I’m on it.” Almost instinctively, she bolted out of the Event Square, tickets in hand. She’d never written a song before, let alone in such a terrifyingly-short amount of time; luckily, she thought she had an idea…

–

The upside-down receptionist at the Ghost Hotel was kind enough to offer a pen; Vincent tracked down a sheet of paper in seconds. He liked him; he didn’t ask many questions. Maybe he didn’t care for answers.

Now, where to write a song…

Could she go up to her room? Maybe, but there was no time to waste.

As she took a seat near the stairwell and uncapped her pen, messages echoed through her mind. There can be love in great distance, just as there can be miles between those mere inches away. Her words were the catalyst to hold them together.

Aerith felt all of her fears relax as she clenched onto the parchment, and began to lovingly write the first words.