#//My next reply should be better quality

[dxfiedfxte]

Pre-Plotted Thread || @tacitusauxilium

It had been a long and painful journey, ever since that one night on the rooftop of the dorm way back last April, his life had never been the same, and for good reason. How does one try and return to living a perfectly normal life again after finding out you had powers that no one normal would ever get, fighting creatures that only you were capable of fighting, let alone literally saving the world and preventing the apocalypse from happening.

All were very good points, but the bigger question of everything was: How could he just lay here and accept his fate? -- an unfair destiny that promised him nothing but death -- and after everything he'd been through with his dear friends, only to be made a sacrificial lamb that would give up his life for the greater good. Minato knew what he'd be in for the very moment he signed that contract.

That was until he found out what the end of his fate had promised him, destined to be a heroic sacrifice and become stuck in limbo forever while he would have no but choice to watch his precious friends grow up, and live their young adult lives, maturing into adults without him. At the start, he understood his fate, but now, at this very moment, as he lays there, floating in this eternal abyss of darkness within where he would be confined to nothing more than a statue that stopped Nyx from breaking out and bringing the world to its final days -- it was a fate much worse than death. Knowing very well that he would never be able to see them again.. it broke his heart.

There was no way he'd allow this to happen, Minato couldn't stand the thought of being without his friends, being denied the chance to live his life to the fullest, high school had been a wonderful time in his life, but even he had future ambitions, things he actually wanted to do with his life, he wasn't going to accept this fate, no, he would never accept this fate.

Darkness.. all around me I can't see a thing... Everyone.. No.. it can't end like this... I WON'T let it end like this..

Millions of thoughts began to occupy his mind, so many more thoughts came to rise, filling his mind further and further with life, his calm mind becoming more and more restless with increasing thoughts before eventually, his mind could handle anymore, the distress of it all, caused a small crack to form on the statue, and upon seeing that, Igor quickly told Elizabeth to go to Minato, before his thoughts would become so great, that is would free his soul from the seal completely and render it useless, which would undoubtedly bring upon the end of days all over again.

Suddenly, a familiar voice speaks to him, shining a light down into the darkness that seemed to nearly swallow him whole, after carefully listening to the voice speak, he began to recognize whose voice it was, it was Elizabeth. It appears that the cards are working in your favor Your pleas have been heard, and you may ease your fears For it seems that fate has decided to smile upon you after all My, how exhilarating! If you truly wish to take control of your fate Then you must do away with the full extend of your power For changing fate, always comes with a price. Sacrifice your power of the wild card And your fate, and future, shall bud anew.

A golden contract appears in his hand, the paper being in his hands emitting a light that began to glow, illuminating his entire surroundings as he reached for the glowing pen, the moment he signs his name, the contract closes, and everything around him becomes a bright white, and a sparkling tarot card is suddenly pulled from his chest, the next thing he hears as the light began to surround him. I accept the contract. Take hold of your fate, and forge your own path with your heart as your guide. I look forward to seeing what happens next On this brand-new journey.

As Elizabeth's voice fades out, the bright white lights around him begin to wrap around him, and in a quick flash of white. Grey eyes slowly open, and he's met with the ceiling of a hospital he was all too familiar with, moments later, he takes a breath glad to be breathing life back into his lungs again, it worked, just when all seemed lost -- he was grateful to Elizabeth for giving him this second chance.

[{ 🦋 }] - "...I'm alive. Then, it worked!" The second he's fully conscious, it's there when Minato finally realizes that there was someone beside him, slowly turning his head to the side, he's met with a sleeping Fuuka, who seemed to have fallen asleep holding his hand. Reaching out with his free hand, he begins to give Fuuka a gentle shake on the shoulder, her small frame making it easy to shake her enough to hopefully wake her.

[{ 🦋 }] - "Hey, Fuuka-Chan. Fuuka-Chan.. you awake?"

[drluvsick]

𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞? — 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚

sanemi wants to impress you, so he turns to his cooking skills. NOT PROOFREAD.

word count : 684

“make her a flamboyant meal, she’ll love it,” tengen confidently said, “take it from me!”

“why should i be taking advice from you?” sanemi growled, “i can deal with my own problems.”

“clearly not, if you haven’t asked her out yet.”

“it’s none of your business. get your drama addict ass out of my face.”

“well, she’ll never like you with that attitude.”

sanemi grumbled under his breath, cursing him for making sense.

he left the conversation after that, taking a walk for some much needed alone time. 

his words echoed from earlier, “make her a flamboyant meal, she’ll love it.”

“…she’ll love it.”

would you? from him? now that he thought about it, his cooking skills weren’t too shabby. if he tried hard enough…

he set his plan into motion. 

knock. offer breakfast with him under a disguise of “making too much food”. hopefully make you happy. that was the plan. 

he was regretting this immediately as soon as his fist made contact with the entrance. as he got ready to dash out, you slid open the door—newly dressed in your hashira outfit. 

“so pretty.” he thought to himself before snapping quickly into his usual resting face. 

“oh, sanemi, what a nice surprise! i was about to have breakfast if you’d—”

“actually, i’m here to invite you to breakfast,” he cut you off out of nervousness, “i made too much this morning, so i was wondering if you’d like to join me.” sanemi’s gaze turned elsewhere as he felt his face heat up. he couldn’t believe that his words came out that smoothly. 

your eyes turned mischievous. everyone knew that you and sanemi liked to mess with each other on the pettiest things, and this would be no exception. 

“oh? are you sure you just made too much, or did you do this on purpose just to spend some quality time with lil ol’ me?” you suppressed a giggle at his involuntary flustered expression. 

“yes, dumbass. i wouldn’t just go and make extras for you willingly.” he spat out in defense. a big fat lie. 

“you know, too much lying’s not a good thing to practice. glad to know you care,” you replied casually, closing the door before taking your place next to him.

“wha—?!” his face was tinted red, a shade that suited him nicely. “oi, whoever said that i cared about you?” 

“love, you can’t hide shit from me.” you knowingly smiled before taking a bento box from him. “so, where are we eating?” 

you were going to be the death of him. 

romantic places always set a romantic mood, or at least as romantic as you could get with your back to back banter with sanemi. i guess you could think of it as your very own love language to him. 

sanemi would never admit it out loud, but he loved these moments with you. moments where you’d be yourself with him instead of that prim and proper attitude at hashira meetings and such. 

he loved your voice. your laugh. your presence. your personality. he loved you. 

“you’re not half bad at cooking, but i bet i could do better.” 

“be thankful you’re getting free food from me,” he growled back, although softer than what he’d usually sound to others. 

after a few seconds, a soft smile graced your features. “thank you, sanemi.” 

his face changed from surprised to a smile matching yours. “you’re welcome.” 

a stray cherry blossom fell on his head, a soft delicate thing contrasting to the roughness it landed on. you gently brushed it off before tucking some hair behind his ear. how cheesy. 

you immediately stood up after, picking up your empty box as sanemi mirrored your acts, albeit lethargic after what had happened. 

you glanced at him, stacking yours on top of his to reuse. “thanks again! it was delicious.” 

he had only a moment to process your words before you tiptoed forward and kissed him on the cheek. then you rushed away as sanemi brought a hand to his rough cheek and malfunctioned. 

you were squeezing his heart in the best ways possible.

overluvsick | please do not repost, translate, and/or claim my works as yours !!

[verinarin]

How Ratio handles his reckless partner during a mission

I wrote this as a character study to better understand and illustrate how he treats people he respects and trusts (*´꒳`*)

So fluffiest fluff ever; in Ratio’s standards ofc

Please tell me if you guys want a part 2 of this ٩( ᐛ )و

Part Two ψ(｀∇´)ψ - Part Three (о´∀`о)

Support me on Ko-fi ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

“I often wonder how does the IPC’s HR department handles the recruitment process,” he sighs as he walks towards your body slumped to the floor as a result of your trademarked clumsiness

He stood there beside you waiting for you to sprung back to life like you usually do “How rude, for your information I aced my test,” you huff as you dust off your hands

“Is that so ?,” he replies candidly, he continues to leave you behind without much thought, he knows you possess some qualities that’s befitting for a investor but still you’re too clumsy and reckless at times

Hence why the higher ups assign him as your supervisor or so to speak, he acknowledges your lack of experience as well as your potential that’s why he agreed to be your supervisor

But he didn’t sign up to be your babysitter….

“Wait up would ya?,” you whine as you quickly jog to be by his side

He tilted his head to the side, studying you from afar to assess any damages on your body from the fall earlier “Time awaits for no one,”

“Please do think before anything else, stop making a fool out yourself while representing the IPC,” he continues his statement as he paced himself to be slightly slower for you to catch up

You huff feeling a little bit dejected by his statement but it’s the truth and from this past year of working beside him, you knew he always have your best interest at heart, well even though most of the times he verbally bullies you

“Yes yes of course Mr. Ratio,” you smile as you walk beside him, you notice that he slowed down his pace earlier, it made you smile to know that behind that rude demeanour he does care a lot

He steal a glance at your expression before resuming to look at the road ahead, he can’t help but to feel comfort in knowing that you didn’t seem to take his words to heart

He always finds it hard to express his truth towards others because to be frank the truth hurts, yet the pain itself is a important element to achieve improvement, pain used as a motivation of sorts

Most people deemed his truthful nature to be harmful yet you’re astoundingly adept in his true nature, you easily read between the lines and see his objective clearly

“Can I ask you something ?,” his sudden inquiry surprises you, it is usually you who do the asking, you deem this as a pleasant surprise

“Sure go ahead,” you reply casually while masking your excitement, he rarely does this so you’re ecstatic

“I know you’re both emotionally and intellectually intelligent, but I can’t seem to grasp why you’re so reckless at times,” he smiles as he ask this question, he’s mostly likely to remember a gamble you took a few weeks ago

Well granted you almost lose your life by gambling your life away in a literal sense to gain a dictator’s trust towards the IPC, but at least you won

Ever since that stunt, Ratio seems to respect you more although afterwards he berated your gamble for two hours straight

“Audaces fortuna iuvat,” you reply as you stare at his face, his merely scoffs as he took notice of the philosophy behind your statement

In a sudden trance he leans down towards your face, ardently reading through your flustered expression caused by the sudden close proximity “Fortune favours the bold, that’s very true to yourself,” his voice deepens as it is drenched in sultriness

Well this is an uncharted territory between you both-

He then leans back towards his previous position, smirking as he relish in your dumbstruck expression, he gently strokes your hair as a sign of acknowledgement something you didn’t knew you enjoyed before

“Now then we should get going, our next meeting is due in approximately 13 minutes,” he stated as he retracts his hand away and leaves you behind yet again but this time speechless and flustered

“H-hey !, what was that about ?,” you huff as you try to catch up with him, not knowing that he’s currently blushing himself underneath that cold exterior of his

“What have I done..” he mutters as he covers his face with his alabaster head

[judasofsuburbia]

something something caretaker! steve gets hired by rockstar! eddie to look after and live with wayne. everything is set up over the phone after eddie was given his resume so eddie's never physically seen the guy but he has enough positive reviews and references that it seems like there is anybody in this world that doesn't like this steve harrington fellow.

wayne munson soon becomes his #1 fan.

wayne keeps telling eddie all about steve in their weekly phone calls. anytime eddie tries to steer the conversation into something actually about wayne's health and wellbeing, wayne manages to involve steve. says that steve's blushing face is real handsome while steve rolls his eyes and laughs to himself across the room.

"you should come home on your next break," wayne says.

"i'm planning to."

"steve really wants to meet you," wayne says with an infliction.

"well, shit, wayne. from how much you gush about him, i'm excited to meet your new boyfriend too," eddie teases.

"oh hush, you. my casanova days are over. you, however, could use someone good."

the next break eddie has, nearly six months after steve starts working for the munsons, he arrives at nearly 11pm. he's quiet as he sneaks into the house he bought wayne years ago and nearly shits himself when he sees steve hanging out on the couch watching TV. he drops his suitcase to the floor, jolting steve out of his trance.

"oh god, i'm so sorry!" steve rushes to say as eddie clutches his chest and tries to steady his breathing.

"steve, i take it?" eddie laughs breathlessly.

"yeah, hi," steve stands from the couch and holds his hand out. "nice to finally meet you."

steve steps into the light as he does this and eddie's taken aback by just how handsome he is. oh fuck, wayne wasn't just messing around. eddie takes his hand, firm and strong, and shakes it.

"sorry to jumpscare you like that," steve smiles and his eyes twinkle in the low hallway light.

"no, i should've prepared myself," eddie says. "someone hasn't been in the house either than wayne or i in....well, ever."

"don't worry, i'll try to keep mostly to myself as you two have quality bonding time," steve replies sheepishly.

eddie shakes his head. "you don't gotta do that. you're more welcome around us than anyone. i owe you so much for looking after him."

steve smiles. "you already sign all my paychecks."

right, yeah. eddie's technically this guy's boss. eddie's never really thought of it that way before. that means any plans eddie's monkey brain had in the last thirty seconds about flirting with the handsome caretaker is out the window. it wouldn't be appropriate. eddie slouches and gives steve a tired smile.

"i'm gonna turn in. see you at breakfast?" eddie asks, hopeful despite his conflicting internal monologue.

"be prepared for oatmeal," steve jokes. "it's the only thing he wants for breakfast nowadays."

eddie scrunches up his face. "you don't have any poptarts or anything fun stashed away somewhere?"

"depends. do you like brown sugar cinnamon?" steve asks.

"love it," eddie whispers.

"then yeah, your breakfast fate can be a little better," steve nudges his elbow and it lights up eddie's skin.

"thank you caretaker steve," eddie salutes and turns heel to his teenage bedroom.

over the next few days, eddie goes out of his mind. he watches steve just do his job, the job he hired him to do, and he's still going crazy over it. how steve prepares for everything, accidents and things eddie couldn't even predict. spoon feeds wayne if his hands are too shaky. jokes and messes around with him like he's family. wayne's eyes keep drifting over to eddie's when steve isn't looking, a smug little smirk on his face.

"it can't happen," eddie seethes when steve leaves the room. "you're what's important here and i need him to stick around."

"and i need you to stop moping about the country, getting your heart broken every other week," wayne retorts. "steve's a good boy. he would treat you right."

"we don't even know if he's gay," eddie grumbles.

wayne gives him an unimpressed look that makes eddie bark out a frustrated laugh. "take a look at his bedroom, kid. you'll have all your questions answered," wayne advises right before steve returns.

"jeopardy time?" steve asks, hands already on wayne's wheelchair handles.

"eddie is gonna beat us both," wayne claims.

"that so?" steve beams. eddie is glaring daggers at wayne.

"he's full of useless facts," wayne jokes while eddie throws up his hands and steve laughs joyfully.

eddie falls for steve more and more as the week goes on. he tries his best to restrain it, tries his best to never be alone with steve. catches himself from checking steve out (especially in his daily running outfit, god) and swallows flirtatious lines that nearly escape his mouth. it's hard to say no when steve invites him to watch a movie or hang out with him while he cooks dinner but he does. eddie has to be coming off like a total dick at this point but it's for the best.

steve is out running an errand so eddie finally decides to snoop only a little bit. opens steve's bedroom door and smiles at all the decorations. sure enough, there is a little bisexual pride flag sticking out of the pen cup on his desk. eddie is admiring framed photos of steve and some kids along with little handwritten camp postcards on his corkboard when steve enters the room.

"anything interesting?" steve jokes from the doorway.

"shit!" eddie yells, clutching his chest again like he did the first night. "fuck, i'm so sorry."

"don't be," steve shrugs easily. "it is your house after all. i snoop your teenage bedroom all the time when wayne asks me to change the sheets."

"still, i shouldn't be invading your privacy," eddie says with an apologetic face.

steve walks carefully over to where eddie is standing. "i don't think there is much privacy between us where wayne is concerned," steve says quietly with a kind smile, leaning up against the desk.

"i'm sorry about him," eddie groans, rubbing his hand over his chin. "he is a little pushy about my love life."

"no, i'm sorry that he's weird about us. i swear i called you handsome once and he has never left it alone since," steve admits with a small blush.

eddie's eyebrows raise. "you think i'm handsome?"

"are you kidding me? you got this whole," steve gestures in a circle, "rockstar bravado going on. hard not to admire the show."

"well, you've got a show i admire too," eddie admits, inching closer.

steve huffs, looking down bashfully. "do i?"

"mhm. smart, genuine guy with a heart of gold. makes wayne's days better. lights up a room. probably rescues cats from trees and saves drowning puppies," eddie smiles.

steve tilts his head from side to side. "i may have rescued a cat before but it was stuck under my little brother Dustin's porch."

"see? heart of gold," eddie repeats.

steve exhales deeply, twisting his mouth. "i wasn't sure if you liked me."

eddie reaches his hand over and touches steve's hand on top of the desk. steve looks up shyly to eddie's sympathetic face. "i didn't want to-- there's a power trip here, you know? like you said, i sign your paychecks. i'm not about to pull out the moves and make you feel like your job is at risk if you aren't into it."

steve nods before slowly rubbing his thumb over eddie's.

"and if i am into it?" steve whispers.

"well i--" eddie stutters.

"can i kiss you?" steve asks quietly. eddie's not sure he's ever been asked in his entire life.

eddie nods. when steve's lips touch his, it's all over. any pretense of keeping his feelings undercover blows up like fireworks underneath his skin. eddie feels as his resolve sparkles and cracks away into the air. he encourages steve to keep kissing him by pulling in his face closer. steve sucks his bottom lip in between his own when his watch beeps.

"wayne's meds," steve whispers.

"old bastard," eddie jokes. "watch a movie with me later?"

steve bites his lip and nods. "i know just the couch."

[lunardragon00]

The Boy is Mine (Yunho x Reader)

Eternal Sunshine Masterlist

f-boy!Yunho x College student!Reader

The boy is mine Watch me take my time I can't believe my mind The boy is divine

Y/N sighed as she walked into the crowded lecture hall, clutching her books tightly to her chest. College life was a whirlwind of assignments, parties, and the occasional drama—most of which seemed to revolve around one person: Jeong Yunho.

Yunho was known across campus for his striking looks and notorious playboy reputation. With his charming smile and confident swagger, he had managed to break countless hearts, leaving a trail of love-struck students in his wake. But Y/N was different. She wasn’t about to let some smooth-talking heartbreaker get the best of her.

“Hey, Y/N!” Yunho’s voice rang out as she took her seat. She glanced up to see him leaning against a desk, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Hey, Yunho,” she replied coolly, not bothering to hide her disinterest. She knew his type all too well.

“Party this weekend at Sigma house. You coming?” he asked, sliding into the seat next to her. His proximity sent a ripple of excitement through the room, but Y/N remained unfazed.

“Maybe,” she said nonchalantly, flipping open her notebook. “Depends on my workload.”

Yunho grinned. “You work too hard. You should let loose a little. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. His persistence was oddly endearing, even if she wasn’t about to give in easily. “I’m sure you would. But I’m not interested in being another notch on your belt, Yunho.”

“Ouch,” he said, clutching his chest in mock hurt. “You wound me, Y/N.”

“Good,” she retorted, her smile widening. “Maybe it’ll teach you a lesson.” Yunho rolled his eyes and was about to make a retort, until the professor walked in to the room. Yunho lets out a defeated sigh and walks to his seat, leaving her on her own. 

Y/N wasn't new to his behavior. She had known him since their freshman year, which had been a little over 2 years ago. She couldn't deny that he wasn't attractive, because he was, undoubtedly so. With his fluffy brown hair, wide puppy dog eyes, to everyone he was tall, dark, and handsome. For the few interactions she'd had with him in the past, he was actually pretty fun to hang out with. To be honest, if he didn't have the reputation with women that he did, she would've gone out with him a long time ago had he asked. 

But now, things were a bit more complicated. Y/N had always been taught to not tolerate bullshit, no matter who it was coming from. She was a very head strong person, she never relied on anyone for almost anything. Some people admired her for that quality, some saw it as her down fall, which she could see it being a bad trait. So imagine her surprise when Yunho started to approach her more during the day. 

While she was used to his presence, seeing that they ran in the same social circle, she wasn't used to him pursuing her. He was good, she'll admit that. Offering to walk her to her dorm, holding her bag or books for her even if it was only one, even gifting her flowers on her birthday last month. It was sweet, but she wasn't stupid. She'd heard the stories multiple times from a multitude of people. How he'd sweep girls off their feet, sleep with them for a period of time, and then drop then and go ghost. 

As the weeks went by, Yunho’s advances continued, each more creative than the last. From surprise coffee deliveries to playful notes slipped into her textbooks, he seemed determined to win her over. And while Y/N enjoyed the attention, she wasn’t about to let her guard down.

“You’re relentless,” she said one afternoon as they walked across campus. Yunho had offered to walk her to her next class, and despite her better judgment, she had agreed.

“I know what I want,” he replied, his eyes locking with hers. “And I want you, Y/N.”

She shook her head, laughing softly. “You don’t even know me.”

“Then let me get to know you,” he said, his tone sincere for once. “I’m not as bad as you think.”

“Alright,” she stopped walking and turned to face him. "prove it then. Prove to me that I'm not just another game to you." She challenged, her gaze steady. 

“I will,” he promised, a determined glint in his eyes. He reached down, trying to hold her hand but Y/N quickly turned back and continued their walk. 

"Oh come on," Yunho groaned, a light laugh escaping him. She turned around to face him again, continuing to walk backwards. "What did you expect Yunho," She laughs. "you've got to earn my affection." 

Yunho’s grin widened. “Challenge accepted.” He sped up to catch up with her. When he did, he gently nudged her shoulder with his. "Fucking tease." The sound of loud laughter echoed through the parking lot. 

Over the next few weeks, Yunho's approach shifted. Gone were the grand gestures and flashy attempts to win her over. Instead, he began to show up in the little moments, offering quiet support and genuine companionship. He listened when she talked about her day, remembered the small details she mentioned, and respected her boundaries without question. He’d leave a cup of her favorite coffee on her desk in the library with a simple note: For a hard worker. He’d text her reminders about study group sessions and offer to help with her assignments, but never in a way that felt overbearing or intrusive.

One day, Y/N was sitting in the campus café, buried in her textbooks, when Yunho slid into the seat across from her. He placed a neatly wrapped sandwich and a bottle of water in front of her.

“You’ve been here for hours,” he said, his voice gentle. “Thought you could use a break.”

Y/N looked up, surprised. “Thanks, Yunho. You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” he replied with a shrug, his eyes sincere. “You’re working hard. Just thought you could use some fuel.”

She took the sandwich, her heart softening slightly. “Alright, you get points for this one.”

As the days passed, Yunho continued to prove himself through his actions rather than words. He showed up for their shared classes on time, participated earnestly in group projects, and even began to attend study sessions he previously avoided. His presence was steady, and his demeanor was genuine.

One evening, after a particularly grueling study session, Yunho and Y/N found themselves sat on a bench overlooking the campus garden, Yunho turned to her with a thoughtful expression. “Tell me something about you that no one else knows.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his sudden curiosity. “Why?”

“You said before that I didn't know you. I want to know you, the real you,” he replied softly.

She hesitated for a moment before speaking. “When I was a kid, I wanted to be an astronaut. I used to spend hours reading about space and dreaming of exploring the stars.”

Yunho smiled. “That’s amazing. Do you still dream about it?”

“Sometimes,” she admitted. “But life got in the way, and I found other passions.”

He nodded, understanding. “It’s never too late to chase your dreams, you know.”

She smiled, appreciating his sincerity. “What about you, Yunho? What do you dream about?”

His expression turned serious. “I always dreamed of being a dancer, you know, like those Kpop Idols we see plastered on magazines and stuff. I took dance when I was younger, even did it during the first year of college." Y/N's eyes widened, shocked by the revelation. 

"Wow, I didn't expect that. What made you stop?" She questioned. Yunho kept his gaze on the small water fountain in garden. 

"School just got in the way, with the classes I was taking it just became too much. Sucks though, I really had fun doing it."  Y/N nodded, understanding the sacrifices that came with balancing school and personal passions. “I get it. Sometimes life demands all our attention, and our dreams take a back seat.”

Yunho turned his gaze back to her, his eyes filled with a mix of regret and determination. “But, it’s never too late, right?”

“Right,” she agreed, a soft smile playing on her lips.

They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, the soft rustling of leaves and distant sounds of students passing by creating a serene backdrop. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a shift in her perception of Yunho. The more she learned about him, the more she realized how much there was beneath his charming exterior.

Yunho cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “You know, I’ve never really talked to anyone about my dreams. People always see me as the carefree guy who doesn’t take anything seriously.”

“That’s because that’s how you present yourself,” she pointed out gently. “But I’m beginning to see that there’s more to you than that.”

He looked at her, his expression earnest. “And I want you to see all of me. The good, the bad, and everything in between.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered at his words, but she wasn’t ready to let her guard down completely. “You’re making progress, Yunho. Keep it up.”

He grinned, his usual playful demeanor returning. “I will. And just so you know, I’m not giving up on you.”

She laughed softly. “I’m starting to believe that.”

As the third week rolled around, Yunho's persistence began to pay off. Y/N found herself looking forward to their interactions, her initial resistance slowly melting away. She started to see Yunho not as the campus playboy, but as someone who genuinely cared about her.

One Friday afternoon, Yunho approached her with a different kind of proposition. “There’s a new exhibit at the art museum this weekend. Would you like to go with me?”

Y/N looked at him, surprised by the thoughtful invitation. “An art exhibit? Not exactly your usual scene.”

“I thought it might be a nice change,” he said, his smile warm. “And I’d like to see it with you.”

She considered it for a moment before nodding. “Alright, Yunho. Let’s see this exhibit.”

That Saturday, they met outside the museum. Yunho was waiting for her, looking relaxed and excited. As they walked through the gallery, admiring the paintings and sculptures, Y/N found herself enjoying his company more than she had anticipated.

At one point, they stood in front of a particularly striking piece, a constellation of stars painted across a vast, dark canvas. Y/N felt a pang of nostalgia for her childhood dreams.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

“It is,” Yunho agreed, his gaze fixed on her rather than the painting. “Just like you.”

She turned to him, her heart racing. For the first time, she saw the sincerity in his eyes, and it took her breath away.

“Yunho, I…” she began, but he cut her off gently.

“Hey, no rush,” he said softly. “I’m willing to wait for you to believe in me. Just know that I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

As they continued to explore the exhibit, side by side, Y/N felt a new chapter beginning. She wasn’t ready to fully trust him yet, but she was willing to give him a chance. And maybe, just maybe, Yunho was worth the risk. As they made their way through the museum, Y/N decided to take the first risk. She reached for his arm, wrapping hers around it and walked closely beside him. Yunho eyes widened and eyebrows shot up at the action, looking down at her. A small smile crossed his features. 

"Yeah, I didn't take you for a hand holder." Yunho's eyes twinkled with amusement.

"What the hell does that mean?" Y/N laughed, trying to keep quiet as to not disturb the families around them.

Yunho chuckled, leaning in closer so their conversation remained private. "I mean, you're always so independent and strong. I figured you wouldn't want to be seen with a guy like me, especially not holding hands."

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. "Oh please, I'm just as capable of showing affection as anyone else. Plus, I figured you needed a little encouragement."

His smile grew, a genuine warmth spreading across his face. "Well, I appreciate it. It means a lot, coming from you."

They continued walking through the museum, their conversation flowing naturally. Y/N found herself sharing more about her life, her interests, and even some of her fears. Yunho listened intently, asking thoughtful questions and offering his own experiences in return.

As they approached a section of the museum featuring interactive exhibits, Yunho's eyes lit up. "Hey, look at this! Wanna try?"

Y/N followed his gaze to a virtual reality station where visitors could experience famous historical events. She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Why not? Let's give it a shot."

They each donned VR headsets and were transported to a world of ancient civilizations and monumental moments in history. They laughed and marveled at the immersive experience, occasionally bumping into each other as they navigated the virtual environment.

When they finally removed their headsets, Y/N felt a sense of exhilaration. "That was amazing! I never thought I'd get to experience something like that."

"Me neither," Yunho agreed, his excitement matching hers. "I'm glad we did it together."

Y/N's heart swelled with a mix of emotions. She was beginning to see Yunho in a new light, and it was both thrilling and terrifying. She knew she had to protect herself, but she couldn't deny the growing connection between them.

As they exited the museum, the sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the city. Yunho turned to her, his expression serious yet hopeful. "Y/N, I know I've made a lot of mistakes in the past, but I want you to know that I'm serious about this. About us. I don't want to be that guy anymore. I want to be better, for you."

Y/N took a deep breath, her mind racing with conflicting thoughts. But as she looked into Yunho's eyes, she saw a sincerity that she couldn't ignore. With that, they walked back to campus together, side by side, their future uncertain but filled with possibilities. For the first time, Y/N felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, Yunho was worth the risk.

"He is blowing smoke up your ass, Y/N, can't you see that?" Chaeyeon's voice was laced with concern as she sat on the couch, scrolling through her phone. Y/N stood in the small kitchen of their dorm, stirring a pot of soup on the stove. She sighed and put down the wooden spoon, turning to face her roommate.

"I thought that at first too, Chae, but I don't know anymore. He seems like he's serious," Y/N replied, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Chaeyeon looked up from her phone, her expression skeptical. "Yunho? Serious? This is the same guy who was seen with a different girl every week last semester. What makes you think he's changed?"

Y/N ran a hand through her hair, searching for the right words. "It's different with me. He's been showing up to classes, helping me with projects, even going to study sessions he used to avoid. And he shared something personal with me, something he said he hasn't told anyone else."

Chaeyeon's eyes narrowed. "And you believe that?"

"Yes, I do," Y/N said firmly. "I know it sounds crazy, but I can see it in his eyes. He's trying, Chae."

Chaeyeon sighed, setting her phone aside and standing up. She walked over to Y/N, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I just don't want to see you get hurt. You usually aren't the one to go for people like that, and I'm worried he's just saying what you want to hear."

"I appreciate that, really," Y/N said, giving her friend a small smile. "But I have to give him a chance. If he proves me wrong, then I'll deal with it. But if I don't give him a chance, I'll always wonder what if."

Chaeyeon studied her for a moment before nodding. "Alright, but I'm keeping an eye on him. If he so much as makes you cry, I’ll be there with a baseball bat. Maybe wrap some barbed wire on go Negan on his ass."

Y/N laughed, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders. "Deal. Now, help me set the table. This soup is almost ready."

Later that evening, Y/N sat on her bed, flipping through her notes for an upcoming exam. Her phone buzzed, and she glanced at the screen to see a message from Yunho.

Yunho: Had a great time at the museum today. Hope you did too. Good luck with your studying!

A smile spread across her face as she typed a quick response.

Y/N: Thanks, Yunho. I had a great time too. Talk to you later?

Yunho: Definitely. Good night, Y/N.

She put her phone down, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. Maybe Chaeyeon was right to be cautious, but for now, Y/N was willing to trust her instincts. And her instincts told her that Yunho deserved a chance.

As she settled into bed, her thoughts drifted to their day at the museum, the way his eyes had softened when he looked at her, and the sincerity in his voice. She drifted off to sleep with a sense of hope, ready to see where this journey would take them.

Y/N was in the library, buried in her textbooks, when she overheard a conversation at the table next to her.

"Did you hear? Eileen’s been all over Yunho lately," one girl whispered to her friend.

Y/N’s heart sank. She tried to focus on her studies, but the words gnawed at her. Deciding she couldn't concentrate, she packed up her things and headed back to her dorm, her mind racing.

As soon as she entered the room, Chaeyeon looked up from her laptop. "Hey, you look stressed. What's up?"

Y/N sighed, dropping her bag onto her bed. "I heard some girls talking about how Eileen has been all over Yunho lately."

Chaeyeon's expression darkened. "That girl doesn’t give up, does she? Have you talked to Yunho about it?"

Eileen wasn't an unknown name. Her and Yunho had been an item in the past, one of his 'victims' if you want to call it that. They were the on again off again couple that were off longer than they were on. Y/N knew it was only a matter of time before she would enter the picture again. 

"No, not yet. I don’t want to come off as insecure or clingy," Y/N admitted, running a hand through her hair. "But it’s bothering me."

Chaeyeon nodded in agreement with a concerned expression. "I get why you're hesitant, but you can't ignore this. It's better to talk to Yunho now before things escalate."

Y/N sighed, feeling torn between wanting to trust Yunho and her growing unease about Eileen's intentions. "You're right. I just... I don't want to be that girlfriend who's constantly questioning him."

"You're not. You're just being cautious, and that's okay," Chaeyeon reassured her. "Besides, if Yunho is serious about you, he'll understand why you're bringing this up."

Taking a deep breath, Y/N nodded. "Okay, I'll talk to him tonight."

That evening, Y/N met Yunho at a quiet corner of the campus cafe. The atmosphere was serene, with soft music playing in the background and the aroma of coffee lingering in the air. Yunho smiled warmly as she approached, pulling out a chair for her.

"Hey, Y/N. How was your day?" he asked, his eyes filled with genuine interest.

Y/N sat down, trying to ignore the nervous flutter in her stomach. "It was okay. Can we talk for a bit?"

"Sure, of course," Yunho said, his expression shifting to concern. "Is everything okay?"

Taking a deep breath, Y/N plunged into the conversation. "I overheard some girls talking in the library today. They mentioned that Eileen has been getting close to you again."

Yunho's brow furrowed slightly, his gaze searching hers. "Eileen? Yeah, she's tried to reconnect a few times, but I've made it clear that I'm not interested."

Y/N nodded slowly, feeling a mix of relief and lingering doubt. "I trust you, Yunho. I just... I wanted to hear it from you."

He reached across the table, taking her hand in his. "I understand why you're asking, and I appreciate your honesty. You're the only one I want to be with, Y/N."

His words were reassuring, yet Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of unease entirely. "I know, it's just... Eileen has a history with you, and I can't help but worry."

Yunho squeezed her hand gently. "I get it. But trust me, she's not a threat to us. I'll handle it, okay?"

Y/N nodded, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders. "Okay. Thank you for understanding."

Both of them sat in a comfortable silence. Yunho had already ordered their drinks and food so there was no point in getting up any time soon. Y/N, wanting a change of scenery, decided to take the initiative. 

"Do you want to come to my dorm?" Yunho chokes on his drink, almost slamming it back down on the table, lightly coughing. Yunho's sudden coughing fit startled Y/N, and she reached out, concern etching her features. "Are you okay?"

He waved a hand, still recovering from the surprise. "Yeah, sorry. Just caught me off guard."

Y/N chuckled softly, a hint of amusement in her voice. "I guess that was a bit unexpected. But seriously, do you want to come to my dorm? It's quieter there, and we can hang out without all the noise."

Yunho cleared his throat, his expression thoughtful as he considered her offer. "Yeah, sure. I'd like that."

They finished their drinks and made their way to Y/N's dorm room. It was a cozy space with posters on the walls, a small bookshelf filled with textbooks, and a comfortable bed tucked in one corner. Y/N grabbed a couple of pillows from her bed and settled on the floor with Yunho, leaning against the wall.

"Sorry for the cramped space.," she said, smiling at him warmly.

Yunho returned her smile, his eyes softening. "No worries, thanks for inviting me. Your room is nice."

In her room, they talked for hours, sharing stories and laughing together. Y/N felt a sense of ease and comfort with Yunho, enjoying his company more than she had expected. As the evening wore on, they found themselves sitting closer, their knees brushing occasionally.

Yunho reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Y/N, I really like being with you."

Her heart skipped a beat at his words, warmth spreading through her chest. "I feel the same way, Yunho."

He leaned in closer, his gaze searching hers. "Can I kiss you?"

Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her pulse quickening. She nodded slightly, her eyes locked on his.

Yunho's lips met hers gently, a spark igniting between them. It was a soft, tender kiss filled with unspoken promises and a newfound connection. Y/N melted into the moment, savoring the warmth of his touch and the sincerity in his actions.

When they finally pulled apart, they both were breathless, their gazes locked in silent understanding. Yunho whispered, "It would be wrong if we have sex now, right?."

"Not there quite yet buddy." she replied softly, a smile tugging at her lips. Yunho makes a wounded noise and slides his body down the wall. 

"Oh god, it's official. I'm dying." Y/N couldn't help but laugh at Yunho's dramatic reaction. She gently ran her fingers through his hair, trying to suppress her amusement.

"Yunho, you're being ridiculous," she chuckled, her eyes sparkling with fondness. "I didn't mean it like that."

He peeked up at her from his dramatic slump against the wall, a playful glint in his eyes. "Oh, so you didn't just 'buddy' me to death?"

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. "You know what I meant."

Yunho grinned, his earlier faux distress melting away. "Fine, fine. But seriously, I'm glad we're on the same page."

"Me too," Y/N agreed softly, her smile warm and genuine. "I like taking things slow."

Yunho nodded, his expression earnest. "Good. I want us to be sure about everything."

They sat together in comfortable silence for a moment, the earlier tension dissipating into a sense of closeness and understanding. Y/N leaned against the wall next to him, feeling grateful for their lighthearted banter and the depth of their connection.

"So, no more dramatic deaths?" she teased lightly.

Yunho chuckled. "I make no promises." Y/N lightly slaps his chest before they both erupt in laughter.  They continued to talk and enjoy each other's company late into the night, their bond growing stronger with each shared moment. 

In the morning, Y/N had woken up to a text tone going off. Blinking her eyes open, she sees the bag of chips lying on the floor next to 2 discarded blankets her and Yunho used last night when it got cold. She feels a weight on her stomach, looking down she sees Yunho's arm draped over her. He was still fast asleep, light snores left his lips and hair was all over the place. Y/N turned to face him, trying to fall back asleep before another text tone went off. 

Internally groaning, she reached for her phone to silence it. Looking at the screen, she didn't see any recent messages like she assumed she would. After another text sounded off, she realized it was Yunho's phone. Not wanting to invade his privacy, she gently nudged him awake. 

"Yunho," he groans, face digging into the pillow. Y/N nudges him again, gently patting his arm that was around her. "Baby your phones going off." 

Yunho stirred awake at Y/N's gentle nudging, his face still half-buried in the pillow. He mumbled incoherently, his arm tightening instinctively around her before he fully registered her words.

"Hmm?" Yunho's voice was groggy as he lifted his head, blinking sleepily at her.

"Your phone," Y/N repeated softly, nodding towards the source of the noise.

Yunho followed her gaze and realized his phone was buzzing on the nightstand. He let out a sleepy grunt and reluctantly released his hold on Y/N to reach for it. Rubbing his eyes, he swiped to unlock the screen and glanced at the notifications.

"Sorry," he muttered sheepishly, his fingers fumbling to silence the alerts. "Probably just messages from the guys."

Y/N smiled warmly at him, her affection evident in her gaze. "It's okay. I just didn't want you to miss anything important."

Yunho set his phone back down and turned his attention back to her, his sleepy smile melting her heart. "Thank you, Y/N."

They lay there for a moment, basking in the quiet intimacy of the morning. Y/N shifted slightly, feeling Yunho's arm settle around her once more. She traced circles on his chest absently, her mind drifting as she watched his peaceful expression.

"I like waking up like this," Yunho murmured softly, his eyes fixed on her.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at his words, warmth spreading through her. "Me too."

They stayed intertwined in each other's arms, savoring the calm and comfort of the moment. At least, they were, until another text was sent to him. 

"Are you sure it's Mingi and San? It seems important." Y/N comments, handing Yunho his phone. Yunho takes it, laying on his back as he opens the device. Y/N adjusted to the position, laying her head back onto his chest and arm hugging his waist. 

"I think so, I didn't actually check who it was." Yunho's relaxed demeanor shifted slightly as he glanced at the screen of his phone. His brows furrowed imperceptibly, a hint of tension crossing his features before he composed himself. He hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond to the unexpected message.

Y/N, sensing his change in demeanor, looked up at him questioningly. She could feel the subtle shift in his body language beneath her, his muscles tensing slightly.

"Who is it?" she asked softly, her fingers gently tracing patterns on his chest.

Yunho sighed, his expression conflicted as he showed her the message. "It's Eileen."

Y/N's heart sank as she read the message over his shoulder. The words were casual yet suggestive, hinting at a desire to reconnect. She bit her lip, uncertainty gnawing at her.

"What does she want?" Y/N asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

Yunho shrugged, a mix of frustration and resignation in his tone. "She's asking if we can meet up sometime."

Y/N took a deep breath, processing the information. She knew Eileen had been persistent in the past, but seeing it firsthand stirred up a mix of emotions. She tightened her arm around Yunho's waist, a silent gesture of reassurance and support.

"What are you going to do?" she asked softly, her gaze searching his.

Yunho met her eyes, his expression serious. "I'll tell her it's not happening."

Her heart warmed at his words, grateful for his honesty and commitment. She nodded slowly, trusting him to handle the situation.

"Thank you," she murmured, leaning up to press a soft kiss against his cheek.

Yunho turned to meet her lips with his own, the kiss tender and reassuring. They held each other close, finding solace in the warmth of their embrace amidst the uncertainty that Eileen's message had brought.

As they lay there together, Y/N felt a renewed sense of trust and closeness with Yunho. She knew challenges would arise, but she also knew they could face them together. And in that quiet moment, she believed more than ever that their connection was worth fighting for. 

She was starting to get annoyed with this Eileen chick. Ever since she spammed Yunho's phone that morning, it seems she can't go a single day without seeing her. One afternoon, Y/N was heading to the campus sandwich shop when she spotted Eileen sitting at a corner table, engrossed in her phone. She hesitated for a moment, debating whether to approach her or not. Curiosity and a hint of apprehension drove her forward.

Y/N cleared her throat as she approached, trying to keep her tone neutral. "Hey, Eileen."

Eileen looked up, a polite smile gracing her features. "Oh, hey Y/N. How's it going?"

Y/N took a seat across from her, studying Eileen's composed demeanor. "It's going well. How about you?"

Eileen shrugged nonchalantly, though Y/N detected a flicker of something in her eyes. "Can't complain. So, how are things with Yunho?"

Y/N tensed slightly at the directness of the question but kept her composure. "Things are good. We're getting along."

"That's good to hear," Eileen replied casually, though her gaze lingered a moment longer than necessary. "Yunho and I go way back, you know."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her tone guarded. "Yeah, I've heard."

Eileen leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "He's a great guy, but he can be a bit... unpredictable."

Y/N's jaw clenched subtly, resisting the urge to bristle at the implication. "I trust Yunho."

Eileen nodded, her smile tight. "Of course. Just... keep your eyes open, Y/N."

With that cryptic remark, Eileen excused herself, leaving Y/N to ponder her words. She couldn't shake the unease that settled in her gut, wondering what Eileen's intentions truly were. To make matters worse, she had also been pestering Yunho as well. 

A few days after her interaction, Yunho found himself unexpectedly crossing paths with Eileen outside the campus library. She smiled brightly as she approached him, her demeanor friendly yet calculated.

"Hey, Yunho! Long time no see," Eileen greeted, her voice carrying a hint of flirtation.

Yunho nodded politely, his guard subtly rising. "Hey, Eileen. How have you been?"

"Oh, you know, surviving," she replied with a playful grin. "I heard you've been spending a lot of time with Y/N lately."

Yunho's expression softened as he thought of Y/N. "Yeah, we've been getting to know each other."

Eileen's smile faltered slightly, though she quickly masked it. "That's great. She seems nice."

"She is," Yunho affirmed, his tone firm yet courteous. "Look, Eileen, I appreciate you reaching out, but I think it's best if we keep things friendly."

Eileen's eyes narrowed imperceptibly, her facade slipping for a moment. "Are you sure about that, Yunho? You and I... we have something."

Yunho sighed softly, his patience wearing thin. "Eileen, that was a long time ago."

Her smile turned brittle as she nodded, a hint of disappointment flickering across her features. "I understand. Just know that I'm here if you ever change your mind."

With that, Eileen turned and walked away, leaving Yunho to wrestle with a mix of relief and lingering concern. He knew Eileen's persistence wouldn't fade easily, but he was determined to focus on the relationship he was building with Y/N.

"She is like a pest, as soon as you think you've gotten rid of the damn thing it pops back up again." Yunho and Y/N were sitting on the couch together, well, more like Y/N was sitting on the couch and Yunho sat on the floor between her legs. She was leaned forward and arms were wrapped around Yunho's shoulders as they talked with Chaeyeon. 

Y/N chuckled softly, her fingers absentmindedly playing with Yunho's hair as she listened to his comment. "Well, pests can be persistent. But don't worry, I'm not going anywhere."

Chaeyeon, who was lounging on the opposite end of the couch, raised an eyebrow curiously. "What's going on? Pest problem?"

Yunho sighed dramatically, leaning back against Y/N's legs. "Eileen keeps trying to worm her way back into my life."

Y/N nodded in agreement, her expression thoughtful. "Yeah, she's been... persistent."

Chaeyeon frowned, crossing her arms. "That sounds annoying. What does she want?"

Yunho shrugged, a hint of frustration in his voice. "I don't know. She keeps hinting that we should hang out, catch up, that sort of thing."

Y/N squeezed his shoulders reassuringly. "But he's made it clear he's with me now."

Chaeyeon nodded, understanding dawning on her face. "Got it. Well, just keep shutting her down. She'll get the hint eventually."

Yunho smiled gratefully at Y/N and Chaeyeon. "Yeah, I hope so, but I'm not sure. She's like Y/N," He glances back to look at her as she gives him a questioning look. "Stubborn as fuck." 

Y/N couldn't help but laugh at Yunho's playful jab, though she pretended to scowl as she swatted the back of his head lightly. "Watch it."

Yunho grinned mischievously, rubbing the spot where she had lightly hit him. "Just speaking the truth, babe."

Chaeyeon chuckled, enjoying the banter between them. "Well, if that's the case, she won't give up easily."

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. "Great, now I have competition."

Yunho leaned back against her legs again, looking up at her with a teasing glint in his eyes. "Trust me, there is no competition."

She couldn't help but smile at his words, feeling a warmth spread through her. "Smooth recovery."

Chaeyeon laughed, shaking her head. "You two are something else."

Yunho shrugged nonchalantly. "What can I say? We keep it interesting."

As they settled back into their comfortable position on the couch, Y/N felt a surge of gratitude for the support and playfulness Yunho brought into her life, even in moments of potential tension like this one with Eileen. She squeezed his shoulders affectionately, silently thanking Chaeyeon for being there as well.

Together, they were navigating the complexities of relationships, both past and present, with humor, honesty, and a steadfast commitment to each other. And as Y/N glanced down at Yunho's smiling face, she knew that whatever challenges they faced, they would face them together.

The bass thudded through Yunho's chest as he navigated through the pulsating crowd at the Sigma house party. He greeted familiar faces with a nod or a wave, his mind distracted by thoughts of Y/N. She had opted to stay home tonight, citing a need to catch up on studying, but Yunho couldn't shake the feeling that she was avoiding situations like these.

He found Mingi and San near the makeshift bar, surrounded by a throng of people vying for drinks. Mingi caught sight of him first, waving enthusiastically and pulling him into a bear hug.

"Yunho, buddy! You made it," Mingi shouted over the music, clapping him on the back.

Yunho grinned, exchanging a fist bump with San. "Wouldn't miss it. How's the party so far?"

San shrugged, his voice barely audible over the beat. "Same old, same old. Where's Y/N? Thought she was coming."

Yunho's smile faltered slightly at the mention of Y/N. "Ah, she decided to take a rain check tonight. Said she wasn't feeling up to it."

Mingi raised an eyebrow knowingly. "Everything okay with you two?"

Yunho hesitated, trying to brush off the concern. "Yeah, yeah, everything's fine. Just one of those nights, you know?"

San clapped him on the shoulder. "Well, you're here now. Let's make the most of it."

They ventured further into the party, Yunho gradually letting himself relax into the familiar chaos of college life. People danced, shouted conversations, and spilled drinks in equal measure. It wasn't long before Yunho found himself caught up in the rhythm, his worries momentarily forgotten.

As he made his way to the backyard for some fresh air, Yunho spotted Eileen across the room. She was leaning against a wall, her gaze scanning the crowd with a calculated intensity. Their eyes met briefly before she sauntered over, a sly smile curving her lips.

"Well, well, look who decided to show up," Eileen purred, her voice barely audible above the music.

Yunho chuckled lightly, a hint of wariness in his expression. "Hey, Eileen. Long time no see."

Eileen tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. "You've been avoiding me, Yunho."

He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms defensively. "I've been busy. You know how it is."

She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I miss us, Yunho. We had something good."

Yunho sighed softly, shaking his head. "Eileen, that was a long time ago. We've both moved on."

Her smile turned sultry as she reached out to touch his arm, a subtle invitation in her gaze. "Have we, though? I see the way you look at me."

Yunho took a step back, his resolve hardening. "I'm with Y/N now, Eileen. It's not going to happen."

Eileen rolled her eyes and stood closer to him. "Yeah? And how long do you think that's gonna last Yunho? She doesn't know you, not like I do. You know, you sleep with all these different girls but every single time where did that lead you? Right back to me." 

Yunho's jaw tightened as Eileen's words hit a nerve, stirring up old memories and doubts he had buried deep. He glanced around nervously, hoping no one was paying too much attention to their conversation.

"Eileen, that's not fair," he replied tersely, his voice low yet firm. "Y/N is different."

Eileen leaned in closer, her tone dripping with condescension. "Oh, please. You've said that before. What makes her so special?"

Yunho took a deep breath, trying to remain calm despite the rising tension. "She trusts me. She sees me for who I am now, not who I was."

Eileen scoffed softly, her gaze challenging. "And what if I told her about us? About all the times you came running back to me?"

Yunho's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of fear crossing his features. "You wouldn't."

Eileen smirked, enjoying the discomfort she was causing. "Try me, Yunho. You know I'm not one to be ignored."

Yunho glanced around again, feeling trapped by Eileen's persistence and the weight of his past mistakes. "Look, Eileen, I get it. But this isn't the place for this conversation."

Eileen's smirk widened, her gaze unwavering. "Fine. But remember, Yunho, I'm not going anywhere."

With that, she turned and disappeared into the crowd once more, leaving Yunho standing there with a knot in his stomach. He rubbed his temples, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling that had settled over him. Deep down, he knew Eileen wouldn't give up easily, and he feared the consequences if she followed through on her threat.

Taking a shaky breath, Yunho resolved to talk to Y/N about Eileen and confront the situation head-on. He needed her trust more than ever now, and he wasn't about to let his past mistakes jeopardize their future together. 

Yunho went to find his friends, informing them he was gonna call it early and head home. After their goodbyes, he headed straight for Y/N's dorm, wanting her comfort more than anything else in that moment.  Yunho's footsteps echoed softly in the quiet corridors of the dormitory as he made his way to Y/N's room. His mind raced with thoughts of Eileen and the unsettling encounter at the party. He couldn't shake the feeling of unease, knowing Eileen's persistence could potentially unravel everything he had built with Y/N.

When he reached her door, Yunho hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He knocked gently, the sound echoing in the stillness of the hallway. After a few moments, the door opened, revealing Y/N with a concerned expression.

"Yunho, hey," Chaeyeon greeted softly, her brow furrowing as she took in his serious demeanor. "Is everything okay?"

Yunho stepped inside without a word, closing the door behind him. He turned to face her, the weight of his worries evident in his eyes. "Is Y/N awake?"

Concern deepened on Chaeyeon's face. "Yeah I think so, I heard her TV still just a few minutes ago." Yunho nodded and headed to her room, gently knocking on the door. After a few moments, door opened. 

"Yunho? I thought you would be at the party still?" She squinted her eyes at him, he can tell she was close to falling asleep moments before he showed up. "Shit, what time is it?" Before she walked away, he grabbed her and pulled her in for a hug. Y/N stood momentarily shocked before holding him, concern etched her faces when she pulled back and looked at his face. She pulled him fully inside her room, shutting her door, and led him to sit on her bed. 

She sat beside him, reaching out to grasp his hand reassuringly. "What happened?"

Yunho took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts. "Eileen was at the party tonight. She... she approached me."

Y/N's eyes widened slightly, her grip tightening on his hand. "What did she want?"

He looked down, his voice quiet but resolute. "She... she's not giving up, Y/N. She tried to insinuate things about us, about my past. She even threatened to... to tell you."

Y/N's expression softened with understanding as she gently squeezed his hand. "Yunho, I trust you. Whatever happened in the past, it's in the past. You're with me now."

Yunho looked up at her, relief flooding through him at her words. "I know, but... I just.... I don't want her causing trouble for us."

Y/N nodded reassuringly, her thumb stroking his hand soothingly. "Hey relax. We'll deal with this together, okay?"

Yunho nodded, a grateful smile touching his lips. "Okay."

They sat together in silence for a moment, the weight of the conversation hanging in the air. Yunho felt a surge of gratitude for Y/N's unwavering support and understanding. Despite the uncertainty of Eileen's intentions, he knew that facing this challenge together with Y/N by his side was the only way forward.

"I'm here for you, Yunho," Y/N said softly, breaking the silence. "No matter what."

Yunho leaned closer, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Thank you, Y/N."

As they held each other close, Yunho felt a sense of peace settle over him. "Can I stay here tonight?" He asked quietly, not wanting to disturb the peaceful bubble she created for him. 

Y/N smiled warmly, her heart swelling with affection for Yunho. "Of course you can stay."

Yunho's expression softened with gratitude as he settled in beside her on the bed. They lay together, wrapped in each other's arms, finding comfort and solace in the presence of one another. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the dorm's ventilation system, creating a serene atmosphere that eased the tension from Yunho's shoulders.

"I'm sorry for bringing this into your space," Yunho murmured after a while, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N gently brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead, her touch tender. "You don't need to apologize, Yunho. Besides, I kind of anticipated some drama to come along."

He nodded, his eyes meeting hers with a mixture of relief and adoration. "Thank you for understanding."

Y/N smiled, leaning in to kiss him softly on the lips. "Always."

They stayed intertwined in each other's embrace, finding comfort and reassurance in their closeness. For Yunho, being with Y/N brought a sense of calm he hadn't felt in a long time. 

"I'm going." Her answer was final, her tone said it all. Yunho dropped his head in defeat, knowing it was a losing battle when she made up her mind. He dragged his hand down his face, looking into her eyes once more. 

"You don't have to, I can-" but he was cut off once more. 

"Nope, I'm going. It's done, my decision is final." Yunho sighed, feeling torn between gratitude for Y/N's determination and worry about what might unfold at the party. He knew Y/N's strength and resolve could handle Eileen, but he also feared the potential confrontation.

"Okay," he conceded reluctantly, knowing it was futile to argue further once Y/N had made up her mind. "Just promise me you'll be careful,"

Y/N nodded firmly, her expression resolute. "I will-" Yunho shakes a finger at her. "No no no, careful as in you promise to not cuss her out in front of half the student body." 

Y/N chuckled softly, understanding Yunho's concern. "Okay, fine. I promise I won't cause a scene."

Yunho sighed with a mixture of relief and apprehension. "Thank you. Just... be yourself, but maybe tone down the fierceness a notch?"

She grinned, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. "I'll do my best."

With a nod, Yunho leaned in to kiss her forehead gently. "Alright then, I'm gonna start getting ready once class ends. I'll pick you up at 8 and we'll go together."

Y/N smiled warmly, feeling touched by his support. "Sounds good. I'll see you later then." With a quick kiss goodbye, they parted ways. As she was walking back to her dorm, seeing as her classes were finished for the day, she paused. Did she have anything to wear?  

Later that evening, she was doing some finishing touches to her looks. She decided she wanted to keep it simple, so she put on a cute olive green strapless top and light wash destroyed shorts. Y/N decided to keep her hair down, though she kept a hair tie on her in case it got hot. With a gold pair of hoops in and a set of gold necklaces adorning her neck, once she finished her makeup she was ready to go. 

A knock came to her bedroom door, Chaeyeon's voice echoed through. "Y/N, your boy toy is here." Y/N rolled her eyes before opening the door. She sent a glare towards her friend, "Classy Chae, real classy. I'll be there in a second, I'm almost done." 

Y/N took a final glance in the mirror, smoothing down her top and adjusting her earrings before heading to the door. She found Yunho waiting outside, leaning casually against the wall with a smile on his face. His dark jeans and fitted black shirt contrasted with her more casual attire, but they complemented each other perfectly.

"Hey," he greeted warmly as she approached.

"Hey yourself," she replied playfully, stepping closer to him. "Ready to face the party?"

Yunho chuckled, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Only if you're by my side."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at his words, her smile widening. "Always."

They walked together to the party venue, the atmosphere buzzing with excitement and music echoing through the halls. Yunho kept a protective arm around her shoulders as they navigated through the crowd, exchanging nods and greetings with familiar faces along the way.

Inside, the party was in full swing, lights flashing and people mingling. Yunho guided Y/N towards a quieter corner where they could catch their breath and talk.

"You look amazing," he murmured, his gaze lingering on her.

"Thanks," she replied, feeling a warm blush spread across her cheeks. "You don't look too bad yourself."

Yunho grinned, leaning in to press a quick kiss to her cheek. "Let's grab some drinks. What are you having?"

Y/N considered for a moment before answering. "Just a beer is fine for now."

He nodded and headed towards the makeshift bar, leaving Y/N to observe the partygoers around her. She spotted familiar faces from their classes and social circles, exchanging nods and smiles as she scanned the room.

As Yunho returned with their drinks, Y/N took a sip of her beer, feeling the buzz of the party sink in. They chatted and laughed together, enjoying the music and occasional dance moves from their friends. San and Mingi had shown up a few minutes later, joining them once they made their rounds with everyone. Yunho kept a watchful eye on Y/N, subtly guiding her away from any potential encounters with Eileen.

"Hey guys," she greeted warmly, glancing between Yunho and his friends. "Having fun?"

Mingi grinned, pulling her into a friendly side hug. "Always, especially with you around, Y/N."

San chuckled, nudging Yunho. "You better keep an eye on this one, Yunho. She's about to steal the show."

Yunho couldn't help but smile at Y/N, his worries momentarily easing with her presence. "Yeah, she always does."

Y/N glanced around, sensing the tension in the air. "Everything okay?"

Yunho hesitated, then decided to be honest. "Eileen's here. I saw her earlier. Just... be careful, okay?"

Y/N nodded solemnly, her gaze meeting Yunho's with determination. "I will. Don't worry."

With a reassuring squeeze of his hand, Y/N turned to Mingi and San, engaging in light-hearted banter to lift the mood. After a while, Y/N excused herself to use the restroom, leaving Yunho with the boys briefly. As she made her way through the crowd, she caught sight of Eileen across the room, chatting with a group of friends. Their eyes met briefly, and Y/N felt a surge of determination.

She entered the restroom, took a deep breath, and gathered her thoughts. She wasn't here to start a fight, but she was ready to assert herself if needed.

Back with the boys, Yunho watched as she parted from them, but turned back to Mingi and San, trying to maintain a casual demeanor despite the tension prickling at the edges of his awareness.

"So, how's your semester going, Yunho?" Mingi asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Yunho shrugged nonchalantly, scanning the room once more before replying. "It's been alright. Just trying to stay on top of everything, you know?"

San nodded, sipping on his drink thoughtfully. "Yeah, I hear you. Midterms are coming up soon, gotta start hitting the books."

Before Yunho could respond, a familiar voice interrupted them from behind. "Well, well, well, if it isn't Yunho and his entourage."

Yunho tensed at the sound of Eileen's voice, turning to see her approaching with a coy smile. San and Mingi exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the tension.

"Eileen," Yunho acknowledged tersely, his guard up.

She ignored his curt tone, sidling up closer to Yunho with a flirtatious smile. "You're looking good."

Yunho forced a polite smile, stepping slightly away from her. "Thanks. Look, Eileen, this isn't really a good time-"

"Oh, come on, Yunho," Eileen purred, reaching out to lightly touch his arm. "Can't we catch up? I've missed you."

San and Mingi exchanged knowing glances, silently urging Yunho to handle the situation carefully. Yunho shifted uncomfortably under Eileen's gaze, acutely aware of the potential for drama.

"I think we've caught up enough," Yunho replied firmly, gently removing her hand from his arm. "I'm here with Y/N tonight."

Eileen's smile faltered for a moment, replaced by a flicker of annoyance. "Y/N, huh? I saw her earlier. She seems... determined."

Yunho bristled slightly at the implication in Eileen's tone. "She knows what she wants."

Eileen leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "And what about you, Yunho? Are you sure she's what you want?"

Yunho's jaw tightened, his patience wearing thin. "Yes, I'm sure."

Eileen sighed dramatically, leaning back with a calculated smile. "Well, while she's gone, how about a dance. Come on, just one, promise I'll give you back to her once we're done."

Yunho felt his muscles tense as Eileen's hand wrapped around his wrist, pulling him towards the dance floor despite his resistance. He glanced back at Mingi and San, his expression pleading for understanding, but they could only watch helplessly as Eileen led him away.

The pulsing beat of the music surrounded them as Eileen moved closer, her body pressing against his in a way that made Yunho uncomfortable. He tried to keep a polite distance, but Eileen seemed determined to disregard his boundaries.

"Come on, Yunho," she coaxed, her voice low and persuasive. "You used to love dancing. Just one dance won't hurt."

Yunho sighed inwardly, feeling trapped in the situation. He knew dancing with Eileen was a bad idea, especially with Y/N likely to return from the restroom soon, but he also didn't want to escalate the tension by refusing outright.

Reluctantly, Yunho allowed Eileen to guide him into a dance, trying to keep a polite distance while still complying with her insistence. He kept his movements reserved, avoiding any intimate contact and keeping his gaze fixed on the crowd around them, hoping to signal to Y/N that he was not willingly participating in this dance.

Eileen, however, seemed oblivious to his discomfort, smiling up at him as if they were sharing a romantic moment. Yunho's mind raced with thoughts of how to extricate himself from the situation without causing a scene. He needed to find a way to end this dance quickly and return to Y/N's side before things escalated further.

As Yunho awkwardly danced with Eileen, keeping his movements stiff and his gaze drifting to the crowd, he felt a surge of relief when he spotted Y/N making her way back from the restroom. He glanced towards Mingi and San, who were watching the scene unfold with concern evident on their faces.

Y/N approached them, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Hey, where's Yunho? I thought he was with you guys."

Mingi exchanged a quick glance with San before explaining, "He got pulled away by Eileen. She dragged him to dance with her."

Y/N's eyes narrowed, her jaw tensing with restrained anger. She took in a deep breath, trying to steady herself before responding. "Okay," she said tersely. "Thanks for letting me know."

Without another word, Y/N turned and began weaving through the crowd towards where Yunho and Eileen were dancing. Her steps were purposeful, her posture radiating determination as she closed the distance.

Yunho caught sight of Y/N approaching, his heart sinking with worry over how she might react. He met her gaze, silently pleading for understanding as Eileen continued to dance beside him, oblivious to Y/N's approach.

Eileen noticed Y/N's approach as well, her expression shifting from amusement to curiosity. She leaned in closer to Yunho, her voice low and teasing. "Looks like your current toy isn't too happy about us dancing. Trouble in paradise?"

Yunho gritted his teeth, his patience wearing thin. "She's not my toy, Eileen," he said firmly, his voice tinged with frustration.

Eileen's smile widened, a hint of triumph in her eyes. "Really? Could've fooled me."

Before Yunho could respond, Y/N reached them, her presence commanding attention. She stood beside Yunho, her gaze locking onto Eileen with unwavering intensity. Without a word, Y/N extended her hand towards Yunho.

Yunho blinked in surprise, momentarily caught off guard by Y/N's unexpected gesture. With no hesitation, he placed his hand in hers, silently acknowledging her silent cue.

With deliberate grace, Y/N pulled Yunho away from Eileen's grasp, guiding him back towards the quieter corner of the room they had occupied earlier. The movement was subtle yet powerful, a clear statement of ownership and solidarity. Before they got too far, Yunho felt his other arm be pulled back, making him yank Y/N backwards. 

"Who the fuck do you think you are? You don't get to just drag him off like that," Eileen snapped, her voice rising with irritation. She grabbed Yunho's arm, attempting to pull him back towards her.

Yunho resisted her pull, his expression hardening. "Let go, Eileen," he said firmly, his voice laced with frustration.

Eileen's eyes flashed with defiance. "No, Yunho. We were having fun. Why are you letting her ruin everything?"

Y/N stood her ground beside Yunho, her posture unwavering despite Eileen's confrontation. "He's with me now, Eileen. You need to accept that."

Eileen scoffed, her gaze flickering between Yunho and Y/N. "Oh please, like he's never gone back to me before. You're just a phase, sweetheart."

Yunho's jaw tightened, his patience wearing thin. "Enough, Eileen. This isn't about you or me anymore. It's over." Elieen looked as if she was going to throw a temper tantrum. Y/N took a step closer to her, keeping her voice low as to not cause a scene. 

"Face it, you lost. He's not yours anymore, he's mine. Now let go of my boyfriend." Y/N forcefully removes her hold from Yunho's arm and gently nudges him to start walking back to San and Mingi. Eileen's face flushed with anger at Y/N's assertive words. She opened her mouth to retort, but Y/N had already turned around and walked away. With a frustrated huff, Eileen finally relented, shooting one last glare at Yunho and Y/N before turning on her heel and storming off into the crowd.

Yunho turned to Y/N, gratitude and admiration shining in his eyes. "Thank you," he murmured, reaching out to gently squeeze her hand.

Y/N smiled warmly, her own tension melting away as they rejoined San and Mingi. "We make a good team," she replied softly, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Yunho's cheek.

San and Mingi exchanged knowing glances, a mixture of relief and pride evident on their faces. "Let's get out of here," Mingi suggested, gesturing towards the exit.

Yunho nodded in agreement, leading Y/N through the crowd towards the door. As they stepped outside into the cool night air, a sense of closure settled over them. They walked back to Y/N's dorm together, San and Mingi walked ahead goofing off with one another. Meanwhile, Yunho and Y/N stayed behind, each had one arm wrapped around the other as they walked. 

"So....boyfriend huh?" Yunho teased her, lightly bumping his hip into hers. Y/N smiled softly,

"Yeah, boyfriend." She confirmed. Yunho stopped in his tracks, turning to face her. "What?" She asked. 

"That's it? No smart comment, no back tracking, none of it?" Y/N chuckled, the sound light and warm in the quiet of the night. She stopped walking as well, turning to face Yunho with a playful glint in her eyes.

"Well, what can I say? You've won me over," she replied, her tone teasing yet sincere. "You're stuck with me now."

Yunho grinned, his heart swelling with affection. He reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle and intimate. "I wouldn't have it any other way," he murmured softly.

They stood there for a moment, the night air crisp around them, enjoying the simple pleasure of each other's company. The streetlights cast a soft glow over them as they resumed walking, their steps falling into an easy rhythm. Yunho glanced at her with a mischievous glint in his eye. "So, does this mean I get to meet your friends officially now? I'm ready to face the squad."

Y/N chuckled, nodding in agreement. "If you can handle Chaeyeon then yeah, I think they'll be eager to meet you, especially after tonight." Just as Yunho leaned down to kiss her, the sound of a yelp and thud disrupted them. 

"Damnit San. Yo Yunho, come help me man." Looking to the boys, San was somehow now sprawled out on the ground and laughing in hysterics. Yunho sighed and looked down to you again. 

"We're coming back to this, promise." He gave her a quick peck on the lips before running to help Mingi lift San up. 

"San, you lightweight," Yunho teased with a grin, but there was genuine concern in his voice as he steadied his friend. "You okay?"

San nodded, still chuckling. "I'm good, I'm good. Just need a minute to get my bearings."

Mingi rolled his eyes playfully. "You're lucky we're here to babysit you."

next story coming soon......

Thank you guys for enjoying the series, it means a lot to see so many people like the posts. If you want to join the taglist, please let me know.

Taglist: @scarfac3 @bts-army380 @ssrnghwa @philijack @laurenwidjaja

[soaplickerrr]

Accidentally Coincidental

CHAPTER 5 (click pictures for better quality)

| ⇠Previous | Next ⇢ |

a/n: updates will be slow, i'm working on a pretty long fic on my side blog.

(THIS CHAPTER TAKES PLACE LIKE A WEEK BEFORE JJAM CAME OUT)

LETS ALSO PRETEND LIKE YOU GET NOTIFIED WHEN A PRIV ACC QUOTES YOUR TWEET, YOU JUST CANT SEE WHOS ACC IT WAS.

pairing: Idol!Kim Seungmin x Fem!CollegeStudent!Reader

genre: contemporary romance

SMAU

synopsis: Y/N, a regular college student accidentally texts Seungmin, a star in the K-pop group Stray Kids while trying to text her Ex, Soonyoung to come pick up his things, leading to an unexpected connection that blossoms into a heartfelt romance.

ignore time stamps and typos

THERES A WRITTEN PART SO DONT JUST SCROLL THROUGH THE PICTURES🙏🙏

Seungmin puts his phone down, a full-teethed smile spreading across his lips, his heart lighter than it’s been in days. The conversation with Bang Chan had gone better than he had hoped. He knew it was a big ask—one that could have easily backfired—but he trusted Chan, and in the end, his trust was well-placed. Seungmin leans back in his chair, his mind already wandering to the possibilities. He imagines the look on her face if she gets the opportunity, the way her eyes might light up when she realizes her dream could be within reach. It’s a feeling of contentment, of knowing he’s done something good for someone who deserves it.

While Seungmin is lost in his thoughts, Bang Chan is already taking action. He wastes no time, picking up his phone and dialing his manager’s number. The phone barely rings twice before the manager picks up, his tone professional as always.

“Chan, what’s up?” the manager asks, his voice carrying that hint of curiosity that always comes when Bang Chan calls unexpectedly.

“I need to set up a meeting,” Chan says, cutting straight to the point. “I want to talk to the editing team manager, JYP, and the CEO.”

There’s a brief pause on the other end of the line, the manager processing the request. “That’s a pretty serious meeting, Chan. What’s this about?”

“There’s someone I think might be a great fit for our editing team,” Bang Chan explains, his tone steady but urgent. “I know two people from the team quit last week, and we’re a bit short-handed. I want to see if she can step in and help. But first, she needs to be tested—see if she’s got what it takes.”

The manager is silent for a moment, considering the proposal. It’s not every day that one of the members takes such a personal interest in something like this. “You’re sure about this, Chan? This is a pretty big deal.”

“I am,” Chan replies without hesitation. “She’s got potential, and I think we should at least give her a chance to prove herself. If she passes the test, great. If not, then we’ll know. But I want to make sure we give her a fair shot.”

“Alright,” the manager finally says, his voice carrying a note of resolve. “I’ll talk to them and see when we can schedule a meeting. We’ll discuss it further there.”

“Thanks,” Bang Chan says, relief washing over him. “I appreciate it.”

“No problem, Chan. I’ll get back to you once I have more details.”

As the call ends, Bang Chan lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He knows the road ahead isn’t a guarantee, but he’s done what he can. Now, it’s up to the higher-ups and, ultimately, up to her to prove she’s got what it takes. He hopes, for Seungmin’s sake—and maybe a little for hers—that this all works out. There’s something about this situation that feels right, like the pieces are starting to fall into place.

He leans back in his chair, glancing at the clock. It’s late, but his mind is still buzzing with the day’s events. He thinks of Seungmin happiness. That alone makes it worth it. Bang Chan isn’t one to take risks lightly, especially when it involves careers, but there’s something about Seungmin’s trust that makes him want to try.

As he sits there, Bang Chan’s thoughts drift to the upcoming meeting. He knows it won’t be easy to convince everyone, but he’s prepared to argue his case. He believes in Seungmin’s judgment, and he’s willing to put his own reputation on the line to give this girl a shot. It’s not just about filling a spot on the editing team—it’s about helping someone chase their dream, just like he did once.

The night stretches on, but Bang Chan doesn’t mind. He’s already planning his approach, the arguments he’ll use, the points he’ll make. There’s a quiet determination in his eyes, the kind that only comes when something truly matters. He’s ready to fight for this, and for Seungmin. Because at the end of the day, that’s what being a leader is about—trusting your team and doing whatever it takes to support them.

This feels very empty for some reason 🧐🧐

TAGLIST - CLOSED - if your name is in pink, i couldn’t tag you.

🏷️: @disasterousdangerousbi @akitfffr @alexateurmom @jeonginplsholdmyhand @sunarins-whore @feelikecinderella @minniesuperversee @istglevi-gotmesimping @dreamerwasfound @whiteghostt @your-favorite-pirate @pnutbutter-n-j-elyy @chuuyaobsessed @ihrtlix @onlyhyunjin @jisuperboard @dazzlingjade @sellomaybe @lixiesbrownies333 @kkamismom12 @iatemycatfreckles @puppyminnnie @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @ayyonoona @missvanjii @jc003 @dontwannaexsist

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Houses of the Holy | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (Eventual ;) )

Warnings: MNDI 18+ ONLY, canon violence, canon gore, SMUT, breast play, cunnilingus, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do this irl pls and thanks), dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics, clit spanking, descriptions of religious trauma (there’s a lot of talk of the two things you should never talk about in here: religion and politics)

Word Count: 5892

A/N: need i say it again, goodbye, minors!!! Be gone!!! please!!!

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

Every twenty or so minutes, you reloaded the FBI’s database you’d managed to tap into. You were getting incredibly anxious about Dean’s presence on their radar following the bank “robbery” the week prior. 

Sam went out to pose as a psychotherapy nurse to interrogate a woman whose personality seemed to have changed overnight after killing a man, claiming an angel led her to do so. You were placed on “Dean duty” after Sam insisted his brother stay here to avoid being seen. You were right on board with that idea, but you needed to stay behind to make sure Dean didn’t go stir crazy and leave stupidly.

A thousand thoughts swirled through your head as you wrote in your journal. 

“When I was on my own, I was a fucking expert at staying away from police,” you wrote. “Now, suddenly, I’m on cases with these two where every time I turn around, a cop is on my ass. I’m not super crazy about that idea. However, I don’t wanna leave them. They’re my best friends, and I know Dean is something more to me. I don’t wanna give that all up just because I’m starting to sweat a bit, y’know? 

“I am not one to shy away from trouble, and I’m loyal. Those are two qualities I’m super proud of,” you continued writing, “I just am worried. And I feel like that’s completely normal. But it’s a different kind of worry. I’ve never had to be concerned about two other people when I’m hunting. This is the first time I’ve had partners who are just as good as I am. And I’ve never cared about my partners this much. And in a way, that sucks.

“And what the hell was I thinking promising Sam that I’d kill him if necessary? Am I out of my fucking mind?? I don’t know what I’d do if Dean hated me. But I’d still rather him hate me than hate himself. I can go it alone again. I really could. I just don’t think I want to.”

You dropped your pen and scrubbed a hand over your face before pulling it through your hair. 

“Sweetheart. C’mere,” Dean groaned from the other end of the room. He was laying on a vibrating motel bed with his headphones in his ears. He’d been obsessively fueling the “Magic Fingers” machine with quarters. 

You headed over to him just as the bed stopped vibrating.

“Damn, that was my last quarter,” he huffed, taking his headphones out of his ears. He seemed not to notice you until that moment. “Oh, hey.” 

You sat on the bed next to him, and he was still laid out in the center of the bed on his back.”Whatcha need?”

“You,” he said, smirking.

You laughed as he pulled on the ends of your— his— shirt, trying to get you to lay on top of him. You happily complied, leaning forward to kiss him. Between kisses, you giggled, “Dee, we already fucked this morning. You’re seriously ready again?”

He hummed against your lips. “Always.”

You rolled your head away from him. “I have sex with you once, and suddenly, you’re insatiable.”

“I can’t help it,” he smirked. “You’re gorgeous.”

You faux-pouted. “That’s it?”

He rolled on top of you and kissed up your neck. “And smart.” He kissed you again, moving to your left cheek. “And badass.” He kissed the tip of your nose. “And sexy.” He kissed your lips. “I hate how much I need you.”

You mocked offense. “Why do you hate it?”

“ ‘Cause I don’t like to need anyone,” he replied. 

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I need you, too.” You leaned up to him and pecked his lips before leaning back down on the pillows. “And not just sexually,” you clarified.

He chuckled. “Same here,” he told you earnestly.

You grinned widely, pulling him back down to your lips by the nape of his neck. He eagerly bit your bottom lip before trailing his lips down your neck. He sucked a dark spot on your collarbone, making you tug his hair and moan. He groaned against your skin before hiking the shirt up your body, swirling his tongue around your nipples. Still sensitive from your activities earlier in the morning, your back immediately arched into him and you keened, encouraging him to keep going. He switched to your other breast and chuckled as you continued writhing underneath him. “Wonder if I could make you cum just like this,” he said, looking up at you. 

“Stop teasing, Dean,” you whined, shoving his shoulders down to your pussy.

“Hmm, but it’s so much fun,” he replied. Dean skimmed his fingers down to the band of your underwear, playing with the hem. You sucked in a sharp breath and squirmed beneath him. “Why would I do what you want when this is so much more enjoyable for me,” he chuckled darkly.

“Dean!” you cried out. “Please!”

“Fine,” he responded. The man above you pushed your panties down your legs before dipping his fingers into your cunt. “So wet for me already?”

“Fuck you,” you murmured in embarrassment.

He tsked. “Is that any way to talk to the guy who made you cum three times this morning?”

“It is if he’s being a fucking tease,” you replied, running your nails over his abs just above his V-line.

He groaned at your actions before grabbing your wrist and pinning it next to your head. “Now who’s being a tease?” Dean used one hand to pin your wrist above your head and the other to grab your other. He pinned them above your head, instructing you to keep them there.

He moved back down your body, stopping when he reached your core. He eagerly ate you out like a man starved, and your hands flew to his hair. He immediately stopped. 

“What’d I say?” he asked gruffly.

“Sorry,” you replied sheepishly, grabbing the headboard above you to keep your hands there.

He moved back to your pussy, sucking your clit into his mouth and making you grip the headboard tighter. “Fuck, Dean!” you cried out.

He curled two long fingers inside you, groaning at the slick pooling between your thighs. Your orgasm was quickly approaching as he hit your g-spot with the tips of his fingers and continued harshly sucking your clit, every now and again swirling his tongue around it. 

“Fuck, fuck, please, I’m gonna—” And then he was gone. “What the fuck?” you whined at the feeling of his fingers leaving you.

“You don’t get to come until I say,” he growled. “You understand?”

You nodded eagerly, still white-knuckling the headboard. You spread your legs wide, fully displaying your pussy to him. “Fuck me, Dean.”

His hand came harshly down on your clit. You yelped in surprise.

“You don’t make the demands here, I do.” He spanked your clit one more time for good measure before shoving his fingers into your mouth. You sucked on them in earnest, closing your eyes as you licked them clean. Dean groaned at the feeling and freed his fingers from your mouth, gripping your throat as he bent down to kiss you. 

Before you knew it, Dean’s cock was inside you, making you gasp into his mouth. He sheathed himself fully inside you, and you locked your legs around his hips. He rocked into you roughly, each thrust making you come more and more alight. 

“Can I touch you?” you breathed out. “Please?”

“Beg,” he replied, still keeping his thrusts even.

“Dean, please let me touch you. Please, please, I need to touch you,” you groveled through shallow breaths. 

“Hmm…” he smirked, rolling his hips into yours roughly. 

“Dean! Please! Please!” you cried, gasping. “I need to feel you, Dee.”

“Okay, sweetheart, you can,” he said.

You were on him in an instant, one hand in his hair and the other winding around the underside of his shoulders. You kissed your way down his neck and nipped at the base of it, careful not to leave any dark marks; even though you really wanted to. Dean’s pace began to falter as you felt his cock twitching inside you.

“Cum with me,” he instructed you. He reached down to your clit, drawing rough circles, before burying his face in your shoulder. “Cum with me, now, (Y/N).”

You came with a high-pitched moan, your orgasm crashing into you suddenly. Your legs locked around the base of Dean’s spine, keeping him inside you as he came. You moaned again at the feeling of his cum spilling inside you. His thrusts slowed, and he pulled out, causing you to whine at the loss. Dean laid on your bare chest, breathless. 

You took a few minutes to linger in this feeling which you decided was your version of heaven. No monsters, no fighting, no police run-ins— just Dean laying on your chest, breathing in time with you. However, you knew Sam would be coming back any minute now.

“Dean,” you said, trying to wiggle out from under him.

“Hm?”

“We gotta get up, Sam’s gonna be back soon.”

“Who cares.”

“Me!” you squealed as his grip tightened around you. “I don’t really want Sam to see my bare tits!”

He kissed between the valley of your breasts, nuzzling your left one with his cheek. “But I wanna keep lookin’ at ‘em.”

“Dean!”

“Alright, alright.” He finally let go of you, and you pulled your clothes back on. This time, you put your jeans and the shirt you wore before you and Dean fucked for the first time that morning to avoid Sam knowing what had been happening. You headed back over to your laptop, and reloaded the FBI’s database page.

“What is so important over there?” Dean asked, coming over to you. 

You turned your laptop to face him. 

“Seriously? You’re gonna drive yourself crazy lookin’ at that.”

“Well, sorry, but I’m trying to keep you from getting arrested,” you scoffed.

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I know.”

You looked away from your computer and back up to him with big doe eyes.

“Stop fucking looking at me like that,” Dean growled.

You tilted your head in confusion. “Why?”

“ ‘Cause I’m not gonna be able to control myself if you don't,” he replied.

Despite your earlier activities, heat flooded once more between your thighs. “Dean—”

At that moment, Sam burst through the door. “Hey.”

Dean jerked away from you, and you awkwardly returned to the computer in front of you.

“So, did you get in to see that crazy hooker?” Dean questioned, scratching the back of his neck. 

Sam nodded. “Yeah. Gloria Sitnick. And I'm not so sure she's crazy.”

“But she seriously believes that she was... touched by an angel?” Dean questioned.

“Yeah. Blinding light, feelings of spiritual ecstasy, the works. I mean, she's living in a locked ward and she's totally at peace.”

You scoffed. “Definitely completely sane. What about the guy she stabbed?”

“Uh, Carl Gully. She said she killed him because he was evil,” Sam explained. 

“Was he?” Dean asked.

The brunet shrugged. “I don't know. I mean, I couldn't find any dirt on him. I mean, he didn't have a criminal record, he worked at the campus library, had lots of friends. He was a churchgoer.”

Dean paced around, all-business mode. “Hm. So then Gloria's just your standard-issue wacko. I mean, phew, she wouldn't be the first nutjob in history to kill in the name of religion. Know what I mean?”

“No, but she's the second in town to murder because an angel told them to. Little bit odd, don't ya think?” Sam countered.

“Well, little odd, yes, supernatural, maybe. But angels? I don't think so.”

“Agreed,” you chimed in.

“Why not?” Sam asked.

“ ‘Cause angels aren’t real,” you replied.

“(Y/N/N), there's ten times as much lore about angels as there is about anything else we've ever hunted,” the younger brother reminded you.

“Yeah, you know what? There's a ton of lore on unicorns too. In fact, I hear that they, they ride on silver moonbeams, and they shoot rainbows out of their ass,” Dean grunted.

Sam sat down across from you, deadpanning, “Wait, there's no such thing as unicorns?”

“That's cute,” Dean monotoned, “I'm just saying, man, there's just some legends that you just, you file under ‘bullcrap’.”

“And you've got angels on the bullcrap list.”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“ ‘Cause I’ve never seen one,” you chimed in.

Sam furrowed his eyebrows. “So what?”

“So I believe in what I can see,” Dean argued.

“Dean! You and I have seen things that most people couldn't even dream about.”

“Sam,” you started, trying to mollify both brothers. “I think that’s his point. We can actually see that stuff. Hard proof, y’know? We don’t have hard proof of angels.”

“This is a– a demon or a spirit,” Dean continued. “You know, they find people a few fries short of a happy meal, and they trick them into killing these randoms.”

Sam sighed. “Maybe.”

“Can we just— I'm going stir-crazy, guys. Hey, let's go by Gloria's apartment, huh?” Dean begged you and Sam. 

“I was just there. Nothing. No sulfur, no EMF…” Sam trailed off.

“You didn't see any fluffy white wing feathers?” Dean deadpanned.

“But Gloria did say the angel gave her a sign, right beside Carl Gully's doorway,” Sam huffed.

Dean perked up at that notion. “Could be something at his house; it's worth checking out.”

“I don’t love that idea, Dean. Please… stay here, okay? Sam and I can handle it,” you argued.

Dean groaned. “(Y/N), I’m going fucking crazy in here. Please?”

You crossed your arms. “No.”

He went to say something again.

“No. Sam, you’re on Dean duty. I’ll be back in a few hours,” you stated firmly.

“(Y/N)—”

“Dean,” you warned. “I’ll bring you back some beers, okay?”

He huffed. 

“I’ll throw a burger and some quarters in there, too, okay?” 

Dean huffed again, but said nothing in response. 

You tugged your boots on, and Sam tossed the keys to you.

“Not a scratch, (Y/N),” Dean told you firmly.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

***

About two hours later, you returned with a six pack and burgers and fries for the boys. 

“Oh, (Y/N), thank god,” Sam exclaimed when you returned. 

“What, has he been that bad?” you asked. 

“I’m right here, y’know,’ Dean grumbled. “You bring any quarters?”

“Told you I would.” You chucked the roll of quarters and his car keys back at him. 

You put the six pack down on the table and began distributing the food between the brothers.

“Woman, you’re fucking awesome,” Dean groaned as he took a bite of his burger. 

Sam laughed. “So, what’d you find out?”

“Well, Mr. Gully had some pretty dark secrets,” you began. “I found three sets of bones buried under his house. Poor babies were kids from the local college who disappeared about a year ago. And get this; all of ‘em were last seen at the library.”

“Sick bastard,” Dean grunted. 

“So Gloria's angel—” Sam started, only to be cut off by Dean.

“Angel?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Okay. Whatever this thing is…”

“Whatever it is, it's struck again,” Dean jumped back in through a mouthful of food.

“What?” you questioned.

“Dean hasn’t put down the police radio since you left,” Sam told you. “There was this guy, uh, Zach Smith, some local drunk; he went up to a stranger's front door last night, stabbed him in the heart.”

“And then I'm guessing he went to the police and confessed?” you asked.

“Yep. Roma Downey made him do it,” Dean quipped. He took a post-it note off the mirror. “Now, I, uh, got the victim's address.”

“Dean—”

“(Y/N), I am not staying here again. Just this one thing? Please?”

“No, Dee. I’m not taking that risk. You have got to lay low,” you insisted.

“(Y/N), how are you gonna stop me from doing my job?”

“Because if it involves putting yourself at risk, then it’s not happening,” you protested. 

“My whole job is risk,” he argued, stepping closer to you. “There’s just… an added level now.”

“Exactly. Which means we have to be that much more careful. Especially considering we have the feds on our ass. I’m not letting this happen,” you shot back.

“Hate to say it, Dean, I think (Y/N)’s right,” Sam jumped in. “I’ll go check out the vic’s house. (Y/N), stay here.”

“Fine by me,” you said. 

Dean grunted in aggravation, and flopped down on the bed after putting a few quarters in the Magic Fingers machine. You knew he’d probably stay angry with you for the rest of the evening. 

After a few minutes of silence and when the rumbling came to an end, you spoke up again. “Dean,” you sighed. “I’m not trying to be a huge ass, okay? I’d be angry with me, too. But this is just… It’s a lot. And I’m trying to keep you boys as safe as possible. And I wanna help Sam with this case, but I can’t if I’m worried about you not staying put, okay?”

Dean didn’t respond, and you thought for a moment that he’d fallen asleep. At least, that was until you heard him murmur, “Okay.”

*** Sam informed you and Dean that the most recent victim had been planning to meet with a thirteen-year-old girl. Your stomach turned when he told you, and Dean looked like he would’ve kicked the guy to hell and back given the opportunity. Sam also told you that both victims went to the same church called “Our Lady of the Angels.”

“That’s funny,” you’d commented. 

Following last night’s conversation with Dean, you felt more comfortable leaving him to his own devices. And so, it was up to you and Sam to go talk to the priests at said church.

“So you're interested in joining the parish?” the priest, who’d introduced himself as Father Reynolds, asked you.

“Yes, sir,” you replied.

“Where'd you say you lived before?”

“Fremont, Texas,” you said without missing a beat.

“Really? That's a nice town,” Fr. Reynolds noted. “St. Teresa's parish, you must know the priest there.”

“Yes, sir. He’s wonderful,” you nodded.

“You know, we're just happy to be here now, Father,” Sam broke in.

“And we're happy to have you, we could use some young blood around here.”

“Hey, listen, I gotta ask,” you began hesitantly. “No offense, but uh, the neighborhood?”

Fr. Reynolds sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Well, it's gone to seed a little, there's no denying that, but that's why what the church does here is so important. Like I always say, you can expect a miracle, but in the meantime you work your butt off.”

“Yeah, we, uh, heard about the murders,” you acknowledged.

“Yes. The victims were parishioners of mine, I'd known them for years.”

Sam quirked his head to the side. “And the killers said that an angel made them do that?”

“Yes. Misguided souls, to think that God's messenger would appear and incite people to murder. It's tragic,” the priest sighed. 

“So you don't believe in the whole ‘angel’ thing?” you questioned. 

“Oh, no, I absolutely believe,” he chuckled. “Kind of goes with the job description.”

Sam nodded toward the painting on the wall. “Father, that's Michael, right?”

“That's right. The archangel Michael, with the flaming sword. The fighter of demons. Holy force against evil.”

“So they're not really the Hallmark card version that everybody thinks? They're fierce, right? Vigilant?” 

“Well, I like to think of them as more loving than wrathful. But, uh, yes, a lot of Scripture paints angels as God's warriors. ‘An angel of the Lord appeared to them, the glory of the Lord shone down upon them, and they were terrified’,” the priest finished.

You nodded sagely. “Luke two nine.”

The priest seemed surprised you knew that. “Yes, actually.”

You laughed uncomfortably. “My, uh, my mom was a pretty zealous Catholic,” you explained as Fr. Reynolds began leading you out of the door. “She’d quiz me on the bible verses every now and again.”

You could feel Sam’s eyes on you while you began heading down the steps of the church. 

“Well, thank you for speaking with us, Father,” the brunet said. 

“Oh, it's my pleasure. Hope to see you again,” the priest nodded.

You noticed a collection of tribute items at the bottom of the steps; candles, flowers, pictures, and rosaries. “Hey, Father, what's, what’s all that for?”

Fr. Reynolds deflated a bit. “Oh, that's for Father Gregory. He was a priest here.”

“Was?” you questioned.

“He passed away right on these steps. He's interred in the church crypt,” he explained.

“When did this happen?”

“Two months ago. He was shot for his car keys.”

“God, I’m so sorry,” you told him.

“Yeah, me too.” The priest couldn’t seem to tear his eyes from his friend’s memorial. “He was a good friend. I didn't even have time to administer his last rites. But like I said, it's a tough neighborhood. Ever since he died I've been praying my heart out.”

“For what?” Sam asked.

“For deliverance. From the violence and the bloodshed around here. We could use a little divine intervention, I suppose,” he replied.

“Thanks, Father. We’ll see you around sometime,” you nodded solemnly. He headed back inside.

“Well, it's all starting to make sense. Devoted priest dies a violent death? That's vengeful spirit material right there,” you noted.

Sam seemed a bit uncomfortable.

“And he knew all the vics, because they went to church here,” you continued. “In fact I'm willing to bet that because he was their priest, he knew things about them that nobody else knew. Reconciliation and all that jazz.”

“Then again, Father Reynolds started praying for God's help about two months ago, right? Right about the time all this started happening?” Sam countered.

“Sam,” you sighed. “I know you wanna believe, but I’m not really sold on this whole ‘angel’ idea. Why do you seem so convinced?”

“I don’t know,” he shook his head. “But I do know that I pray. Every single day. I have for a long time.”

You startled a bit. “Really? I had no idea.”

“And what about you?” he asked. “What made you stop?”

“Well, like I said, my mom was always a bit of a zealot,” you began. “And… let’s just say I saw how well prayin’ worked out for her.” 

Sam shot you a puppy-dog-eyed look. 

“C’mon, let’s go check out Fr. Gregory’s grave.”

Sam followed you down to the crypt. It was a bit of a maze of stone hallways lined with numerous stone angel statues. You headed a little ahead of Sam deeper into the crypt. You turned back when you noticed Sam wasn’t behind you, and then suddenly felt the ground beneath you shaking.

“Oh, fuck,” you murmured before running to where you thought Sam may be. “Sammy?” you called. “Get the rocksalt out—” You halted momentarily when you noticed Sam’s slumped over form on the ground. “Hey! Sam! Wake up!” you cried, grabbing his face in both your hands. He jerked awake as soon as you touched him. “You okay?!” you asked worriedly.

He looked past you at the angel statue behind you. “Yeah. Yeah. 'm okay.” He seemed a little startled.

You helped him to his feet and led him into the sanctuary. “You saw it, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, (Y/N), I saw an angel,” he said.

“You—” You shook your head, unsure how to approach this situation. “So. What makes you think you saw an, uh, angel?”

“It just, it appeared before me and I just, this feeling washed over me, you know? Like, like peace. Like grace,” he explained.

You swallowed harshly, feeling suddenly unsettled. “Wh—” You laughed uncomfortably.

“I know this is a lot, but I’m telling you, it spoke to me. It knew who I was,” he said.

You shook your head. “Spirits can do that, though, y’know that, right?”

Sam didn’t seem convinced. 

“Okay, let me guess,” you tried. “You were personally chosen to smite some sinner. You've just got to wait for some divine bat signal, is that it?”

“Yeah, actually,” Sam nodded.

“Great. I don't suppose you asked what this alleged bad guy did?”

“Actually I did, (Y/N). And the angel told me. He hasn't done anything. Yet. But he will,” Sam nodded.

You started pacing. “I don’t believe this.”

“(Y/N), the angel hasn’t been wrong yet!” Sam protested. “Someone's going to do something awful, and I can stop it!”

You scoffed. “You’re supposed to do something awful, too. Does that mean I’m just supposed to nuke you right now?”

“Y’know what? I don't understand! Why can't you and Dean even consider the possibility?”

“What, that this is an angel?”

“Yes! Maybe we're hunting an angel here, and we should stop! Maybe this is God's will!”

“Y’know what, Sam, if that’s what you believe, fine,” you sighed. “If faith is what helps you sleep at night and brings you a little peace, then, that’s great and I’m happy for you. But I cannot rationalize worshiping a god who’s gonna condemn me to a pit of fire and suffering for the simple fact of non-belief. I mean, think about it, man. He knows exactly what it would take to get every person to believe, and he still chooses not to show it to us.” You began to pace faster. “And, and? Why would homosexuality be the thing he chooses to put his foot down on? And if you are this great and good god, why is that love wrong? And if people believe in other religions, why does that mean they’re going to hell? What if they’re Buddhist and an exceptional person; they still have to go to hell? Hindu? I don’t fucking get it, Sam. And if my options are going to heaven with all the churchgoers— who are mostly hypocrites and these fuck-os who are abusing kids and murdering on Tuesday after just leaving church the Sunday before, then send me straight on down to hell. I’ll take eternity with actually decent people over these yuppies and troglodytes any day.” You stopped, taking a breath. “I’m sorry.”

Sam seemed shocked. “It’s okay,” he said, despite himself. 

You huffed, scratching the back of your head. “Anyway, I got some hard proof we’re dealing with a spirit.” You led him over to Father Gregory’s grave. It was crawling with mangled vines, and you crouched down in front of it. 

“That looks like—”

You cut Sam off. “Wormwood. Plant associated with the dead; specifically the ones that are not at rest. I don't see it growing anywhere else, except over the murdered priest's marker. It's him, Sam.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged.

“Maybe?”

“I don't know what to think,” he said honestly.

You sighed. “Okay. You want some more proof? I'll give you more proof.”

“How?” Sam asked.

“We'll summon Gregory's spirit,” you responded simply.

“What? Here? In the church?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Just need a few odds and ends and my journal for a séance ritual.”

“Oh, a séance, great. Hope Whoopi's available,” Sam quipped.

You deadpanned at him, “Cute. Seriously. If Father Gregory's spirit is around, a séance will bring him right to us. If it's him, then we'll put him to rest.”

“But if it's an angel, it won't show. Nothin' 'll happen.”

“Exactly,” you nodded. “And then we’ll know for sure. And then I can grovel in front of Michael or Zachariah or Castiel or whichever the hell angel it is and beg for their forgiveness before they smite me.”

“The hell kind of angel’s named Castiel?” Sam’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“Angel of temperance and serenity. Not traditional Catholicism, but I digress. I told you, my mom was a complete Jesus-freak,” you snorted. “Alright, let’s go get my journal. Hopefully Dean’s still there. I swear to god, I’ll send him to hell and back if he’s not.” *** Thankfully for Dean, he was right where you’d left him. He looked bored out of his skull, but he actually listened to you. “Jesus, how fuckin’ long does it take to talk to a priest?” 

“Not right now, Dean. Sam’s a little, uh, possessed? Cursed? Don’t know what the right word is in this situation. Divinely inspired?” you continued.

“What? He saw it?”

Sam nodded.

“We don’t have time to rehash all this. Now, Dean, you comin’ or not?” You turned to the elder brother.

“Wait, you’re letting me out?”

You scoffed. “Dean, you’re not a hostage. C’mon. We could use the help especially now that Sam’s been angel-drugged.”

Dean chuckled. 

“What?” you asked.

“Sam got touched by an angel,” he snickered.

You burst out in laughter, and Sam just deadpanned.

***

Your next stop was a small grocery store that you hoped didn’t have security cameras that would be able to identify Dean. Sam bounded out of the store holding a paper sack and chuckling. “Guys. I'll admit we've gone pretty ghetto with spellwork before, but this takes the cake. I mean, a Spongebob placemat instead of an altar cloth?”

“We'll just put it Spongebob-side down,” Dean shrugged.

Sam’s laughter subsided suddenly as he stared at someone across the street. 

“What is it?” you asked him.

“It’s him,” he replied. “That's the sign!”

“Where?” Dean questioned.

“Right there, right behind that guy! That's him, Dean. And we have to stop him,” Sam pleaded.

Sam started after him, but you and Dean held the giant man back.

“Wait a second,” you stated. 

“What are you doing? Let me go,” Sam grunted.

“You're not going to go kill somebody because a ghost told you to, are you insane?” Dean hissed.

“Dean, I'm not insane, I'm not going to kill him. I'm going to stop him.”

“Define ‘stop’, huh? I mean, what are you going to do?” Dean pressed.

“Dean, please, he's going to hurt someone, you know it.”

“Alright, come on,” Dean said finally. You moved to the other side of the car, and Dean quickly shoved you down into the backseat. 

“Dean. Unlock my door,” Sam commanded, still standing on the sidewalk.

“You're not killing anyone, Sam. (Y/N) and I got this guy, you go do the séance,” he nodded.

“Dean!” Sam called after you, but Dean was already pulling away. He followed the man who’d been holding the yellow flowers down a short distance down the street before the guy stopped in front of a girl. She got in the car with him, and your heart sank as you climbed into the front seat.

“I don’t like where this is going,” you murmured.

“Yeah, me neither.” Dean gripped the wheel tightly and started trailing the blue car again. 

The allegedly evil man soon turned down a dark alley, and you temporarily lost sight of him. Dean cursed, “Dammit!” and slammed the steering wheel in frustration.

“Dean, Dean, follow him, c’mon,” you begged, and he slammed his foot on the gas, turning down the alley he thought he’d seen the man head down. Thankfully, his guess was correct, and you and Dean quickly ran to opposite sides of the man’s car. You could hear the young woman crying and the man shouting at her as you approached. Dean punched the window, and you took that as your opportunity to quickly pull the girl out of the car. 

“Are you okay?” you asked her, grabbing her shoulders.

“Thank god!” she cried, surging forward to hug you.

You called to Dean as the man sped off in his blue car. “Dean! I got her, you follow him! I’ll catch up with you later!”

Dean nodded, sprinting back to the Impala and following the man out of the alley.

“Did he do anything to you?” you asked her.

She shook her head, still crying.

“Do you have any friends nearby? I’ll walk you to ‘em,” you told her. 

The woman nodded. “Yeah, um, my friend—” she hiccuped, “my friend Sarah lives around here.”

“Okay, can you call Sarah? Let her know you’re on your way?”

She nodded again, and you rubbed her back with your hand to soothe her while you started walking toward her friend’s apartment.

You got to know her as you walked to help her calm down and distract her from what had just happened. Her tears slowly subsided, and you seemed to have calmed her down by the time you arrived at her friend’s apartment complex. She hugged you tightly after announcing the two of you had made it. 

“Thank you so much,” she told you. 

“Anytime,” you told her. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

She nodded and headed up the front steps. She turned to you when she reached the door, waving goodbye one last time.

***

You somehow managed to get back to the motel. Surprisingly, Sarah’s apartment hadn’t been too far from it. You only needed to walk about thirty minutes before you stumbled upon it. 

“Hey,” you said as you opened the door to the Winchesters’ room. Both Dean and Sam were packing. “How’s everybody doin?”

Sam looked demoralized. “You were right. It wasn't an angel. It was Gregory. I don't know, guys, I just, uh—” he sat down on the bed. “I wanted to believe… so badly. It's so damn hard to do this, what we do. You're all alone, you know? And there's so much evil out there in the world, I feel like I could drown in it. And when I think about my destiny, when I think about how I could end up—”

Dean sat next to him. “Yeah, well, don't worry about that. All right? I'm watching out for you.”

The brunet smiled. “Yeah, I know you are. But you're just one person, Dean. And I needed to think that there was something else, watching too, you know? Some higher power. Some greater good. And that maybe…” he trailed off.

“Maybe what?” you asked.

“Maybe I could be saved.” He suddenly realized what he admitted and chuckled nervously. “But, uh, you know, that just clouded my judgment, and you're right. I mean, we've gotta go with what we know, with what we can see, with what's right there in front of our own two eyes.”

“Yeah, well, it's funny you say that,” Dean said.

“Why?” you asked.

“Gregory's spirit gave you some pretty good information. That guy in the car was bad news. We barely got there in time.”

“What happened to him?” you questioned.

“He's dead.”

“Did… Did you?” Sam asked.

The older brother shook his head. “No. But I'll tell you one thing. If— The way he died, if I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes I never would have believed it. I mean— I don't know what to call it.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “What? Dean, what did you see?” 

“Maybe… God's will.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[rubysunnday]

wanting was enough

requested by @omgbrcat: If you're willing to write for Nikolai, I'm ready to read.

a/n: they asked for fluffy... this is not fluffy like at all and for that i am sorry (i promise to write nik fluff to make up for it) ty ryn for your help

summary: Y/N has loved Nikolai since the day she met him. But now, as the blood begins to run, she has to come to terms with the fact that he'll never be hers.

The room was filled with people she knew, yet Y/N had never felt more alone or more broken.

Nikolai and Alina were engaged and Y/N found herself grieving for something she'd never had. It was an odd thing to feel a part of a group whilst also feeling a million miles away from everyone and everything.

She'd loved Nikolai since the day they'd met in the middle of Kerch, surrounded by people who wanted them dead. From there, friendship had been easy and when she'd sheepishly revealed her Grisha abilities to him - he'd enlisted Tamar and Tolya to teach her how to use them and control them.

Yet, despite the practice, her heartrender talents were still weak and, in Y/N's mind, pathetic. She understood that years of neglect and no practice would do that to someone, but it didn't help. Her confidence was non-existent and when she was surrounded by far more talented Grisha and a living Saint such as Alina, Y/N felt tiny.

Seeing Nikolai and Alina holding hands stung more than it should have. She was used to Nikolai being affectionate with people - affection was how he showed his love. But this was different. Y/N had hardly seen him since they'd gotten back to the palace and something had clearly changed between them.

Either that or it was all in Y/N's mind. She was spending a lot of time inside her head at the minute, doubting herself, doubting her abilities and her place in Nikolai's crew.

She could hear Nikolai's heartbeat from across the room - it's sound familiar and comforting to her in a way it shouldn't have been. Not anymore.

He wasn't hers and never could be hers.

She wasn't sure when friendship had turned to wanting and longing but it had. And she was trying her best to deal with it. To accept that he would never be hers.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Y/N turned and tried not to look startled at Nikolai's sudden appearance by her side. She hadn't even registered him walking over to her. Nikolai grinned crookedly at her and Y/N felt her heart swoop and glide like a bird in the breeze.

"Just wondering what your mother's definition of a big party is when this is a small one," Y/N replied, picking up a glass from a nearby tray and drinking its contents in one swoop.

Nikolai laughed, readjusting his weight from one foot to the other, his right shoulder brushing against Y/N's left. "She likes a party, what can I say. Anything under sixty people and it's intimate."

"I don't even know sixty people," Y/N replied. "I don't think I even know ten."

"It's never about the quantity of friends, it's about the quality," Nikolai replied. "A small, close friend group is better than a distant large one." He nudged her arm with his elbow. "I considered you one of my close friends."

Y/N forced herself to grin at him and tried to ignore how much the words stung at her heart. "Oh," she pointed over at Vasily as he stood up on the dais next to his father, "I think your brother is about to make a speech. You should probably go stand next to your mother and pretend to be interested."

Getting Nikolai to laugh was easy for Y/N, but even though she'd done it many times before, the sound still sent fire coursing through her veins. It wasn't the guarded laugh of a privateer. Or the forced laughter of a prince. It was just Nikolai's laugh.

"I'll be back," he warned, pointing a finger at her. "We need to discuss what you mean by pretending - I always find my brother fascinating."

"Of course you do." Y/N nodded. "I believe that, one hundred percent."

She watched as Nikolai disappeared into the crowd, appearing at his mother's side, ever the doting son. Y/N was impressed with herself that she'd managed to avoid bringing up the engagement. She hadn't had a chance to even mention it to Nikolai - it didn't seem appropriate. But she needed to know if it was genuine or just for show. She need to know for her own mind. How else would she ever be able to move on and accept she was stuck wanting for forever.

Vasily's speech started and Y/N zoned out entirely. He was a weasel of a human and represented everything wrong with Ravka in so many ways. He never had anything interesting or important to say.

It was only because she wasn't listening to Vasily that Y/N noticed the room gradually getting darker. The sun seemingly disappearing and then reappearing only to disappear once again.

She tilted her head back and, as she did so, two shapeless shadows smashed through the glass of the skylight, slamming into the ground and taking two of the first army guards out with them. One of the shadows grabbed Vasily and, in a blink of an eye, ripped him apart.

The screaming started instantly. Y/N's eyes focused on the shadows and she realised with cold horror that they were Kirigan's Nichevo'ya. At once, she began looking for Alina, who was safely on the other side of the room with Tamar and Adrik.

The Nichevo'ya shot towards her and Y/N dodged out the way, turning and running away - because what else could she do? They had no heartbeats and, even if they did, she wouldn't be able to take them down. She wasn't strong enough.

"Y/N!"

Nikolai snatched her hand and pulled her to his side as a table flew across the room, a body following in its path. Y/N gripped Nikolai's jacket for a moment before she let go and forced herself to take a step back, to create space between them.

"Down to the tunnels!" Nikolai yelled, raising his voice to be heard over the screaming. He began to move backwards, his hand still on Y/N's arm. "Regroup there!"

As Adrik and Nadia distracted the Nichevo'ya as best they could, the small party that had gathered behind Nikolai began to follow their now king and had down to the tunnels beneath the palace.

Y/N brought up the rear of the group, keeping one eye over her shoulder incase the Nichevo'ya decided to follow after them. But they seemed content to feast on those left behind in the ballroom.

She was so focused on making sure the Nichevo'ya weren't following, that Y/N didn't even notice cracks in the walls beginning to form and then splinter up and around.

Only when she saw the first piece of wall fall did she even realise what was happening. She turned around and there was no one behind her - they'd all made it through to the tunnels, including Nikolai, leaving her alone out in the corridor.

For a moment, she wondered if anyone would miss her if she disappeared.

Another piece of wall fell and, as it did, a Nichevo'ya began to appear from around a corner, it's shape constantly changing as the shadows withered and curled.

Y/N brought her hands together, searching for a heartbeat to control, but there was none. Of course there wasn't. They were made of nothing.

The cracks had reached the ceiling and more rubble fell down, smashing against the floor all around her. A particularly large piece fell away and Y/N threw herself back, barely avoiding its impact as she scrabbled across the tiled floor, trying to get to the tunnel entrance.

Her body wasn't cooperating, fear of the Nichevo'ya striking through her and rendering her almost useless. She tried not to look up at the skull like face forming in the shadows, but it was impossible to look away as it loomed over her. Almost as if she'd been hypnotised by them.

"Y/N!"

Hands came around her waist and they yanked her up and onto her feet. The roof was falling down around them now, large chunks of stone smashing into pieces on the tiles, the small bits flying back up into the air. Y/N felt something whizz past her cheek, leaving a stinging line behind.

Everything was a blur. As the rest of the ceiling came away, the Nichevo'ya launched forward, its tendrils snaking towards Y/N. They sliced down her arm and, as they made contact, Y/N brought her left hand to her right and felt something within the mass of black.

Focusing on that and that alone, Y/N forced it to slow down, to stop. Sensing danger, the tendrils came away, retreating back into the shadows. As they did, the ceiling gave way. Whoever had grabbed her from behind pushed her into the tunnels and then darkness obscured her vision.

"Y/N, look at me."

Hands rested on both her cheeks. A thumb stroked up and down her cheek bone. As her eyes began to adjust to the dark light of the tunnels, and the panic and fear began to fade, Nikolai came into view, his eyes full of concern.

"You good?" He asked softly, his eyes darting to her arm for a moment before coming back to her face.

"Sorry," Y/N said, blinking furiously. "I froze. I didn't mean to, I should've -"

"Hey, there's plenty of things we all should have done," Nikolai said gently, his thumb pressing lightly against her skin as he moved it up and down. "The Nichevo'ya do weird things to people. But we're safe, we made it into the tunnels."

Nikolai's words did little to reassure her. Instead, they made Y/N panic even more. She moved back from him and got to her feet, leaving Nikolai crouched in front of an empty space.

"You need to go see what's going on," Y/N said, putting more distance between them. "You are the king now."

A hundred different emotions filtered across Nikolai's face. His eyes seemed to grow slightly harder and his back straightened. As he went to speak, a guard appeared at his side and began to lead him away and down into the tunnels, leaving Y/N alone once more.

Y/N took a deep breath in and swore softly as she felt her arm burning and stinging for the first time. She looked down and saw a gash running from her shoulder down to her elbow.

Y/N winced as she tentatively pulled back the fabric from her arm, trying to see it better. The edges were bright red and blood was running down and to her wrist, dripping off her fingers.

She didn't feel fine but, for now, she pushed her pain and exhaustion aside, pushing herself off the wall she'd come to lean on.

The tunnels were organised chaos. Bodies lay against the walls, covered with blankets, flags, sacks - whatever people could find. Y/N walked, rather stumbled, down them, searching for her friends, hoping they were still alive and in one piece.

It wasn't long before she found them. Adrik was groaning in pain, swearing as quietly as he could as David examined his arm, his hands gently pulling away the shredded fabric from the gaping wounds on his arm and hand.

Y/N picked up her pace and rushed over to them, kneeling down beside David. "What happened?"

"Fucking Nichevo'ya," Adrik panted. He groaned, closing his eyes tightly as David pressed on the skin around the wound.

"Y/N," Nadia said, her arms around her brother, "can you do anything?"

"I'm not a healer," Y/N warned, her hand gently replacing David's as she took Adrik's arm.

"I don't care," Adrik said, groaning. "Just do something."

Y/N nodded. She took a deep breath in, trying to ignore the throbbing in her own arm. Her hands shook slightly.

David put a hand on her uninjured shoulder and squeezed it gently. "You can do it," he said quietly.

Y/N focused on Adrik's arm, on the skin and the blood thrumming through his veins and spilling out onto the floor. She could feel her energy seeping out through her body as she worked on Adrik's arm, trying to slow the bleeding and heal what she could.

As she did, she felt the pain in her arm gradually growing. It was hard to tell if the room was tilted or if she herself was tilting.

"Y/N," Tamar said softly. Y/N wasn't sure when she'd appeared. "Your arm."

"It's fine," Y/N said. She took a deep breath in as the pain got worse, her arm throbbing and burning.

Then, suddenly, it wasn't fine. Y/N felt the all to familiar feeling of nausea building up in her throat, her heart beat increased as her body ran out of energy.

Y/N swayed and she fell sideways and into David, the Durast doing his best to catch her.

Tamar was instantly at her side, her hand gripping Y/N's tightly. She pressed her fingers to her pulse point and Y/N felt the all too familiar feeling of someone else controlling her heartbeat.

"Adrik," Y/N muttered, slumping further back into David's chest, his arms wrapping around her.

"Nadia's got him," Tamar said, reaching her spare hand out to stroke Y/N's cheek. "You should've said something. Your arm is not fine."

Y/N closed her eyes, feeling the tears burning. She didn't know if they were from the pain or because of how useless she felt. "I'm fine," Y/N said, trying to sit up.

Both David and Tamar pushed her back down - neither one having to use much force at all.

"Nikolai!"

Y/N felt panic rise within her as Tamar summoned the now king over to them. Tamar glanced down at her, her eyebrows raised slightly, and Y/N realised her heart had also sped up.

Fucking heartrenders.

"What's wrong?" Nikolai asked, walking over to them.

He didn't see Y/N until he moved around David and saw her lying against him, blood pooling on the floor from the wound on her arm, Tamar's hand still on her wrist.

"Y/N, saints," Nikolai said, instantly dropping to his knees beside her.

Y/N vaguely realised that he'd shed his blazer and rolled his shirt sleeves up. His hands hovered over her arm, shaking every so slightly.

"She's losing too much blood," Tamar said quietly, trying her best to not alarm Y/N, who was gradually getting paler.

Nikolai nodded. "There's a healer down the tunnel with the courtiers."

Tamar, sensing Nikolai's hesitation, let go of Y/N's hand and stood up. "I'll go get them. See if you can find a bed or somewhere to lay her down."

Y/N didn't realise Nikolai had moved closer to her and slipped his arms around her back and under her legs until he lifted her up into his arms, adjusting his shoulder so that her head came to rest against it.

"David, stay with Adrik and Nadia," Nikolai said, taking a step back. "Tamar will be back soon."

Y/N was in too much pain to even try to fight Nikolai as he carried her through the tunnels. Through her half closed eyes, she could see the stares coming their way - the judgement and disgust all aimed at her.

But she didn't care. Because Nikolai was holding her close and, for a moment, she felt as if everything was ok. Nikolai was hers and only hers.

Everything faded away, leaving her floating around, relishing each touch, each way Nikolai's bare arms brushed against her.

"Y/N!"

She jumped slightly, her eyes slowly opening, taking their time to focus. Nikolai was knelt beside her, his hands cradling hers. Y/N realised that he was no longer carrying her and that she was lying down in a quieter part of the tunnels.

As her eyes focused, she noticed that Nikolai's eyes were red, his skin starting to go blotchy. Y/N moved her head slightly and saw Tamar kneeling behind her, one hand on her chest, the other on Nikolai's arm.

"Your heart stopped," Nikolai said quietly, when he noticed her confused gaze. "You went still and I..." Nikolai's voice cracked and he trailed off.

Tamar squeezed his arm as she stood up, leaving the two alone. The healer, who Y/N had only just noticed, also gave them some privacy, moving on to his next patient. Y/N glanced down at her arm and saw that it had stopped bleeding, the edges of the wound closer than they had been.

"I'm sorry," Y/N whispered, not sure what to say to Nikolai.

Nikolai raised his head, his eyes shining with tears. "Whatever for?"

Y/N didn't know. "I -"

"This is not your fault," Nikolai said, somehow moving closer. "None of this is."

One hand let go of hers, moving up to the side of her head. He began to brush back her hair with the pad of his thumb, the movement repetitive and calming enough it almost sent Y/N to sleep.

"Is Adrik ok?" Y/N asked, the memory of his ruined arm coming back at her with force.

Nikolai hesitated for a second. "He lost the arm," he said gently. "But he's alive, because of you."

"I could've done more," Y/N protested, tears leaking out the corners of her eyes. "If I'd been stronger or better -"

"The outcome would not have changed," Nikolai insisted, his thumb wiping away her tears. "Even the healer couldn't do anything more. What you did do, saved his life, Y/N."

Y/N nodded once, more tears spilling onto her cheeks. "Is this not improper?" She asked as Nikolai reached over to her other cheek, wiping the tears away again.

"What?" He asked, staring at her in disbelief.

"You're engaged," she said, her voice breaking on the last word as a sob broke through.

It took a second but understanding dawned on Nikolai's face and he let out a heavy breath, tinged with sadness.

"Oh, Y/N," he whispered. "You could've -"

"I couldn't, Nik," she said hoarsely. "I had to presume that it was just me - you had your eyes set on every other woman about and I -"

"No, stop that right now," Nikolai said, leaning close. "I... I have loved you since the moment I met you. I just assumed you loved Sturmhond, not Nikolai."

"I love you," Y/N said, her voice strong. "I love whoever you chose to be. Whether it's prince or pirate -"

"Privateer."

" - king or pauper," Y/N finished, her voice quiet as whatever energy had come disappeared. "I love whoever you chose to be. I just love you, Nikolai."

Nikolai nodded, tears running down his cheeks. He leant forward, resting his head against Y/N's chest and her fingers began to running through his hair and down to the nape of his neck.

She knew he was listening to her heart beating. She was doing exactly the same. The sound familiar and comforting for all the right reasons.

[scuderiasundays]

happy wife, happy life

summary: flights on air verstappen, a game of padel, and declarations of love + a little insta au at the end 💌

words: 919

a/n: here’s part two to better together. i’m considering making this a multi-part story so let me know if that’s something you’d want! hugs and kisses 🫶🏼

"Austin, Mexico City, São Paulo, Las Vegas, Abu Dhabi. Any preference?"

Lando’s voice was drowned out by the celebratory air coursing through McLaren Hospitality. He was calling from his driver room in Lusail, still soaked in champagne after a phenomenal comeback drive.

“I think you’ve earned the right to pick. My God, three podiums in a row, Lando!”

You squealed, as if you weren’t speaking to the very man who had accomplished this feat.

After a quick pause, he replied, “Vegas, it is then. I think I can secure seats on Air Verstappen if I use my charm.”

-

Max, the first of Lando's friends you’d been introduced to, extended his hand as you stepped onboard.

"So, this is 'airport girl.' I've heard quite a bit about you," he said, stealing glances at a blushing Lando.

You shook his hand. "Only good things, I hope."

The setting sun painted the cabin a soft orange as dinner was served, seamlessly shifting the conversation toward plans for the weekend. "Are we still up for padel on Friday?" Max asked, the anticipation evident in his voice.

"We're short a player. Jon busted his shoulder last week, so I'm in need of an alternate," Lando replied.

Max gestured towards you. "She's right next to you, mate."

Mid-bite, you wagged your finger at both Max and Lando. Racket sports weren’t your forte, and the idea of padel with ragingly competitive Formula 1 drivers made you queasy.

-

You’d assumed the 12-hour flight had been long enough for Lando to let go of the whole idea. He, however, promptly proved you wrong as he lifted your bags into the back of a blacked-out Escalade.

“Remember that book you were reading? The one about love languages?” You nodded, climbing into the car.

“Well, I figure my love language is quality time. And what better way to spend our time than with a game of padel?”

You hesitated, jokingly glaring at him. "I never thought that book was going to come back and bite me in the ass.”

“Karma is your boyfriend,” he whispered as he laced his fingers around yours.

The casual mention of "boyfriend" (and his general knowledge of Taylor Swift lyrics) caught you off guard and, as your heart raced, you made a desperate effort to maintain composure. You couldn’t possibly say no to his desperate gaze and, so with a loud sigh, you caved.

-

The days that followed felt more like a haze. DJ Lando stole the show at Omnia, carrying a wasted Oscar home in the aftermath. Golfer Lando took you to glow-in-the-dark mini-golf, subsequently blaming his loss on a lack of practice (“You should see me at my best”). F1 Lando gave you a little peck before disappearing into the media pen. You’d been so engrossed in it all that you were on the padel court before you knew it.

As the points went back and forth, you and Lando found yourselves in a playful dispute over who was the rightful owner of the five dollars you’d won at the slots. Lando had paid but you had pushed the button that had brought you sweet victory.

Max quickly interjected, "Maybe you two should save the bickering for the post-game press conference."

George, echoing Max, teased, "He’s got a point. Beware or you’ll be immortalized as a sassy TikTok sound.”

“You know, I’m here to fight. I’m here to win.” Lando said, taunting George as he prepared to serve.

Much to everyone’s surprise, you and Lando turned out to be a stellar team, securing a hard-fought win. Instead of the traditional champagne spray, you spritzed a sweaty Lando with your perfume.

"I smell like you now," he said with a smirk.

You caught your breath on a bench as George strutted over, towering over you.

"You’re already on his mind 24/7. Now, you want to linger on his clothes too? Greedy!"

As you and Lando were about to head back to the car, a few fans hurried over, their elation palpable.

“We’re huge fans, Lando. Could we get a quick photo before you go?”

Lando was quick to oblige and asked you to hold their gifts (a snapback and a handful of bracelets). You offered to take photos of him with the girls, his aura radiant as he took his time to thank each of them.

Little did either of you know, the photos of you and him at the padel courts would soon be circulating all over social media, your phones blowing up with notifications from countless F1 gossip accounts.

-

In the dim glow of the car's interior, you caught a glimpse of him, jaw clenched and a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. The not-so-soft hum of the engine roared as you cut through the tension.

"Hey, what’s on your mind?"

"I just never want you to feel suffocated by all the noise that comes with being my girlfriend."

"Your girlfriend?" you teased, masking your anticipation with feigned innocence.

He sighed, his hands momentarily tightening on the steering wheel. The car smoothly veered into an old gas station, its solitary lights flickering in the night.

He turned to face you, his eyes searching yours. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

A smile lit up your face. "I thought I already was.”

He shook his head, a mixture of exasperation and affection on his face. "You truly are impossible, y’know."

"Snap a picture of your girl then, Mr. JPG," you quipped.

His hands searched the backseat for his Leica.

"Happy wife, happy life.”

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

liked by martingarrix, yourusername, and 41,414 others 

landonorris: on a roll! two more to go 👊🏼

ciscanorris: couldn’t be more proud. i sense a mclaren 1-2 coming!

mclaren: mother knows best ✨

fan1: king of the soft launch

oscarpiastri: let’s finish the season off strong!

maxverstappen1: some of the line calls made by your doubles partner were questionable 🤨 

max_fewtrell: a partner other than i? whoever could it be?

landonorris: i’m starting to doubt my friendships with guys named max

fan2: i’m all for it so long as mystery girl gives us the boyfriend content we deserve 🫶🏼

tags 📝

@silverstonesainz @monzabee @sainzcaleruega @vamossainz55 @0-atmilklatte @aacherrylips @merchelsea @al-luvx @itsjustkhaos @allenajade-ite @simp4f1 @strawberrysainz @avenger122 @405rry @lpab @thebrccoliwasdone @antiheroleclerc

[diorsluv]

feather , part 4

“ when it’s on a platter for you ”

series m. list previous chapter next chapter

( socialmedia!au )

yourusername

liked by lhughes_06, _alexturcotte, trevorzegras, and 29,377 others

yourusername TELL ME I ATE IT UP 🥱

view all comments

username27 OH MY GODDDDD I THINK I’M IN LOVE

mackie.samo where’s my photo creds.

→ yourusername oops

jamie.drysdale is that the necklace i got you for your birthday?

→ yourusername it is 🙄🙄

→ trevorzegras aka the necklace I SUGGESTED

→ jamie.drysdale yeah yeah we get it 🫤 trevorzegras

username13 good genes run in the goddamn family

username5 I JUST WANT ONE CHANCE. JUST. ONE. CHANCE.

lhughes_06 woah

→ markestapa bro’s in love

→ lhughes_06 hold ur horses bro

→ edwards.73 HOLD UR HORSES??? mans in fucking texas 😂😂😂

→ yourusername okay everyone needs to stop using that emoji right now

→ luca.fantilli and she just completely ignores the first reply

→ lhughes_06 what first reply? luca.fantilli

→ yourusername fr what he said!! idk what “first reply” ur talking abt luca.fantilli !!!!!

username88 the umich replies are always so weird 😭😭

colecaufield lil drizz is growing upppp

→ yourusername i should just give up shouldn’t i

→ trevorzegras you’re never living the nickname down 😁

adamfantilli THOSE ARE THE RINGS I GAVE YOU FOR CHRISTMAS LAST YEAR

→ yourusername THEY ARE ☺️☺️

→ jamie.drysdale okay so are you just wearing everyone’s jewelry..

→ yourusername yes do you have a problem???

→ jamie.drysdale no…….

→ adamfantilli how’d i get roped into family drama

yourusername

liked by mackie.samo, jackhughes, jamie.drysdale and 50,736 others

yourusername mackie stole me from my quality hughes time and dragged me to quality samoskevich time

tagged: mackie.samo, msamoskevich, maddysamo

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lhughes_06 petition to bring her back to where she belongs (WITH US)

→ jackhughes SIGNING ALL THE DAMN LINES ✍️✍️✍️✍️✍️✍️

→ _quinnhughes BRING HER BACK.

→ yourusername thought u hated me quinny

→ _quinnhughes i’d rather have you here than with……….... THEM. 😒

→ mackie.samo i’d say she likes it better being here with us 😤

→ msamoskevich yeah, WE didn’t post bad pictures of her on our public instas

→ maddysamo and we didn’t almost drown her in a lake either

→ jackhughes this means war. mackie.samo maddysamo msamoskevich

→ yourusername wait WHAT

username91 oh god

username7 HUGHES VS SAMOS PLACE YOUR BETS HERE

username10 personally i think the hughes bros are gonna win

username64 she’s always had a soft spot for mackie so i think samos might win ngl

luca.fantilli LIL DRIZZLE WHAT HAVE YOU DONE

→ yourusername I DIDN’T THINK THEY WERE GONNA FUCKING FIGHT OVER ME

adamfantilli CAN I BE THE REFEREE

→ lhughes_06 this is WAR not a silly little GAME 🤬🤬🤬

trevorzegras what the hell is happening

→ jamie.drysdale luke and mack are fighting over my sister

→ yourusername THAT’S NOT WHAT’S GOING ON jamie.drysdale

→ trevorzegras LIL DRIZZY DID YOU JUST PIT TWO FAMILIES AGAINST EACH OTHER

→ yourusername i’ve officially given up

username57 THE WAR HAS COME

maddysamo

liked by yourusername, trevorzegras, colecaufield, and 30,007 others

maddysamo us on summer vacation in 2022 because SHE LOVES US MORE

tagged: yourusername

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yourusername oh my goddd LAST SUMMER WAS SO FUN i wish i could go back 😕😕

_quinnhughes oh please this is weak compared to ours

jackhughes c’mon you can do better than that

msamoskevich i’ve never seen her so happy 😊

→ lhughes_06 clearly you haven’t seen her when she’s on vacation with us

comments on this post have been limited

jackhughes

liked by yourusername, adamfantilli, _quinnhughes, and 56,512 others

jackhughes spring break in korea 2021 when she BEGGED us to let her come with

tagged: yourusername

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yourusername UM HELLO??? you guys are digging in the ARCHIVES for these photos 😦

yourusername and also i didn’t beg you, it was actually the other way around……….. don’t spread rumors rowdy 🙄🙄

mackie.samo when the fuck did you go to korea????

→ _quinnhughes in spring break 2021 keep up

maddysamo oh so YOU haven’t been on a recent vacation with her like we have, i see i see

comments on this post have been limited

mackie.samo

liked by edwards.73, markestapa, yourusername, and 62,628 others

mackie.samo since jack wanted to be all nostalgic, here’s a couple photos from 2020 🙄

tagged: yourusername

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jackhughes were subways even open in 2020??

→ msamoskevich no shit 🙄🙄 we wouldn’t have been able to even get these photos if they weren’t

yourusername I FORGOT ABOUT THESE PICS WHAT THE HELLLLL

lhughes_06 doesn’t matter bc she was at our house almost every day when covid hit

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lhughes_06

liked by _alexturcotte, yourusername, jamie.drysdale, and 78,280 others

lhughes_06 more korea pics bc lil drizzy was lookin dripped out

tagged: yourusername

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markestapa bro does NOT sound like he cares about the ongoing war

yourusername luke sweetie..

→ lhughes_06 yes? ☺️

mackie.samo stop taking pics from the same vacation you’re looking DESPERATE 🥱🥱

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maddysamo

liked by yourusername, dylanduke25, colecaufield, and 63,412 others

maddysamo look at my cutie 🥰

tagged: yourusername

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yourusername STOP ITTTT I LOVE U

_quinnhughes when did it turn into them flirting

jackhughes i hear a certain someone getting jealous

→ lhughes_06 really who is it????

msamoskevich I TOOK THOSE PHOTOS (creds: me 2023)

mackie.samo barely heard a PEEP from moosey poo

→ lhughes_06 istg u better not call me that ever again

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lhughes_06

liked by yourusername, luca.fantilli, trevorzegras, and 85,680 others

lhughes_06 some pictures i snapped out in the city the night before my draft day

tagged: yourusername

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yourusername LUKE STOP IT RN. ur making me tear up 😭

→ lhughes_06 miss those days

maddysamo THIS IS EMOTIONAL BARGAINING THIS CAN’T COUNT

→ jackhughes wtf is “emotional bargaining”

msamoskevich WE WILL NOT STAND FOR THIS INJUSTICE

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mackie.samo

liked by jamie.drysdale, rutgermcgroarty, luca.fantilli, and 79,006 others

mackie.samo last post, her when we took her out for her birthday last year AND HER WHOLE OUTFIT WAS CLOTHES I BOUGHT HER

tagged: yourusername

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yourusername best birthday i could’ve ever asked for 🫶

→ maddysamo NO STOP ITTTTT

_quinnhughes WHAT HAPPENED TO ALL YOUR BIRTHDAYS AT THE LAKE HOUSE??

→ yourusername YOU ALMOST KILLED ME EVERY SINGLE TIME

→ jackhughes u set a girl’s dress on fire once ON ACCIDENT and u never live it down 😔

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next chapter notes ) THIS WAS ACTUALLY SO FUCKING FUN TO MAKE AND THE FEUD WAS SO CUTE not giving an actual winner tho so u guys can decide 😈 this is also like the longest one i’ve ever done (obviously) AND I LOVED IT SO MUCH but i think i’m gonna stick to two-ish posts per chapter…….

[pureastrologywisdom]

The Mixing of Signs in a Natal Chart

I am going to be using celebrity examples to show you how signs expression can mix together to give you a better idea on how to spot it. We often talk about signs alone, which is a great starting point but being able to understand the way that they come across in a melting pot that is a natal chart is another thing entirely. 

It’s also incredibly interesting when you look at celebrities who have a similar mix of signs or placement to you. You start to recognise yourself in them or similarities. These can be people you heavily resonate with but had no idea why exactly.

Jane Birkin

Before looking at her chart I knew there would be some virgo and sagittarius placements together. Perhaps I recognised this energy from my own chart.

She was a very influential figure in fashion 

She had a Virgo moon and a Sagittarius Sun and Mars. Along with this she had a Gemini Ascendant.

This was truly fascinating to me when I found it out because of what she is so known for.

She is the reason we have the infamous Birkin Bag from Hermès. 

The executive chairman of Hermès sat next to her on a flight. Supposedly her stuff fell out of her bag and the executive chairman told her she should have a bad with pockets. To which she replied ‘The day Hermès makes one with pockets I will have that’.

When the man revealed who he was Jane took it upon herself to tell him that they should make a bigger bad and she sketched an idea for him. 

From this the birkin bag was born. 

What is so interesting is that she has a gemini rising - gemini is known for ruling over the hands, so of course she influenced a bag that was hand held to the world.

Alongside this Virgo is know for being detailed oriented or ‘knit picky’ if you will. She saw a detail she wanted changed. Virgo is known for organisation, however people often understand what this truly means. Virgo likes to be organised but often this is more of an organised chaos., The Birkin bag is known for being a bag you carry everything in you need and that you throw around and get a little tatty. Throw in the influence of always on the go sagittarius here and you can see how this mixes well together. Sagittarius is about travelling long distances, this bag was made for its longevity and quality (virgo), its durability and adaptability (gemini) and you can take ti with you anywhere (sagittarius).

Thank you for reading, I am very excited to to more with this series <3

Pureastrowisdom <3

[projectbluearcadia]

Well-Deserved Rest

NSFW Sub!Lucifer x GN!MC Spice Rating - 3/4 ; BDSM Rating 0/3

[ Premise - Lucifer is all stressed out again, and you’ve decided that you’re going to make him unwind by taking control and spoiling the shit out of him. ]

Lucifer makes me sub... but sub!Luci makes me want to dom his ass.

CW: None, really? One spank, Lucifer receiving.

Wordcount - 2546

smutty notes (consult if you haven’t read my smut before.)

“Lucifer?” you say in shock as you watch the oldest brother, not even wearing his waistcoat or his gloves in the kitchen. His sleeves are hiked up to his elbows, his crimson tie missing. He gazes at you for a long moment, just as he reaches the coffee grinder, and the stress in his eyes momentarily seems to ease before he looks away. 

“Morning,” he mumbles, filling the grinder with fresh beans, and the machine hums quietly before the sound of coffee being ground fills the air, along with its wonderful scent. 

“Lucifer… did you even sleep?” you ask, and at first, you think he’s ignoring you, and on the off-chance that he couldn’t hear you over the grinder, you decide to wait until it’s finished. “Lucifer. Did you sleep?” 

“What? Oh… I think I did?” He takes the grounds out, pushing them into a neat little puck before packing it into the espresso machine. 

“You think?” you ask. “If you’re not going to sleep next to me, the least you can do is actually take more than a power nap. Seriously; this is getting ridiculous. You should not be getting up in the middle of the night to do work, much less pulling all-nighters.” 

“I’ve gone for more than a month with less than an hour of sleep; I’ll be fine,” he mumbles, taking his coffee cup out from underneath the machine. “I don’t need you to mind me like I’m some kind of child. I know where my limits are.” 

You fold your arms at him, half-tempted to actually yell at him with frustration. Though you’ve been getting him to fix some of his unhealthy habits, R.A.D. loves throwing a wrench in the works, whether it’s Diavolo, the students, his brothers, or diplomatic meetings. 

“Hey!” you protest as Lucifer starts walking off with his coffee, and he pauses to look back at you. 

“I have to go back to work, MC. Later?” Meaning, I will not discuss this with you now, and I’m going whether you want me to or not; be content with the fact that you’ve seen me at all today. 

“You’d better come to bed tonight, Lucifer,” you growl at him, and he softly chuckles. “By 11 P.M. If you’re not there, I’m going to drag you there by force.” 

“Yes, honey, I’ll come to bed. So greedy…” His voice trails off as he travels out of earshot, and you grumble a retort. I’m going to make sure you have a proper rest, you son of a bitch. 

—

You’re sitting in front of Lucifer’s fireplace, reading one of Satan’s book recommendations when you hear Lucifer knock on the frame of his bedroom door..

“Here I am, as requested,” Lucifer says, and you hear his leather oxfords briefly clack against the wooden floor before muffling against his rug. Then he’s behind your chair, pulling his hands over yours, leaning his head down to kiss your temple. “Come on… don’t be mad at me,” he whispers sweetly, rubbing your arms up and down. “I know it’s been a lonely week, so let’s go out for some quality time on Sunday.” Lucifer kisses your cheek, teasing your bookmark from your fingers and closing your book on it. “Maybe we can go shopping… or maybe we can see a show… go to your favorite restaurant for dinner…” He drags his lips against the back of your ear, his voice lowering by an octave. “Have lots of sex when we get home… how does that sound, darling?” 

“I’m still mad at you,” you reply, and he pauses, his mouth opening to try to butter you up some more, but you don’t let him. “If you want me to stop being mad, I get to torture you when I fuck you tonight.” It’s not an unreasonable request per se, considering you’ve topped him before. It’s just not one that Lucifer expects you to ask so bluntly, which is why he doesn’t answer you for several uncomfortably long moments. 

“Do whatever you please with me then,” he responds, finally, and you get up to turn and look back at him. Surprisingly enough, he looks a little nervous, and you barely stop yourself from launching at him in a fit of cuteness aggression. “Am I allowed to touch you this time…?” God, fuck, stop me from ripping his clothes off; I want to tease him. 

“Yes,” you reply after a moment, “but you’re not allowed to switch to being dominant halfway through doing that. That means not taking advantage of your demon strength.” 

“I agreed to this; I want to make it up to you,” Lucifer concedes softly, loosely pulling his arms around your lower back. “I’ll be your stress toy tonight, okay?” Oh, honey, that is far from what I have planned.

“That’s my good little demon,” you murmur, rubbing his head slowly, and a faint blush scatters over his cheeks at the praise. He opens his mouth to ask a question, but you cut him off as you push your lips against his, a soft groan leaving his mouth as you pull his hair and dominate his tongue. His fingers stray under your shirt, caressing the skin of your back with deliberate slowness as if he needed to savor every second he was allowed to touch you. 

“Mn,” he grunts into your mouth as you tease your fingers up his inner thigh, teasing him until his hands stiffen, struggling to restrain himself from picking you up on his waist and carrying you to bed. “Ugh,” he gasps, breaking from your lips as you rub the palm of your hand against his rapidly growing bulge. “MC…”

“Remember what I told you, Lucifer,” you murmur against his lips before you shut him up, lightly tucking your fingertips underneath his shirt, stroking up his navel, into the crevice of his abdominal muscles. He relaxes a little with this little motion of yours, only to make a startled sound into your mouth as a high-pitched zip! hits the air. “You’re already like this?” you murmur against his ear as you run your thumb over his cock, straining to escape his underwear. You can feel Lucifer’s skin running hotter as you do so, his breath getting shorter. “Good boy.” 

“Hah…” Lucifer gasps softly before he mumbles a soft protest. 

“Oh? Then why’d your little soldier respond so eagerly, hm?” you tease, and a faint blush scatters over his cheeks as you take your time freeing his cock from its clothy confinement. It even starts to drip little white tears of gratitude. 

“...because evidently, I liked it,” he admits with a bit of an embarrassed chuckle. 

“You’re adorable,” you murmur sweetly, wrapping your hand around his member and half debating whether or not you wanted to wipe that calm look off his face by pushing him onto the bed and sucking on it. No, no, MC, work up to that. Make him orgasm in progressively more exciting ways. 

“Right back at you,” Lucifer replies, breathless as he watches you intently, his hands rubbing your waist up and down, up and down. “And incredibly fucking tempting.” He squeezes your hips, a naughty grunt slipping past his teeth when you give his wanting tip some special attention.

“But you’re very good at resisting, aren’t you, darling? You’re doing so well, Lucifer.” 

“Shit,” he groans before you kiss him again, stroking him much harder, and an almost needy moan sinks into your mouth. Ugh, I want to make him cum his brains out. “Mnn… mmm…” You can feel how close he is just by his kiss as he stops all forms of playful resistance, his lip twitching faintly as he tries not to close his mouth. His erection is just as antsy, right about ready to burst. 

“Go on, sweetheart. Cum for me,” you whisper against his lips, panting, before you swallow his soft, reluctant moan as he coats your hand in his sticky, off-white semen. “See? You’re a good boy, Lucifer.” You ruffle your clean hand into his hair, and he leans into your touch, closing his eyes and blushing badly at his own actions. His tired face already looks relaxed. “Come on. Let’s go sit on the bed.” 

And, as if to get back at you for how embarrassed he was, he unexpectedly squeezes your ass—hard—in both hands. You almost yelp, and you smack his ass in return, making him chuckle as you shake your hand with a wince. 

He does not protest as you push him onto the edge of the bed, his lips parted as if waiting for another kiss, and you decide to grant his wish. He deserves some thorough spoiling for all that work he does. 

“Take your shirt off for me,” you order, and as he does so after a moment of hesitation, you finally pay some attention to your white-slicked hand. Without breaking eye contact with Lucifer, you lick his semen off, watching him grip his covers while his demon form starts to slip out at the undoubtedly crude sight. 

“MC, please… if you don’t want me to attack you right now, tie me up,” he grinds out as you suck two fingers slowly before letting them pop out of your mouth. “I can’t restrain myself for this.” 

“Yes, you can,” you soothe, laying your hands on his thighs. “But if you want me to get the rope out from under the bed, that’s a different story…” You lean towards his ear to bite the shell. “Your cum is very thick and rich, by the way.” 

You can tell, as you lean back, that he’s so close to snapping and railing you into oblivion that he’s nearly glaring at you with lust. If your sex wasn’t dripping before, it is now. 

“I don’t want you to,” he mumbles, slowly relaxing his muscles, one by one. “But I do want to be… obedient for you.” He has to grind out the last words, his face flushing a little again as he averts his eyes from yours. 

“But you’re already being so obedient,” you reply gently, kissing his neck. “Being my perfect demon. Don’t be so hard on yourself, honey. You’re doing just fine.” A rewarding little groan slips out of his throat, and you kiss down to his collarbone, offering him a gentle nibble. 

“MC, I really can’t do this,” he rasps out as you rub your fingers up and down his chest, going around to his back to rub firm little circles on his lower back. You wordlessly and gently hush him with the finger of your other hand as he tries to continue before you lower your head again to kiss near one of his nipples. You desperately wish in that second that he liked it when you toyed with them, but alas… 

Despite the fact that Lucifer fully shifts into his demon form as he loses patience, he doesn’t act on it as you work your way down his midsection, down his pretty abs. He is, however, much stiffer than you’d prefer, so you make sure to shower him with some extra praise for being so good for you. 

“That’s right, Lucifer. You’re doing it all by yourself.” You kiss his v-line. “I’m proud of you.” 

“Dammit, don’t do that to me,” he moans, covering his mouth. “Please don’t do what I hope you’re doing.” You almost laugh at him for purposely denying himself pleasure; there would be none of that tonight. 

“Why not?” you purr, your cheek practically rubbing his swollen, rosy-headed penis. His wings cutely flutter at the contact. “I want seconds… while it’s still hot.” You kiss his base, and one of his hands tangles into your hair, the veins on his forearm sharply standing out as he stopped himself from pulling. His expression screeches at you, screeches, that he wants to fill your mouth up so much that his seed will flow down your chin. Dear God, why did you make this sexy creature and piss him off? I mean, more for me, but still. “Can you do that for me, you absurdly sexy bastard?” Didn’t mean to add that last part, but I guess he liked that.

“Fuck me,” he groans obscenely as you kiss his tip, looking up at him. 

“Your moans are doing an excellent job of making me ready to fuck you, darling,” you rumble before you hornily close your lips around the tip of his cock, giving it a nice, long suck before you start taking more of it. More, until he’s hitting the back of your throat, and you moan softly onto him, restraining yourself from distracting yourself by rubbing your throbbing sex. Your body is already screaming at you, but you want to make sure he’s nice and warmed up for the main event. 

Every movement of your tongue, every bob, every lick, every hollowing your cheeks makes Lucifer grunt, moan, and even whimper a little. Louder and filthier for you, as if he’s trying to beg for you to hurry up and fuck him without saying it. 

“Do you… like that, MC?” He smiles down at you, his cheeks still pink as he grips your hair harder at the root. “Do… you like my cock? How it feels…ugh… inside your mouth?” He just wants praise now. That’s really cute.

“Mmm hm,” you hum onto him, sucking him harder and making his breath catch. You moan onto him as you fondle his balls with one hand, making him tighten his hold on your hair. He can’t stop himself from bobbing your head a few times right before he splatters the inside of your mouth, his wings spreading wide and trembling. 

“MC!” he gasps out, panting as he watches you slowly let go of him, licking a streak off his length that escaped your mouth. When you swallow everything, he flops backwards into the bed, his eyes almost rolling back into his head before they refocus on the ceiling. For once, his thoughts are written on his face—that felt so fucking good; I needed this so bad… 

“I do love your cock, Lucifer,” you finally say, impatiently shedding your clothes, practically throwing them to the floor with annoyance. “It’s absolutely perfect for filling me the way I want it. And it feels amazing when it’s inside me.”

Lucifer ogles your body as you crawl on top of him, smiling before you kiss him again. He doesn’t seem to mind tasting himself as he hugs you close to him gratefully, almost crying as you cup his cheek. “You had a hard week, honey… You did such an excellent job like you always do, and I love you even when I don’t see you; you’re breathtaking from those horns down to your sweet personality…” You litter his neck with kisses. “Just let me take care of you tonight, okay?”

“Yes, please,” he groans before he goes right back to kissing you, his blissful tears spilling from the corners of his eyes, his hands rubbing your back. “Please praise me more… reward me. Make love to me; I need you.” 

“Finally asking for what you want,” you purr as you get ready to lower yourself onto him, kissing the corner of his lips. “Good boy.”

[candlewaxandp0lar0ids]

jealousy jealousy || Changbin x Reader

Summary: It's as you're working with Changbin on a school project — and he's being as infuriating as he always is — that he invites you to go see 3racha perform in a bar that night. You decide to take the opportunity, because you do find the group talented, and also, what could possibly go wrong?

Word count: 4.3k

Genres: college AU, rapper!Changbin

Warnings & Tags: jealousy, academic rivals to lovers, alcohol consumption, brief sleazy behavior from someone else, consensual kiss while under the influence, light angst, oc has insecurities

series masterlist

A/N: Similarly to the I.N. oneshot, please ignore the thing about music if you know better and it doesn't make sense, my years of studying music theory are far behind me :') Hope you'll enjoy the piece, would appreciate to know your thoughts on it if you do!

If you had had your say on this assignment or on your choice for a partner, you wouldn’t be sitting there, across from Seo Changbin, in his fucking studio, watching him nod his head as he’s working on the arrangement you’re supposed to turn in next week.

“The guidelines say we’re supposed to use an unusual time signature,” you say, partly to be annoying and partly because he’s literally using 4/4, which, like, come on. It’s like he’s trying to go against the rules.

“They’re used for a reason,” he replies after a good thirty seconds of silence, which could be because he was ignoring you or because he can’t multitask. “It’s more important to turn in something that’s good than something that follows the guidelines.”

“That’s not mutually exclusive.”

“You can’t let others tell you what to do,” he insists, still looking at his screen. “You have to make your own decisions based on what’s good for—”

“It sounds like you just can’t take a challenge,” you interrupt him and this time, he turns around to glare at you. For a second, he looks offended, which was the reaction you were going for and, you have to say, it brings you an evil satisfaction. Then a corner of his lips lift and he smirks.

You really don’t like how attractive you find that look on him.

“You think that’s going to work on me?”

You grit your teeth. Well, rationale and logic weren’t getting you anywhere so far, so this was at least worth a try.

“I’m not looking forward to you tanking my grade,” you reply with a shrug, attempting, and probably failing, to look nonchalant.

This time he scoffs before going back to the computer.

“It’s not going to tank our grade. The teacher values quality more than following the rules, and even if he didn’t, you shouldn’t change yourself to make someone happy.”

Valuable life advice, you’re sure. It just does not apply whatsoever when a grade is at stake. Unfortunately though, he is right about this teacher valuing ‘quality’, though you don’t like how subjective his view of it appears to be. You think there should be metrics when it comes to grading your students. Either way, so far Changbin’s been fucking breezing through this class because the teacher just adores everything he puts out. You think it’s a gross display of favoritism and you suspect that it has a lot to do with 3racha’s popularity, but everyone’s too busy making heart eyes at the golden boy to think about it.

And, look, you like 3racha. You think they’re talented. You don’t know where Chan finds the time to do music while being captain of the swimming team and all the other stuff he’s doing — seriously, when does he sleep —, you think Jisung’s a very talented singer, rapper, producer — basically a one man group already without needing to add the other two in— and Changbin’s… Yeah. Changbin’s good. There’s no way you could deny that. That’s not the problem.

The problem is that it doesn’t seem to have crossed his mind that there are some people in here who don’t have a record deal lined up for them as soon as they walk out of their graduation. Some people who are not going to have full creative control over their stuff until they’ve really established themselves, if that ever happens. Some people who also just simply enjoy figuring out a way of making something interesting, something good in ways they wouldn’t have thought of if they hadn’t been forced to deal with an obstacle of some sort barring them from picking the easiest solution.

The problem is that, as you reluctantly have to admit, Changbin isn’t picking the easiest solution. In fact, once you notice what he’s doing, you can’t help but lean forward on your seat, all your attention on him and his hands moving on the keyboard. Shit. It seems, infuriatingly, that he had a point.

“What’d you think?” he asks once he’s done, and you blink yourself back to reality after having watched him work his magic.

“It’s smart,” you admit. You’re not the type to lie just because you have an issue with him. “Using tertiary rhythms in 4/4 to give the impression of another time signature… Yeah. It’s good.”

You can practically see his ego getting bigger with every word you say. Dammit, you almost wish he were a hack.

“But,” you add, a little too be annoying and a little because you have an actual point to make, “I think you should start off with binary rhythms.”

Changbin visibly deflates, then frowns, and you realize belatedly that you might have been able to push back on the use of the time signature then and there. You think he’d have given in, if you still didn’t like the end result, but that hadn’t even occurred to you.

“Why?” he asks, folding his — impressive — arms over his chest. “That’d be boring.”

You shake your head, pushing yourself up next to him and taking the mouse out of his hands to start making the changes that are clear as day in your mind. The gesture seems to outrage him, but if you’re being honest that’s actually a plus in your book, so, tough to be him.

“You start out with something familiar,” you explain as you’re working, “to lull the listener into a false sense of security. Then you hit them with the unusual to have a bigger impact and to make them wonder how the piece got there. That way, they’ll think they’ll know exactly what you’re going for from the start and be more surprised when you go for something else.”

There are a few seconds of silence after that, before Changbin also leans forward, his body suddenly much closer to yours.

“You have to work on the transition some more if you’re going for that,” he says, and his breath tickles your cheek. “’cause it’s just gonna feel jarring if you don’t.”

“I was getting to that,” you say with a click of your tongue, elbowing him in the stomach in an attempt to keep him from messing with your work. Through the first, soft layer, you come in contact with strong abs, which doesn’t surprise you considering how much time he’s rumored to spend at the gym.

Not that you’re paying attention to these rumors or anything. It’s just— Know your enemy, or something.

He does manage to use his muscles pretty easily to get the mouse back, and after an undignified shriek when he wraps an arm around your body to lift you up and get you away, you admit defeat. If your cheeks are warm now, it’s just because of the effort.

It’s also the reason your heart beats faster, and it’s got nothing to do with the satisfied grin Changbin shoots back at you once he’s back in front of the computer.

“Hey,” he says as he’s working, “you know 3racha’s having a concert tonight?”

Of course you do.

“I heard about it.”

“You should come. I can get you in.”

You raise an eyebrow. You’ve never actually seen 3racha perform. Tickets to their stuff aren’t that easy to get on campus or around i, and you’re also busy working your ass off most of the time, whether it’s for classes or at your part-time job. But you have tonight off, and considering this assignment is going nicely…

You bite your lower lip as you consider it. You’re not really looking forward to the screaming crowd looking at Changbin like he’s a god, but you are interested in the actual show. You’ve heard so much about them, and the stars aligning for a ticket offer and not having to work…

Ah, fuck it.

“Okay.”

Changbin’s head whips back in your direction.

“What?”

You take a step back, shoulders instinctively coming up to your ears. Your defenses come back up in a matter of seconds.

“If you don’t want me there, you shouldn’t have—”

“No, you should come!” he protests, and then his voice gets softer. “I’d be super happy if you came, I just didn’t think you’d be interested.”

“Of course I am,” you say with a shrug.

Changbin turns around towards the computer, but not before you catch a bright smile on his lips. Not his signature smirk. A bright, genuine smile.

And this time, you have no excuse when your heart skips a beat.

It doesn’t come off as a shock to you that 3racha are really fucking good on stage. You didn’t have any trouble getting into the bar after giving your name, which Changbin had told you would be enough. It had taken a little more, uh, elbow work to get reasonably close to the stage, because the place was already pretty filled up. The people there are almost all from the college, but there are a few groups of mostly young men — some looking like they’re too young to have been let in — that stick out as well.

You make yourself comfortable as you wait, sending the occasional glare at people pushing you. Lots of girls there, you note, and you don’t think they’re all there for the music, which you find amusing. You certainly don’t judge. That’s something that the people from the labels would have noted, and it’s not like there’s a wrong way of enjoying a group.

The crowd goes wild around you when Jisung — or rather J-One, his stage name — jumps on stage, practically vibrating with energy. You don’t really catch what he’s saying, both because it’s too loud and because he’s speaking too fast. You are, however, acutely aware of the way he presents himself, of his cocky grin, of the way he sticks his tongue out and wipes at his lower lip with his thumb.

He’s followed on stage by Changbin, who, unlike him, barely looks like he’s acting. Yeah, his stage persona is raw confidence, supercharged with charisma, but he doesn’t bother doing much of anything — though you think he’s flexing his muscles a little more than usual. Except, of course, when he gives the audience that fucking smirk of his.

And suddenly, you’re very, very aware of how hot it is in the room.

Chan’s the last one to get on, and he does so with a roar of “Are you ready?”. Everyone goes insane, and you find yourself being pushed around by the people around you jumping up and down. Though you’re not quite giving in just yet, you do enjoy the enthusiasm. If half of what you’ve heard about them is true, they certainly deserve the hype. Seeing the wide, uncontainable smile on Chan’s face at the crowd reaction, as he can’t keep up with his stage persona for a few seconds, just makes your heart swell.

Then, after getting the crowd even more riled up, they get started with their set. You’re familiar with all the songs, of course. Music is ideally going to become your job and you want to keep yourself updated, but also, you do find them to be good. Even the stuff that’s not to your personal taste is always backed up by an actual creative idea, which is not something you’d say about a lot of pop songs that get blasted on the radio every day. It makes their music feel new, and yeah, sometimes it means it’s not that easily accessible and it’s going to turn some people off, but it sure makes you respect their artistic integrity.

They’re also giving themselves on stage, 100%. And, because there’s just no point in denying it now, Changbin looks ridiculously fucking hot doing it. It makes all sorts of things tingle in your stomach and lower when he growls in the mic. You haven't been able to look away for a second.

Outside of the general hotness — you’re human, what can you say — you can’t help but appreciate everything else, everything musical. How easily he rides the beat, how music seems to inhabit his body, how skillfully he’s crafted the verses and choruses and made them feel— You’re not sure how to phrase it. They’re not predictable, but they are obvious. It feels like there would be no other way of doing them, no better way of phrasing them, no arrangement that would be more efficient. It has to be that way.

And it’s as they’re reaching the peak of their last song that dread washes over you, seeping straight to your bones.

You find Changbin annoying. You think he’s cocky, overconfident, and that he doesn’t pay enough attention to others. You also don’t like the way he gets everything handed to him on a silver platter and that, unlike you, he doesn’t have to split his time between work and college. But if you’re being honest, that’s not nearly enough of a reason to dislike him. The guy wears his heart on his sleeve. He’s always happy to help out, maybe even lets people take advantage a little bit. And he’s so, so fucking talented. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find all of that attractive.

The problem, as you’re staring at him on stage, is that the question that is truly at the center of it all, the one you’ve refused to ask yourself all this time as you kept working your ass off and he kept doing better than you, just came up to the surface, and you can’t avoid it any longer.

What if you just don’t have it?

Look, you believe in hard work, but you find it hard to deny that some people just have something else. Call it talent, call it luck, whatever. Changbin’s got it.

You’re not sure you do.

You just might keep working and working and working and never get to the level he’s at. You might just not have the thing that makes him able to come up with hooks that stay inside your head for days on end.

What’s been your dream job for almost a decade now might remain forever out of reach.

As the crowd erupts in cheers around you, and 3racha stay on the stage, breathing heavily, sweat dripping down their forehead, the future you’ve always wished for doesn’t quite shatter completely in front of your eyes, but it takes a nasty crack that ripples onto its entire surface.

You turn around, away from the stage. You hadn’t planned on that, but fuck it.

You need a drink.

Even as you down two drinks a little too quick and gesture for a third, you know this is a bad idea. You’re running straight into a wall, you’re going to regret this so much tomorrow, and you’re doing it anyway. This isn’t like you. You make the good decision, the right decision, you do what’s smart, what you should do.

Except apparently, none of that is enough, and that thought gets you to ingest the third drink as well, the burning taste of alcohol a welcome distraction.

“You can really knock these back,” a voice comments next to you.

You glance at the guy who’s already way too close in your personal space for a stranger. Normally, you would roll your eyes and you’d never even consider entertaining it. Who even hits on someone after they’ve seen them try their best to get intoxicated in as short an amount of time as possible?

Tonight though, his maths has paid off, because you welcome the distraction.

If you’re going to be making bad decisions, why stop at one, right?

You spin yourself towards him, rest your elbow on the counter and put your head on your hand in a pretty unnatural pose. You’re not quite coordinated — not usually, and certainly not with that amount of alcohol in your blood — but it doesn’t appear to throw him off.

“Sure can,” you say — it might come off slurred, you can’t tell, “but the question is, can you?”

He raises an eyebrow, but he looks amused. Honestly, he’s giving sleazy vibes, a little too happy to be running into someone trying to get wasted, you just— you just don’t give a fuck right now. You feel like you’ve watched the life slip forever out of your reach, and you just want to forget about it, forget about how you may never get a job and never live from what you want to do most in the world, forget about fucking Seo Changbin and how ridiculously talented he is when you’re— Yeah, you’re ordering another drink.

The guy offers to pay for you, and you’re not going to say no. He makes a dumb comment about it which you think is supposed to be a joke and you laugh way too hard, throwing your head back in a tried and tested move.

As you make painful small talk with him while waiting for your drink, you’re struck by how mediocre he seems to be. When you’re around Changbin, as annoying as he can be, the conversation’s just… brilliant. He’s interesting, he’s actually smart, he has stuff to say, and talking to him makes you feel, well, annoyed, sure, but it’s also challenging. He never bores you.

It’s been less than a minute, and you already wish that guy would shut up.

He doesn’t. He seems intent on smothering you with facts about his life that he probably believes to be impressive — his money, his job, his connections —, like you don’t know why he’s doing it. It’s almost insulting that he seems to believe that he’s seducing you with all of that fairly mundane stuff, when really, the attention you’re giving him has nothing to do with, well, him.

He’s moved on to putting his arm around your shoulders in the least subtle way known to man when you hear your name and you turn back around.

There’s Changbin, eyeing you and the guy, looking half pissed, half concerned.

“Oh, hey,” you say. “You were really good.”

His eyebrows knit, but then a smile that he can’t seem to hold back lifts a corner of his lips. It’s not arrogant for once, almost bashful actually.

“You thought so?”

So good that it gave you an existential crisis, so, yeah, you did.

“Yeah, you guys weren’t bad,” the dude behind you chimes in, and since you’ve got your back turned to him, you openly roll your eyes, which Changbin can’t miss. You doubt the guy knows shit about the time and efforts that had to go into that set, or into the writing of the song before even getting onto the stage, for that matter. “A bit derivative,” he adds, like an asshole, “but you might go on to do great stuff.”

There’s nothing bashful about Changbin’s smile now. He doesn’t look hurt or anything, but he seems to be thinking that the guy’s a real fucking moron.

“Thanks,” he says, sarcasm dripping in his voice which the dude doesn’t catch. Then his eyes fall on the glasses in front of you, and back to the hand on your shoulder. “Is that all yours?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m questioning my existence,” you reply with a shrug. “So that seemed like a good idea.”

Changbin looks confused for a second, but not completely deterred by your lack of coherence.

“’kay, then I think I should take you home.”

That’s objectively a good idea, and the more time you’re spending looking at him and talking to him, the less you want to keep talking to the other dude, actually.

“Hey,” the guy in question says from behind you, “I got there first. Find someone else, dude.”

Changbin’s eyes harden instantly and he takes a threatening step forward. He’s shorter than the man, but significantly larger. You just so happen to not be drunk enough to watch them fight. You blame your dad’s genes for making you somewhat good at handling your alcohol, because you wish you were hammered enough not to care right now. You push yourself on your feet, a bit unsteady, and put your hand on Changbin’s arm — totally to stop him and not at all to stop yourself from face planting. His muscles, you discover with some interest, are not just impressive but also extremely hard, perhaps because he’s prepared to fight.

“It’s good,” you say, “thanks for the drinks but he’s right, I need to get home.”

The man’s face contorts with anger.

“You can pay for your own drinks, you fucking—”

One of Changbin’s arms wrap around your waist, and then he takes a step forward, easily getting you out of the way while keeping you against him, to grab the man by the collar.

“Want to finish that sentence, asshole?”

If you were sober, you’d think something judgmental about men and aggressiveness. Right now, you mostly, uh, think it’s very very hot of him. Being pressed into his hard body makes your heart rate spike up, and in that state, it’s so hard to deny how attracted you are to him.

The guy backs down quickly, sputtering an apology, and then Changbin’s dragging you away, keeping his arm around you to ensure you stay on your feet.

“You okay?” he asks. His eyes scan your body, focusing back on your face when he finds nothing.

Alcohol has a tendency of making you even snappier than you usually are. Right now, though, hearing the genuine worry in his voice, you feel that part of you melting away.

“I’m good, Changbin. I think I just— I just need to get home.”

And though he’d be the last person you’d take help from if you were sober, he seems like the perfect pick at the moment.

You make it to the campus without too much trouble. It’s not like your legs don’t carry you anymore, just that you don’t walk quite straight, but Changbin doesn’t let go of you for one second of that walk, monitoring you the whole time, and then he insists on getting you back to your room as well. At least you live alone, because that is not something you’d like to have to explain.

“Did something happen?” Changbin asks, finally, as you’re making it up the steps, like he just can’t keep it in anymore. Your mind, which had been peacefully quiet this whole time, filled with his warmth and his presence, is flooded with noise again. It takes you a few long, painful seconds before you come up with something to say.

“Do you think I’m any good at this?” you ask just as you’re reaching your floor.

He shoots you a weird look.

“Good at what?”

Right, he wasn’t privy to everything that was going on in your mind.

“You know,” you say with a vague gesture. “Music. Producing. What we do.”

“Of course you’re good at it,” he scoffs like it’s the most obvious thing ever. “You’re super creative. You can follow all the stupid rules the teachers give us and still turn something good in. You think I’d let you work on my stuff in my studio if I didn’t think you were good?”

It’s his tone that gets to you, you think. Changbin’s honest to a fault, from what you’ve seen, but he says this so matter-of-factly, so casually, that it’s hard to question, even for just a second, that he doesn’t believe what he’s saying. You know it will take a moment to sink in, that Changbin has that kind of confidence in you when even you don’t, but, even if the thoughts will definitely come back later, it’s like he dispelled them all in just a few sentences.

It’s as you’re coming to a stop in front of your door that he almost jumps with realization.

“Wait a second. Did that fucker say—”

And then you kiss him. It’s not that hard, from the position you were in, to pivot into wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your lips against his, which you find to be soft and plump. He tenses for a second before his hand tightens on your waist and he kisses you back hungrily. If he can taste the alcohol on your lips, it doesn’t seem to bother him. His hand holds you close to him with almost bruising strength, but it remains chastely on your waist, his only movements coming from his lips and tongue.

His teeth graze against your lower lip, pulling on it, and it sends shivers through your whole body, but this is when you pull away from him. Despite his previous stillness, his head moves forward, chasing your lips for just a few seconds longer.

When you open your eyes, you find him panting, cheeks and ears a pronounced shade of red. It’s— extremely cute, if you’re being honest.

“Thank you for taking me home,” you say.

“Y—Yeah,” he says, glancing away when his voice cracks. “Yeah,” he repeats, “any time.”

“I’m gonna go to bed now,” you say, though you still haven’t taken your arms from around him.

“That’s good,” he says with a decisive nod. “’cause, you know, you’re drunk, and I wouldn’t wanna— You should go to bed.”

It makes you giggle, but you still decide give yourself a second more, during which you put your head on your shoulder, and Changbin just lets you, his hand rubbing circles on your back. When you still don’t move, he clears his throat.

“D’you want me to carry you?”

“Seriously?”

His response to that is to lift you up princess-style, one arm under your knees and the other under your back. He lets out a grunt as he lifts you, but then stabilizes himself and manages to get you through the door.

You know that you’ll have some things to seriously think about when you wake up with a throbbing headache, but in that moment, you just laugh and let him carry you to your bed, because having his arms around make you feel safe.

He makes you feel like you’re going to be okay.

Taglist: @lethallyprotected @jisuperboard

[blackcherryvelvet0909]

Prized Shrimp (Floyd x GN!Reader)

Note: Happy (early) Birthday to @floydleeches . I love you with all my heart <3 <3 <3 Thank you for making my life better than it's ever been before.

You honestly didn’t know what to expect. Volleyball wasn’t the most cutthroat sport - even so, you worried about the teams that made up the game. There were two in total, each student separated into one or the other via a sort of raffle. You supposed it was better to draw sticks than have everyone fight over who was on what team. Maybe Coach Vargas did have a good head on his shoulders…was that bad to say? It didn’t matter either way. It’s not like anyone could read your thoughts - well, you don’t think.

You brushed aside the troubling thought in favor of watching the game. As of now, the score was set at a tie. It was anyone’s game - it was so close a small audience had gathered to watch. Aside from a brief timeout due to a wayward strike thanks to Kalim - he almost hit a professor! - everything seemed to be going well. From behind you, you could hear several of your fellow classmates exchanging bets. You glanced to the side to see that even Lilia was getting in on the madol pool. Silver was too far into dreamland to stop his father, and Malleus was too preoccupied by his ice cream. 

“Would you like to place a bet, [y/n]?” Jade startled you a bit, having appeared beside you from nowhere. In his hand he held a silver platter, stacked high with madol. Though his smile was courteous, you spied a glimmer of mischief in his eye. 

“No thanks, I’m good,” you said with a shake of your head. “I’m just here to watch.” 

“Very well.” You were surprised Jade relented so quickly; perhaps he knew your answer from the very beginning, but a certain octopus insisted he offer. As he stood, Jade turned his attention to the game. “Out of curiosity, who do you think will win?”

“Mmm…I don’t know,” you admitted. You watched as Ace, who was stuck on Rook’s team, knocked the ball over the net. “It’s a pretty close game. I never knew Rook could lead a team so well.” 

“Like me, he is a vice housewarden,” Jade commented. “It is a staple for those in such a position, and higher, to have leadership skills. A level head is also required,” he chuckled as he glanced over to the left with a smirk, “though I’m afraid not everyone is perfect.” 

You followed the man’s gaze over to someone you didn’t expect to see: Idia. He sat next to Ortho on a large blanket laid out across the sand, the hood of his jacket pulled tightly over his head. His little brother’s eyes sparkled as he cheered for his fellow students - knowing him, he held no team preference. You supposed Jade referred to Idia, not Ortho, when he made that statement. I mean, Idia’s dorm hadn’t spiraled into chaos yet, so he must be doing a good job. …But how much of that was Ortho’s doing? You felt kinda bad for how little faith you held in Idia’s capabilities in that brief moment. 

“How many bets have we accumulated?” You looked over your shoulder to watch Azul approach the two of you. He wore a straw sunhat - it looked to be of high quality. So the head had gotten to him. Floyd wasn’t pulling your leg when he joked about it earlier. 

“Thirty,” Jade replied to his housewarden. “I just stopped to have a brief chat with our favorite prefect before I went to fetch more.” Should you be worried about being their favorite? Possibly. 

You witnessed the almost evil smirk that spread across Azul’s face. “Very good. Thank you, Jade.” Jade gave a small nod before he wandered off to collect more madol. He barely made it a few steps before he was stopped by a few first years, each adding some amount of madol to the silver platter. Well, you hoped it was worth it. Your attention was dragged back by Azul as he sighed. 

“Hot, isn’t it?” 

“Mhm,” you mumbled as you took a big sip from your water bottle. “I heard it’s supposed to be the hottest day of the week. I’m happy I bought that extra protective sunscreen the other day - I don’t want to end up like a lobster.” 

“I agree.” The housewarden suppressed a laugh as he added, “Like Riddle the weekend before.” 

You winced at the memory. You first heard it from Ace and Deuce, but their words did Riddle’s state no justice. The poor guy…you were glad he recovered the other day. You couldn’t imagine how painful that was. “Leave him alone,” you lightly scolded. “You’d be worse off if you were sunburned. Floyd told me about the time when you got sunburned when you were-” 

“And I’ll demand you stop there,” Azul hissed. He now glared daggers into Floyd, who paid him no mind as Leona served the ball and slapped it over to his side of the sand. “May I remind you we’re in public?” 

“Yeah, I know,” you retorted. “So just as Riddle wouldn’t want you laughing about him getting burned, you wouldn’t want me or Floyd telling everyone about that little incident from your childhood.” 

To blackmail the blackmailer was a tricky game - one you had mastered through trial and error. Thankfully you garnered a few pointers from a certain eel in the past to make the process easier. Azul nearly pouted as he crossed his arms and avoided your gaze. “Fine.” 

Before you could say another word, whether mock or further reprimand, you heard Rook yell out, “Floyd!” It was so odd to hear Rook refer to the second year by his name; it certainly caught not just yours, but everyone else’s attention. You focused back on the game just in time to watch the volleyball hurtle straight for Floyd. The eel grinned as he jumped up and spiked the ball, saving his team from a sure loss if the volleyball had hit the ground. The hit was so powerful it shot back over the neck with lightning speed. Though Leona, Deuce, Jack, and their other teammates tried to hit it back, it was no use. You watched in awe as the ball slammed into the sand over the drawn line of Leona’s side of the court. 

Vargas blew his whistle the moment the ball made contact. “That’s the game!” he announced. 

Before Vargas could even declare the obvious winner, Rook, Ace, Floyd, and their comrades erupted in victorious hollars. Though each teammate congratulated the other, it was clear who was the star of the celebration. Floyd received pats on the back, punches to the bicep and shoulder, and even a few side hugs. When Ace came up to give him a high-five, Floyd instead hoisted him up in his arms and spun him around like a ragdoll. Instant regret on the redhead’s part. You watched as he almost melted down to the sand once Floyd released him, lying face up on the ground as he tried to get his bearings again. No harm in going to help the poor guy out. 

“You okay,” you asked through a laugh as you stared down at Ace. 

“‘M fine,” he practically garbled. He blinked a few times - when he could see straight, he noticed the hand you offered out to him. He took it and you helped him up. He shook his head as he got back on his feet, mumbling, “Seven, I hate when he does that.” 

“He does that a lot?”

“Whenever we win a game in basketball, yeah.” Ace’s gaze flicked over to the left; as you followed it, you saw Deuce headed in your direction. That shit-eating grin that was so, well, Ace Trappola was back as he teased, “How’s it feel to be on the losing team?”

“Not that bad,” Deuce shrugged with a smile. Ace seemed a little disappointed by the answer. Aww, poor thing couldn’t rub it in Deuce’s face. What a shame. “You guys played really well!” 

Rook heard Deuce’s praise, he couldn’t help but turn in his direction and give a little bow. “Merci, Monsieur Spade! Your team played most beautifully as well. The way you dove to bounce back the ball at the beginning, how Roi des Lions lead your flock with such grace - and how mighty Fler-a-bras’s form throughout! Ah!” Rook swooned, one hand on his heart and the back of the other pressed to his sweaty forehead. “Ravissant!~ 

Ace leaned over to you to whisper, “I’m gonna vomit if he keeps going.” 

“Soooo, what’s our prize?” Your mind spun with how much your focus was being tossed to and fro. It was dizzying how many people were talking to you and around you all at once. Even so, you managed to direct your attention to Floyd, whose question was directed to Vargas. “We gotta get a prize, right?” A few of his other teammates perked up their ears - human, beastman, merman, and fae alike - at the mention of a reward for their hard work. They, including Ace, made a little huddle around Floyd, all eyes now on Vargas. 

“Of course!” the coach affirmed. “You all get a prize for your hard work.” Now even the losing team was paying attention. Leona stopped his stride away from the net (not everyone could be a good loser) to listen; Jack stalled in wiping the sweat from his nape. Vargas wasn’t really one to give out consolation prizes to the losers, so this was a rare treat indeed! “The prize is…” Vargas paused for effect - every head, from audience to teams, craned forward in anticipation. 

“The valuable bond you established with your teammates!” 

Fucking really?! 

That was the thought you shared with almost everyone in attendance. Even the staff who watched on the sidelines (minus Crowley - one could only guess where he was) gave Vargas a collective bombastic side eye. The coach seemed to not fathom why everyone was so disappointed. 

“That’s some bullshit, dude,” one student complained from within the large group of - now former - volleyball players. 

“Language!” At least half of those students, some even from the audience, collectively shrunk back at the sound of Trein’s commanding voice. 

“This was a team exercise,” Vargas said in his defense, hands on his hips. “I will be sure to give you all extra credit for your efforts once we return to campus.” 

“Laaaame,” Floyd groaned. “I want something better! You don’t have food or some cool sh-stuff or something?” Nice save, you thought. 

“If you mean give you junk food or some other thing to rot your muscles, that’s a no, Mr. Leech.” You were sure the term was ‘rot your brain’, but okay. Sure. 

Though Floyd seemed to relent, although reluctantly, other students continued to argue. Ace was among that throng; Rook and Jack seemed okay with the outcome, while Sebek busied himself with seeing if Lilia and Malleus needed anything. Leona was long gone to some other part of the beach, Deuce himself now collapsed on his own towel. You turned to see Jade passing out madol to those who won their bet, while Azul smiled gleefully as he explained again and again the terms of the bet to ruffled losers. Of course, you supposed Azul had betted on Floyd and was very happy to reap the spoils. If it were the other way around, he’d have turned the rules in his favor. You were honestly surprised Divus and Trein had nothing to say about the gambling. 

All this distraction around you caused you to miss the grin that creeped up Floyd’s lips. Sharp teeth glinted in the sun as his heterochromic eyes focused on one thing - one person. He glanced back at Vargas and asked, “Coach, if I find a prize I want, can I get it?” 

Ignoring the several students that still tried to plead their case, Vargas shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose so.” He jutted his finger in Floyd’s direction. “But if I catch you eating junk, you’re doing laps around the campus for a week!” 

“No problem~” Floyd crooned, no longer looking at the P.E teacher. He’d set his sights back on his chosen prize - his prey. “I’ve got juuuuust the thing I want.”

You were about to go and check on Deuce, who was currently pouring water over his head, when you were suddenly hoisted into the air. A shrill yelp ripped from your throat as your stomach flopped at the quick rise of your body. Two large hands held you up, gripped under your arms as you were held up like a dog - or a little beast you messed with sometimes. “My prize is Shrimpy!~” Floyd declared from behind you with glee. He paid no mind to the way you flailed once you realized just who had you in their grasp. “They’re not junk - not for me, anyway.” 

“Floyd, put me down!” you begged. 

“Nnnnope!” Floyd giggled as he turned you around to face him. “Look at you wigglin’ around. So cute! We’re gonna have lots of fun, Shrimpy~” Floyd peeked over your shoulder to make eye contact with Vargas. “Right, coach?” 

You strained your neck to look back at Vargas. Your eyes silently pleaded with him to tell Floyd to put you down. That was not what you got. “Mhn,” he shrugged again, “I’ll allow it.” 

No mercy for you, it seemed. Next thing you knew, you were tossed over Floyd’s shoulder, his arm wrapped around your waist as he began to carry you away. You looked about to try and find someone to help you. Rook wouldn’t - he’d be more likely to join in on the fun than anything. Ace was too preoccupied with trying to convince Vargas, more likely digging himself into his own set of laps. Deuce seemed to now be fast asleep, and Jack was nowhere to be seen. Jade and Azul would certainly be of no help, and the other teachers were too focused on keeping the rowdy losers - betters and players alike - under control. 

As you and Floyd began to pass a dark green towel, shielded by a humongous umbrella, you thought of your last hope of escape. Malleus! There was no other man willing to protect you. Your gaze soon beheld the tall fae, so already sat on his knees on the towel, looking ready to bolt up and take off after you. Your eyes met, chartreuse to [eye color], and you thanked the Seven that there was clear determination within those slitted orbs. But then you spied Lilia grab Malleus by the wrist, hold gentle yet firm. The older fae whispered something into the prince’s pointed ear - to your horror, he sat back on the towel. 

“Malleus??” you whisper-yelled. The only answer you received was the most pitiful apologetic look that ever graced his elegant features. Lilia, on the other hand, smiled gaily and wiggled his fingers in a goodbye. His expression was almost mischievous, in a way - like he knew something you didn’t. Silver just roused from sleep from behind him, and Sebek paid you no mind as he lectured the young man for his sleepiness. You realized it then: There was no help coming for you. You weren’t necessarily scared…nervous was a term, however. 

“What should we do first, huh, Shrimpy?” Floyd asked. Was he actually giving you options? “We could go eat, make sandcastles, do some diving, wrestle around,” he paused, and you could practically hear the smirk upon his face, “ooooorr we could go swimming~” 

“I-I’m actually kinda hungry.” As if to help your cause, your stomach growled just as the word ‘hungry’ left your lips. 

“Awww, is your tummy rumblin’?~” Floyd cooed. “Okay, we’ll go get something to eat!” Floyd abruptly turned in the direction of a food and drink stand at the edge of the beach. You were flung almost violently, becoming a little dizzy as you settled against his upper back again. “After that, we’ll go swimming!” 

“Sandcastles sounded nice though…” You were honestly just trying to stall the inevitable. 

“Yeah, but swimming’s more fun! We can even play hide and seek.” You glimpsed the razor teeth that made up Floyd cheerful, yet menacing smile. “I’ll be the seeker~” 

Of course he would be. Well, at least you’d get a last meal out of it. Better make it a good one. Hopefully it won’t be so bad…to have that time with your weird, longtime crush was nice.

[thirsty-lakedream]

After a long day of practice, the football team retired back to the lockers. The arid scent of sweat coming from the burly strong men filled the air. As the athletes freshened up and went along with their day, only two were left, cooling off; shooting like shit like normal. The first was the teams head linebacker Jensen and the second, his best bro and star quarterback of the team, Ryan.

The two jocks first met when they by chance got paired up as roommates in the freshman dorms. They’re synergy only heightened their football prowess. Thanks to that, they became the dynamic duo for the front liners. They’ve been inseparable since… well until Ryan broke the news.

A knock echoed from the locker room entrance. Jensen walked over and opened the door slightly ajar to see a lanky boyish latino standing there. “Oh uh, hey Mateo,” It was Ryan’s boyfriend. “What’s up?”

Looking evidently intimidated by the broad athlete, he he timidly spoke. “H-hey, I’m looking for Ryan. He asked me to meet him after practice.”

“Oh, yeah. Come on in.” Jensen pulled the door open to let him in. “Hey Ry, your- um, your… Mateo is here.” Though he wants to be supportive, Jensen still had his reservations. When Ryan came out to him he was shocked. All this time he never sensed the impression that his best bro was gay. He would always bring the hottest babes to their room, but was that all just a cover to his real wants?

When he laid on eye on his boyfriend, something clicked in Ryan’s eyes and he put on the warmest grin. “Teo, there you are babe!” The smaller guy walked over to where the football player was, sitting in his personal football cubby and climbed into his lap, teasing for a kiss. Ryan happily obliged pulling Mateo close, locking into a kiss.

Jensen tried to shy his eyes away. He was still adjusting to this new development, but whenever it was him and the two of them, the lovers couldn’t take their eyes and lips away from each other. It was especially awkward since the two got so lost into each other they were practically dry humping during their last hang in the frat house. It could also be cause of some slight jealousy. He wasn’t gay or anything, but he did miss spending quality bro-time. Maybe I should just give them some space, Jensen thought. “I’m gonna head out. I’ll just see you man.”

Ryan pulled away, to the dismay of Mateo. “Ok man I’ll catch you later!” Jensen walked out of the locker room.

He turned back to happily continue the make out section, but at the sound of the door shutting, Mateo climbed off of the man and rolled his eyes. “Finally I thought he’d actually stick around and we’d have to pull that grinding act again.”

“Oh come on, don’t you think that the intense PDA is making the guys too uncomfortable? We don’t want to ruin the real Ryan’s image.”

Mateo cruelly glared at the athlete. In a new mocking tone, he asked. “I’m sorry, are you actually questioning my plans?”

In response Ryan’s cool and confident smile demeanor crumpled. “N-no… sorry Mateo.”

“What did you call me?”

“Sorry, Sir”

Mateo coldly smiled. “That’s better. Do not forget who holds the power in this ‘relationship.’ Now back to business, what is your status on integrating into Ryan’s life.

“Well, everything appears to be fine. No one has suspected anything amiss.”

“Is that so?”

“As far as I’m aware, sir. I did as you told and continued to do the weekly calls with his mom and sister, and I’ve kept up both his grades and exercise regimen to a tee.”

Mateo took a moment to reply, but then simply asked. “What is Ryan’s moms name.” ‘Ryan’ hesitated to answer, which caused his partner to replayed. “His mother’s name, what is it?”

“Uhh I know this, it’s Ana, right?”

Mateo rolled his eyes, reaching out and pulling Ryan by the ear. “You idiot! It’s Amanda! What if that came up in conversation? You would have tipped anyone off immediately!”

“I’m sorry I’m sorry! I promise I will read the character notes you gave me again! I promise I will get it right next time!”

As ‘Ryan pleased, Mateo took note of something else. As he held onto Ryan, it looked as if his skin was stretching unnaturally, almost as it was being pulled away from his head. Pulling tighter, Mateo stretched Ryan’s face harder. From the offices of his eyes and mouth, paler skin much different then Ryan’s sun-touched complexion could be seen. “And let me guess, you haven’t been applying the glue like I instructed you.”

Ryan sounded so small and timid, “I-I’m sorry I forgot to do it the last couple days…”

Mateo let go of his boyfriend and walked over to his duffle. Digging through the sweaty gear he found what he was looking for, a long metallic tube of cream. Without hesitation, he squeezed a hardy dollop of goop into his hand and rubbed it vigorously onto the jocks face. Performing another experimental pull, Ryan’s face held rigid.

“You are really fucking this up. What would you have done if something happened during practice, or in the shower. How do you think those dumb jocks would react if their star players face distorted or came off, revealing some loser posing to be him, wearing his skin like some kind of costume?”

“I-I… I don’t know.”

“Now, is there anything else you want to confess to me before I find out later.”

Ryan bit his lip, but eventually admitted, “There was one little thing. I may have been talking to Jensen and gotten something wrong. Instead of remembering he has a sister, I asked about his brother… But I got him to believe it was a bad joke! I promise he doesn’t suspect a thing!”

Mateo simply rubbed his temple, trying to massage away the pounding headache “You’re on thin ice. Thin fucking ice.”

Ryan hesitated, before standing up. Using his large stature to try and intimidate Mateo, he barked aggressively. “I made some mistakes but I’m getting better, why don’t you get off my back.”

Mateo let out a sigh, turning away from the groveling man. “Do you know why I chose you for this job, Brian?”

At hearing his real name, the guy inside Ryan shuddered. “Umm, because you knew I would do anything for you.”

The Latino man scoffed, “The reason I chose you to put on Ryan and take over his life was because I knew as an actor, you’d be able to slip into the role seamlessly. Besides you even had a fairly convincing impression of the real Ryan. Clearly I was mistaken as your performance has been lackluster at best. What would stop me from taking you out of that suit and replacing you with someone else better suited for the job. I could even get them a voice changer and no one would notice a difference.” He pulled a small remote from his pocket. “One click of this and you will be ejected from Ryan’s suit, forced to go back to your sad, pathetic life as Brian. Just some gay loser no one wants or would ever want?”

Terrified by Mateo’s threat, Ryan fell to his knees, pleading to Mateo. “No please, anything but that! I’m so sorry please don’t take this away from me I promise i will do better, much better!” His voice sounding a bit off, now squeakier than his normal bravado.

Mateo hesitated, teasing his finger on the remotes button, before finally putting it back into his pocket. “Fine. I will give you one last chance. But listen to me… no more screw ups, no more forgetting to maintain the suit, got it? Let this be the last time we have to discuss it. After this, you are Ryan Griffin- my cocky quarterback boyfriend, but in private you are my loyal dumb servant.”

��Y-yes sir.”

“Repeat it,” Mateo demanded.

“I- I am Ryan Griffin, I am your cocky quarterback boyfriend, but in private I shall loyally serve you.”

A sinister smile crept on Mateo’s face. “Atta boy.” He placed his hand, caressing his dumb, stubbly cheek. “Now get changed cause your taking me out to dinner tonight.”

[soaplickerrr]

Accidentally Coincidental

CHAPTER 7 (click pictures for better quality)

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a/n: updates will be slow, i'm working on a pretty long fic on my side blog.

pairing: Idol!Kim Seungmin x Fem! CollegeStudent!Reader

genre: contemporary romance

SMAU

synopsis: Y/N, a regular college student accidentally texts Seungmin, a star in the K-pop group Stray Kids while trying to text her Ex, Soonyoung to come pick up his things, leading to an unexpected connection that blossoms into a heartfelt romance.

ignore time stamps, dates (other than the ones mentioned during texting) and typos

THERES A WRITTEN PART, DO NOT JS SCROLL THEOUGH THE PICS!!

The towering glass facade of JYP Entertainment stands in front of you, gleaming under the afternoon sun. The building is sleek and modern, almost like a beacon calling you forward with its promise of dreams fulfilled and careers made. For a moment, you pause outside, taking a deep breath to steady the nervous energy buzzing in your veins. Today is a big day, your chance to prove yourself at one of the biggest entertainment companies. The opportunity to showcase your editing skills is finally here, and you’re determined to nail it.

You step through the revolving doors and into the lobby, where everything is polished to a shine, from the pristine marble floors to the sleek, minimalist decor that screams sophistication and class. The soft hum of conversation, the rapid tapping of heels, and the occasional chime of an elevator create a symphony of activity around you. You can feel the eyes of staff and visitors glancing at you as you make your way to the receptionist’s desk, your pulse quickening with each step. You straighten your back and put on a polite smile, trying to project a confidence that you don’t quite feel.

The receptionist looks up with a professional but somewhat warm smile. “Hello, how can I help you?”

You clear your throat, trying to keep your voice steady. “Hi, I have an appointment today. My name is L/N Y/N.”

The receptionist nods, typing something into her computer with swift, practiced keystrokes. Her eyes flick up to meet yours again, studying you briefly. “Alright, just a moment. Someone will be with you shortly.”

You manage a tight smile and nod, shifting your weight from one foot to the other as you wait. You try not to fidget, but your hands feel awkward and out of place, unsure where they should rest. Just as you’re contemplating what to do with them, two men in suits approach from a side door. They move with a certain authority, their expressions serious, no, stern, but not in a way that feels threatening. Just…official.

“Excuse me, could you tell us your name again?” one of them asks, his tone flat and his gaze steady.

“Uh, Y/N,” you reply, a bit taken aback by the second request but deciding it’s best not to ask why.

The men exchange a quick, wordless look. Then, one of them speaks again. “We’ll need to take your phone. Company policy. No recording, photos, or unauthorized communications inside.”

Your eyes widen a little at the unexpected request, and you blink, momentarily caught off guard. “Oh, sure. Right.” You fumble with your bag, pulling out your phone. Handing it over feels strange, like you’re parting with a lifeline. You watch as they slip it into a small, padded pouch and secure it with a seal, locking it away. You know it’s standard security protocol in a place like this, but the absence of your phone suddenly makes you feel vulnerable, almost exposed, like you’ve had a piece of armor taken away.

“Follow us, please,” the other man says, turning sharply on his heel. You nod, swallowing down the nerves bubbling up inside, and fall in step behind them. The click of your shoes against the immaculate floor seems louder than usual in the otherwise hushed hallway. You try to keep your breathing even as they lead you through a series of corridors that seem to grow more pristine and imposing with each turn. Bright overhead lights reflect off polished surfaces, and you catch glimpses of framed awards, photographs of famous artists, and plaques of achievement lining the walls.

Finally, they lead you to a set of heavy double doors, which they push open to reveal a spacious conference room. Inside, the air is cooler, almost chilled, and there’s a tension you can’t quite place. Several people are already seated around a large, glossy table, including the CEO of JYP Entertainment himself, as well as a group of individuals who appear to be part of the editing team, seasoned professionals by the looks of them. A sense of awe mixed with anxiety twists in your stomach.

“Welcome, Y/N,” the CEO says with a smile that is both warm and assessing, his gaze sharp. The tension in your shoulders loosens a little. “We’re glad you could join us today. We’ve heard some promising things about you. Today, we’ll be putting you through a series of tests to evaluate your editing skills and see if you’d be a good fit for our team.”

You nod, your mouth a bit dry but you manage to offer a polite smile in return. “Thank you for this opportunity. I’m excited to get started.”

They don’t waste any time. One of the team members, a woman with a sharp bob and an even sharper expression, gestures for you to follow her to another room. As you walk, you take in the atmosphere: a blend of high-stakes professionalism and intense creative energy. She leads you into a larger room, even more imposing than the last, lined wall-to-wall with high-end computers. These aren’t your average editing setups; they’re top-of-the-line, the kind of equipment you’ve only seen in magazines or YouTube reviews, machines that look like they could handle any project you could throw at them and then some. Your fingers itch with anticipation.

You’re directed to one of the stations and take a seat, feeling the weight of their expectations settle over you. “Alright, let’s get started,” the woman says. “We have an unedited scene from a music video here. Take a look, and tell us how you’d approach it. What kind of cuts, pacing, effects, anything you think would make the scene really stand out.”

You lean forward, watching as the raw footage plays out on the screen. It’s a good scene, but there’s a lot of room for improvement. Your mind starts to race with ideas, visualizing how you could tighten the cuts, adjust the pacing, and use color grading to make certain moments pop. After a moment of silence, you start speaking, sharing your thoughts. You can see the team members watching you closely, a few nodding slightly, others jotting down notes. When you finish, you notice a few raised eyebrows, they weren’t expecting that.

“Interesting approach,” one of them says, scribbling more notes. “Not the usual take, but it’s got potential.”

Then, they take you over to another project, they reveal what the unedited footage actually is. Your breath catches in your throat. It’s “JJAM” by Stray Kids, you recognize the song. You’re momentarily stunned, feeling a rush of excitement and disbelief all at once. You’re a huge fan of the group, and now you have the chance to put your spin on something this important. It feels surreal. But there’s no time to get lost in the moment. You’re given two scenes to edit, the first chorus, and the scene right after it. You listen to the hype music as you edit, the next scene’s calmer sound a blessing, both Seungmin and I.N’s voices loosening your shoulders.

You refocus, your heart pounding.

Your hands move with a blend of instinct and precision as you begin editing. You adjust the cuts to match the intensity of the beats, sync transitions perfectly with the energy of the music, and add visual effects that enhance the atmosphere without overshadowing the artists. Time starts to blur as you fall into the familiar rhythm of editing. You’re in the zone, entirely focused on the work in front of you.

When you finally lean back and look at the clock, three hours of cutting, moving and placing have passed in what felt like a blink. You hadn’t realized how deeply you were holding your breath until you exhale and call the team over.

“I’m done,” you say, trying to keep the fatigue out of your voice but unable to hide the pride in your work.

They gather around, their eyes on the screen as they review what you’ve done. The room is filled with murmurs, some nodding, some pointing at specific cuts or transitions. You can’t hear everything they’re saying, but you pick up a few key words: “clean,” “sharp,” “unexpected.” You try not to overthink it as they finish their discussion.

“Very good, Y/N,” the woman with the sharp bob finally says, nodding in approval. “Now, let’s test your attention to detail. There’s a tiny flaw in this already-edited video. It’s subtle, but we want to see if you can spot it.”

You nod, feeling a fresh wave of determination. You lean in closer to the screen, eyes scanning carefully over the footage. A few seconds pass before you see it, a tiny synchronization issue where the beat of the music and the cut don’t quite match up perfectly.

“There,” you point out confidently. “The beat and the cut are slightly off-sync. It’s almost imperceptible, but it’s there.”

There’s a pause, and then a few murmurs of approval ripple through the team. You catch a few nodding in agreement, clearly impressed, though they keep their expressions controlled. Over the next several hours, they put you through a series of additional tests, each one more challenging than the last. Some require speed, others a sharp eye for continuity, and a few push your creativity to the limit. You’re exhausted, but adrenaline and sheer willpower keep you going.

By the time you finish the last task, you’re nearly slumped over the desk, eyes tired but heart pounding with a mix of hope and anxiety. You can barely keep from fidgeting as one of the senior editors, a tall man with graying hair, speaks up.

“Well, Y/N, you’ve shown us a lot today,” he says, and you hold your breath, waiting. “We’re pleased to offer you a position on our editing team. Congratulations.”

The words hit you like a wave, and for a moment, you’re not sure you heard correctly. Then, a wide smile spreads across your face, and a rush of relief and joy floods through you. “Thank you! I’m so excited to be here. I promise I’ll work hard and give my best.”

They hand you your phone back, still sealed in its pouch, and guide you back through the maze of hallways. You bow in gratefulness, a huge, full-teethed smile adorning your face.

As you step out of the building into the cool night air, you finally allow yourself to breathe freely. You tear open the pouch and grab your phone, hands slightly trembling with excitement. The screen lights up, and you quickly navigate to your messages, fingers flying over the keyboard.

Idk how to feel about this chapter , ALSO I DONT KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT EDITING SO DONT BASH ME 😭😭😭

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