#and if you ever need someone to just talk to

[sayangrafayel]

LADS react to you asking them to set you up with someone else

This was a fun request. I might slip some dynamic duo rivalry here.. hmm.. maybe this is the same universe as loft talk. This is pre relationship prank!

Sylus, Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne, Caleb.

Sylus (Rafayel)

"Hey, Sy. Can you set me up with one of your roommates?" "I don't have roommates." "? What do you mean. You have four roommates. I want the artist!" "No I absolutely do not. What artist?"

Would NEVER let you meet Rafayel, no matter what it takes. Rarely ever bring you back to the loft anymore.

Considered moving out of the loft and everything but stopped once you tell him it's a prank.

Xavier (Jeremiah)

"Xavie, is Jeremiah seeing anyone?" "I don't know a Jerry." "Jeremiah." "I don't know who that is either."

He gets SOOOO jealous (that's why we like him)

Why would you ask him to set you up with someone else. He's right there. He's perfect for you in every way. 🥺🥺🥺 - Xavier, probably

Rafayel (Sylus)

"Can you set me up with one of your friends?" "I don't have friends." "Yes you do! That Fruit guy breathtaking!" "You know what else is breathtaking? If I were to hold his head underwater." "Sorry?" "I said I am also breathtaking!"

He fish. Fish forgor stuff. Roommate? Who? Sylus? Thomas? Who???? What are you talking about?

Becomes extra mean to Sylus the next day and Sylus was so confused as to why is his bestfriend who is not his bestfriend seems to hate him more than usual!?

Zayne (Greyson)

"Dr. Zayne, can you set me up with Greyson?" "Why?" "Because.. I want to?" "His name is Doctor Greyson, and do you really want to..?" "Yes please! Set me up with Dr. Greyson!" "...." "Zayne?" "If that's what you want."

I don't think he's gonna try to stop you nor does he realize you're testing the waters to see how he feels about you, defeatedly gives Greyson your number, but Greyson was so confused because why would he hit up Zayne's girlfriend???

"She's your girl, Zayne." "She is not." "Yes she is, she's just testing to see how you'd react, dummy. Now go and actually ask her out."

Caleb (Gideon)

Before you start pranking him, you prayed for Gideon's safety.

"Caleb, can you set me up with-" "He's gay." "I haven't even said a name!" "Yeah, everybody around me is gay. I'm their ally." "Caleb!!!"

He'd frown and keep telling you why would you need anybody else when you can have HIM. He's the one who knows you the best! He knows how to make you smile! He's 100% your boyfriend material! 😤

[randomshyperson]

One Of Your Girls - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

summary: A study session turns into a make out session. Or the one where the most beautiful girl on campus is your situationship and you would never refuse to distract her, even during exam weeks.

words: 3.820k | warnings: (+18), college au, fuck buddies, popular!wanda x loser!reader, mostly smut but there’s actually some plot here, bottom!wanda (we need way more of this sorry), oral, fingering, some dirty talk, reader is briefly described to be shy and introverted because of the loser archetype, w and r are actually super comfortable with each other don’t be fooled, text messages are in bold cause i never tried that before.

A/N-> I have written more than 100 works for wanda, but I don’t remember ever writing casual sex before. To be a demisexual is really something, huh? Anyways, this was actually based on ��One of Your Girls” from Troye Sivan, but around the middle I just started doing my own thing honestly. Good reading!

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad | Song-Based Collection

-&-

To inspire students to have sharper minds, as she likes to say, Miss Harkness is known for having the hardest tests on the entire campus. This means that you needed to study seriously for next week's exam, without quick readings or breaks to watch the television or talk about anything other than Applied Sociology with your friends.

And definitely, no 'study' sessions with Wanda Maximoff.

You shouldn't even think about Wanda, and her emerald eyes and bold hands. You need to think about Émile Durkheim or Max Weber, and any other sociologist from past centuries, with their difficult theories from which long and complicated questions will be in your exam.

But Wanda and the casual thing you two have is like clockwork. You had barely made up your mind about keeping your distance, and prepared a proper study session in your dorm - empty that afternoon due to a divine miracle that occupied Natasha and her girlfriend Maria all day - for your cell phone to vibrate with the notification from the person you had decided to ignore.

Stealing a glance at the contact name, you grunted quietly and turned your attention back to the book that had just finished reading the first page.

Focus.

Another vibration makes you roll your eyes.

Wanda didn't do anything wrong, maybe you could just say you’re busy.

"I am bored."

Her text makes you laugh through your nose. Typing quickly, you don't expect a return to your "And I’m busy. Talk to u later."

Your cell phone vibrates again, but you stand firm. Sociology will not study itself. There's a shift of pages, and you taste some of the mint tea from the mug on the table before your cell phone rings again.

Maybe it's someone else. It may be important.

You can’t even fool yourself.

The book is placed on your lap, and you unlock the screen for a photo that brings a warm color to your ears and spreads around your body as quickly as this whole thing began.

"What if I was in public?." You type with a certain harshness, which doesn't match the way your heart missed a beat. Or how you've completely forgotten about the book now, and all you can do is bite back a sigh at the image of the prettiest nipples in this galaxy.

Wanda responds in the same second, and you want to ignore the way your stomach twists at the thought of her feeling eager for a response from you.

"Kinky."

You laugh, rolling your eyes. "You're the worst" That's what you type. You end up sighing when looking at the pile of books around. Wanda only needed one stupid photo to completely take your focus away.

She types before you can tell her off for it. "Are you in your dorm? Wanna see you."

You bite your lip. She is so infuriating.

"I have to study."

You can almost hear her giggling on the other end. "Don't you always?"

You think about cursing at her teasing, but you don't want to cross any lines. It's true that this relationship is a constant push and pull, but Wanda isn't clingy for no reason. You're about to ask if something happened when she adds "Are you really gonna force me to send another photo..."

You swallow hard. "I'm not forcing you to do anything. I was innocently studying until now.”

It takes her a moment, but finally, there's another photo. With your fingers shaking, you forget to breathe at the image of her thighs, a red garter belt in contrast to the pale skin, barely covered by her mini-skirt. It was such a simple image yet so provocative, Wanda truly had talent.

"Fuck me." You sigh quietly, unable to type anything back for a moment.

And so she does it first. "Did I melt your brain?"

“Please come here.” You begged, only imagining her smirk on the other line.

Wanda typed back a second later; “I thought you were studying. I wouldn't want to distract you.”

You huckle incredulously at her cynicism, and almost type back a curse but end up deciding to get up instead, hurrying to make the room less messy for your guest.

Wanda takes a while to show up at your room - Unlike you, she lives on the other side of campus, in an apartment shared with her brother. The outfit she's wearing is definitely more impressive in person, and you have to control yourself not to feel jealous at the realization that a good part of the university has just seen her parading around looking so stunning. This was definitely Yelena's doing, the one responsible for trying out everything she learned in her course on her friends and successfully dressing the whole group like supermodels.

Sometimes you wish you were more sociable, at least to be friends with Yelena and get new clothes.

Not that you have any idea of ​​this, but Wanda did a great job of hiding the way her stomach did two flips when she saw how comfy you looked, the dark green sweatshirt covering your shorts making her immediately think about exploring underneath.

"What's up, loser?"

Wanda had this problem. High defense barriers, almost all the time, but especially when she was feeling things that were out of her control. Like the way her heart raced in your presence, or how she was starting to run out of decent excuses to meet you without admitting the only reason was simply because she wanted to spend some time together.

When you first talked, freshman year, she was the most intimidating person on campus (she still is), but with a little insistence (or friends playing cupid) you had managed to see sides of her that no one else had seen. And vice versa.

It was a pretty interesting dynamic, the most popular girl on campus and a big nerd with social anxiety were somehow dating. Wanda dragged you to parties whenever possible, a possessive hand on yours and a threatening look at any idiot who thought of giving you a hard time. And often you end up in some drunken Instagram live or records of friends making out in the background.

When you weren’t doing the things she liked, Wanda would just show up. After your classes, in the study hall, during your break from your internship, and in your dorm. She didn’t mind showing you off, but there was something so soft about spending time alone. When her defenses were down, the mean girl mask would fall and she would laugh at your stupid jokes, or dress up in your clothes to make pancakes in the middle of the night.

It wasn’t an official relationship, but it was something really closer to one. Something that gave her free rein to come and go as she pleased from your life, and mess everything around as she went.

You made room for her to enter, and she gave a long kiss to your cheek before leaving her shoes at the entrance. You were blushing when you closed the door.

The dorm you shared with Natasha had little more than the space needed for two beds and two desks, but somehow you and her managed to squeeze in enough decorations on the walls and even some of her ballet and fighting awards. Your side was covered in band and movie posters and science holiday medals. A barely used keyboard sat dusty in the corner, and you had made a mental note to show Wanda how to play Over the Rainbow sometime. She tossed her backpack on the corner of your desk, and you hurried to try to clear up some of the clutter on the wood, blushing even more when she chuckled. 

“Come here.” She asked softly, and you swallowed hard as you stumbled closer to her again, guided by her hands holding your wrists. Wanda actually wanted your arms around her, and that’s where she put them. So her hands went up to your shoulders. “You always get so shy when we’re alone.” 

“I am shy.” 

She shakes her head slightly.  “That’s not true,” she says, leaning in close to brush her lips against yours. You gasp slightly, and Wanda pulls away, teasing. "You're an introvert, but no one shy says the things you say when you're turned on, darling"

Yochuckle, shaking your head with pink cheeks. "Shut up." 

She bites back a smile, and leans in, but the kiss is too short, it's so unfair. You try to chase her mouth, but Wanda pulls away to hug you. And that surprises you as much as her breathing deeply into your neck. 

You don't remember hugging her before. Not really. There's plenty of sex of course, and making out and pillow talk and late-night snacks. But Wanda isn't the type to cuddle, or hug. It gives what you two have an intimacy that you understand she doesn't want to have, or didn’t, past tense. 

Your hand caresses your back, and you're not quite sure if you should say anything but finally you do; "Is everything okay?"

It's like throwing a bucket of cold, reality-filled water over her. She breaks the hug, forcing a laugh that doesn't convince you at all.

"Of course!" She says, pulling you close at once and giving you a kiss that's much more determined than before. That almost makes you forget where you were, almost. "Let's take these off." She pulls the folds of your sweater up, but even though you let her, you risk:

"Wanda, are you sure-"

She cuts you off again, this time kissing you with tongue. It's definitely hotter, and it elicits a breathless moan from you. Her hand holds your face, controlling the kiss until you whimper against her mouth. Wanda lets you breathe as she pushes you by the shoulders to the bed, and you fall sitting, facing her.

"I said take your clothes off." She repeats, but it's her who puts on a little show. She pulls off her blouse at once, and the exposure of her breasts covered only by a red lace bra leaves you mesmerized. Wanda giggles at your reaction. “Every damn time.” She teases, her hands moving to undo it. But you move suddenly, grabbing her hips and pulling her onto your lap in urgency. Wanda gasps in surprise at the heated kiss, losing herself in the task of removing her bra as you start to suck on her tongue. With one hand on your shoulder for support, the other ruffles your hair before she feels her bra loosen on her body, not having even noticed your hands working on the clasp until now. She bites her bottom lip as she feels the item being pulled away from her body. 

“You’re getting better at this.” She teases again. You look at her with lust-bright eyes but also with a frown.

“Better? When have I ever been bad at this? Certainly not with you, because you came three times on your first time together.” 

Wanda raises an eyebrow at you, her hips grinding slowly against your lap. “Like I said, not shy at all.” You roll your eyes, gripping her hips a little more firmly to guide her movements. It's Wanda who chases your mouth again, returning with equal fervor every kiss you give her.

Your hands let go of her hips to slide down her thighs, until finally touching the garter belt. You break the kiss with an affected groan, and Wanda takes the opportunity to catch her breath a little. If the image of her swollen lips and dilated pupils wasn't enough to drive you crazy, looking down did. Her skirt was wrinkled up, and the red garter belt was truly a sight. A damp spot was now visible on your pants from all her grinding, and you would have time to feel proud of making her so aroused with just kisses later.

As you pulled the garters and made them slap gently against Wanda's skin, you smiled when she shivered, a breathy moan escaping her mouth. It was such a beautiful thing, turning all her bad girl attitude into a pathetic mess of whimpering.

But suddenly you remembered that she had walked across half the campus wearing this, so your clenched jaw had another reason.

"Did you get dressed up for me?"

Wanda gave a short laugh, not really understanding what you were saying. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

You glared at her, your hands giving another warning tug, and Wanda wanted to hate the way her body twitched, but she couldn't help it.

"If not me, who?"

She blinked in confusion, deep in her own lust. 

Why were you still talking when she was literally dripping on your lap?

"What are you-" She fell silent when you grabbed her throat, your grip making her thrust her hips in desperation for friction, her mouth opening in a needy moan. Her own reaction surprised her, and Wanda would have tried to work things out if you hadn't taken away her ability to respond when you kissed her again, dirty and hard until she started whimpering on your tongue again. When you pulled apart again, your fingers invaded her mouth and Wanda's eyes widened, realizing that this might be the first time she'd come without even being properly touched.

You seemed to have noticed the same thing, a chuckle escaping you as she began sucking on your fingers with the same fervor she was trying to grind into your lap.

"Tsk, look at you, Wanda." You began, your hand moving from her throat down to her garter belt, to pull it off again. "You really want me to believe anyone else can turn you into this needy mess?" Flushed with arousal, Wanda still manages to frown in confusion. Anyone else. What the hell are you talking about? There’s no one else.

But suddenly, you remove your fingers from her mouth, and when she tries to ask, it's too late. Your soaked fingers have moved down and they fill her without warning, sinking inside her and eliciting a throaty moan that makes her head fall forward, forehead to yours, and nails digging into your shoulders. You laugh hoarsely. "Fuck, you're so wet, Wands."

The dirty sound of your fingers moving inside her echoes in the room along with her breathless moans, but you don't prolong things for too long. There’s an urgency and roughness to your movements that makes Wanda roll her eyes back and bounce on your fingers in animalistic desperation.

“Oh, baby, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna—” It’s always such a beautiful sight. She arches on top of you, spasming as her climax hits her and spreads hot waves of pleasure. Your hand is soaked, but you pull your fingers away to lick them one by one as Wanda tries to get back into orbit.

When she finally does, it's rewarding. It's your turn to have your throat grabbed, and Wanda presses forward until you're lying on the bed, at her mercy, even as a smile plays on your lips.

It's time for her to shake that smugness off your face.

"You're overdressed." It comes in a warning tone, and her hands go down to remove your clothes, one by one. You help her, between one kiss and another, a touch and a squeeze, until finally, Wanda ends up on your lap again, this time, with no fabric between you other than the beautiful lingerie she picked out for you.

Oh, of course she lets you know.

"I don't want you to get any more cocky than you already are." She began between the countless breathless kisses you were exchanging, minutes on end in this hot make-out session. "But all I could think about when I bought it was how you were going to look at me." She takes advantage of your gasp in surprise to bite your lip and pull, making you tremble. With a smug little smile, Wanda looks at you with darkened eyes. "And how were you going to take it off."

Your hands move of their own accord - There's a hard tug to pull her against you, and you end up rolling around on the bed, until Wanda ends up underneath, writhing at your touch. Your fingers slipped under the belt again, but now you take your time to remove the item, slowly until Wanda couldn't hold her breath any longer.

Stealing a glance at her dripping pussy that she displayed so proudly on her parted legs, you clicked your tongue again before finding your space in her middle, your hands fitting behind her thighs.

"You spoil me, you know?" You whisper, feeling her fit her ankles into your back, an impatient whimper escaping her. You were so close to where she wanted, needed, but still not giving her what she was begging for. "I don't know what I did to deserve such a sweet gift."

Wanda tries to play along, she really does. But you give her a tentative lick, and another, and all that escapes her are shaky moans, as one hand grips your hair, the other seeks support in the sheets. Something she can pull at will without hurting.

She feels hot in all the right places, and she wants to police herself for how addicted she is becoming to the feeling of having you like this, but it's impossible to think about that right now. With you eating her so well and making her forget all her problems.

You hum suddenly, satisfied at the taste, and at the vibration, Wanda loses it. There's a loud whimper escaping her throat as she arches against you, begging for more, but you hold her in place, your own hips grinding against the bed as Wanda starts to sound desperate for your tongue to go deeper.

When you risk teasing her again, shallow tongue strokes that leave her dizzy and shaking, Wanda loses her patience. She curses under her breath, and grabs your hair with determination, managing a satisfied grunt from you before she forces your face against her pussy. Not caring if she’s hurting you or suffocating you, Wanda chases her high with near desperation. She grinds her hips against your face, and locks her legs behind your back, using you until she comes.

She sounds so hot when it finally happens. Your name drips from her tongue as she drips into your mouth. It’s so strong that her body instantly goes weak, her legs shaking around you. You chuckle against her thigh, taking great satisfaction in leaving her like this.

Still catching her breath, she calls out. “Come here, asshole.”

You think she wanted a kiss, maybe another orgasm. But Wanda just adjusts you to her side, so she can rest against you. This is new too, spooning. It's the kind of thing casual encounters shouldn't do.

Of course she notices how tense you've become, and it only takes the moment for her to stop shaking for Wanda to look up, her chin resting on your chest.

"You don't have to overthink everything."

A nervous laugh escapes you. "I wasn’t."

Wanda makes a small grimace of unconvincedness. "I know you were. It's what you do. It's one of the things that makes you, you." She says, and it takes you a little by surprise. She sighs then, and looks away, resting her face against your chest again. You almost think she's not going to say anything else when she continues. "It's good that you think of all the possibilities. That way I'll never be able to disappoint you, you'll always see it coming."

You frown, absorbing her words in silence for a moment. Wanda begins to draw patterns on your stomach that look like her initials, until you sigh.

"I know we haven't named it what’s between us, but whatever it is, you can always tell me what's bothering you." You let her know quietly, your fingers playing through the strands of her hair. "And we can just talk, you know? It doesn't always have to end in sex. You don't have to get a new lingerie as an excuse to see me. No matter how hot you look on it."

She pinches you for the joke, but she’s smiling when she looks back at you.

“You’re not good at the whole casual sex thing, are you?” She teases, but she’s genuinely so happy with your previous words that she just can’t hide it.

You smile, watching her hover closer and closer. “You think? Because I think I’m doing pretty well at this, miss-Oh, baby, I’m gonna come,”

You do an imitation that makes Wanda's eyes widen and she blushes deeply while she huffs in embarrassment. You burst out laughing when she tries to cover your mouth and stop the teasing, and it ends up turning into a small fight of hands and tickles until Wanda ends up underneath again, now with her hands pinned on either side of her head.

There is an exchange of glances between the two of you, and you are smiling just like her.

You know that today, Wanda will not tell you what bothered her, what brought her here. She is right, however, you’re an overthinker and already have a hundred possibilities for what could have brought her there, and considering that you know from her friends how much she has been fighting with her father in the last few weeks, it is not hard to assume it is related to that.

But Wanda returns the intensity of your gaze, and you know that something between you has changed. She will tell you when she is ready.

Your grip on one of her hands loosens, and Wanda uses the opportunity to touch your cheek.

"What are you thinking about?"

You sigh, and she can tell. Her heart misses a beat, and she considers if she’s ready for a confession. If it would scare her or make her so happy, she would freeze. Maybe both. 

But you grimace a little, and smirk, and Wanda feels silly for even considering.

"I'm definitely going to fail Miss Harkness's class this semester."

Wanda frowns and then bursts out laughing, confused and incredulous.

"What?" She asks between laughs. “Why would you be thinking about this now? With a naked girl in your bed, you nerd!”

You giggle at her words, your free hand fitting on her waist as you wait for her to stop chuckling. "I don't know why you're laughing, this is your fault. You ruined all my study sessions with your... distracting presence."

She rolls her eyes in a playful manner. “"Well, I could always just leave-"

You grip her waist tighter, holding her in place. "Nah, who cares about classes anyway? Come here."

Wanda will definitely help you study, she makes a mental promise. But she will kiss you first just a little longer.

[unabletonotlovesatoru]

you walk into the room, mid-sentence about something entirely unimportant, and then—you see him.

nanami, standing near the mirror, adjusting the hem of a fitted black turtleneck.

your brain malfunctions.

your words die in your throat. your hands twitch at your sides. your vision blurs at the edges, because holy hell.

nanami notices the abrupt silence and glances at you, brow slightly raised. “what’s wrong?”

you inhale sharply, gripping the nearest surface for support. “you—” you point at him, dramatically, accusatorily. “what is this?”

he looks down at himself, then back at you, visibly confused. “a turtleneck?”

“a turtleneck,” you repeat in a strangled whisper, staring at him like he just walked off a high-end runway.

because he looks like he did. the sleek black fabric clings to his frame just right, highlighting the broad stretch of his shoulders, the trim fit of his waist. the sleeves are snug around his forearms, and the way the high collar frames his jawline—

you clutch your chest. “nanami.”

he blinks, tilting his head slightly. “yes?”

“you look illegal.”

his brows furrow, his lips parting like he’s about to argue, but you don’t give him the chance. you push off the counter, pacing the room as you wave your hands wildly.

“why did you never wear this before?!” you demand. “who allowed this?! why does it look so good?!”

nanami exhales through his nose, rubbing his temple. “you’re being dramatic.”

“am i?” you whirl around, pointing at him again. “do you see yourself right now? i feel like i need to sit down. no, actually, i need a moment of silence to process this.”

“you’re ridiculous,” he mutters, shaking his head, but the tips of his ears are pink.

you stomp closer, grabbing his arms, squeezing them through the sleeves. “oh my god,” you whisper, eyes wide. “this is life-changing.”

nanami sighs but doesn’t pull away, letting you fawn over him, his mouth twitching like he’s suppressing a smile. “if i knew this would be your reaction, i would’ve worn it sooner.”

“yes! you should have!” you shake him slightly. “this is unfair! i wasn’t prepared!”

he finally chuckles, deep and warm, and it makes your knees weak. “noted.”

“good,” you huff, pressing your forehead against his chest, defeated. “but you’re never allowed to wear this in public. ever.”

he hums, amused, resting a hand on your lower back. “and why’s that?”

you glare up at him. “because i will get arrested for public indecency when i start fighting people for looking at you.”

nanami sighs again, but there’s undeniable amusement in his expression as he presses a kiss to your temple.

“noted,” he murmurs.

you grip his arms tighter, as if grounding yourself, but it only makes things worse because—why are his arms so firm in this? why is the fabric hugging him like it was personally designed to make you lose your mind?

“nanami,” you breathe, eyes flickering between his face and his absurdly unfair physique. “i feel like i’m seeing you for the first time.”

he chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest. “you see me every day.”

“not like this,” you argue, shaking your head as you run your hands up his arms, over his chest. “this is different. this is—this is criminal.”

he exhales, exasperated but undeniably amused. “it’s just a turtleneck.”

“just a turtleneck?” you gasp, stepping back like he’s offended you on a spiritual level. “nanami kento, you’re standing there looking like a—a millionaire assassin, or—or a mysterious stranger in a noir film.” you gesture wildly. “you could walk into a high-end bar and steal someone’s wife right now.”

he pinches the bridge of his nose. “why would i want to steal someone’s wife when i have you?”

your brain short-circuits for a second, but you recover quickly, smacking his chest. “don’t distract me with sweet talk! i’m still reeling!”

nanami sighs, stepping forward to pull you into his arms. his hands settle at your waist, fingers pressing into your sides in a way that makes your stomach flip.

“do you need to sit down?” he teases, voice low and warm.

you scowl up at him, but it holds no real heat. “yes, actually. i do. because if i look at you any longer, i might pass out.”

he huffs a quiet laugh, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “maybe you should get used to it. i was thinking of getting more.”

you audibly gasp, clutching at his shoulders. “you were?”

he hums, tilting his head slightly. “considering the… positive reaction, yes.”

you grip the front of his turtleneck, staring at him with pure adoration. “you would bless me like that?”

his lips twitch, eyes soft. “i would.”

you dramatically flop against his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist. “nanami kento, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

he chuckles, rubbing slow circles into your back. “all because of a turtleneck?”

“no,” you murmur, squeezing him tighter. “because you’re you.”

nanami goes quiet for a moment, then sighs, resting his chin on top of your head.

“… you’re impossible.” he mutters, but the warmth in his voice gives him away.

[pupkashi]

a/n: some more jinwoo headcanons #needthat :P

boyfriend!jinwoo who absolutely melts under your touch, any stress he’s harboring in his shoulders dissipates the second he comes home to you

boyfriend!jinwoo who is so smitten with you he finds himself wanting to come home to you every hour of the day, even finding himself at your job at random times because there was an ‘urgent matter’ he needed to discuss with you, even pulling the s rank card at times to get to you (he just wanted to see you and ask if you needed anything from the grocery store)

boyfriend!jinwoo who didn’t mind you teasing him, always having a small smile on his face when you tried to playful fight or wrestle with him, he was always gentle with you, making sure to keep his strength in check

boyfriend!jinwoo who would flip you under him and pin your wrists to the ground in the blink of an eye when you were being too bratty for his liking, his eyes glowing as he hovered over you, “you done sweetheart?”

boyfriend!jinwoo who blushes SO profusely anytime he finds you staring at him shirtless or in his boxers, he gets so shy under your gaze and his face flushes a deep pink color “w-what? do i have something on me?” he asks, trying to catch a glance of himself in the mirror only for you to shake your head no, “you’re just good to look at” you tease

boyfriend!jinwoo who picks you up and carries you around like you weight nothing, especially when you’re being stubborn about something he’s not above simply picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder

boyfriend!jinwoo who is too attractive for his own good, not realizing just how hot he was and flashing a smile out of kindness to a girl at the bar, you roll your eyes at him when he turns around, grabbing your things and walking out of the bar

“doll what’s wrong?” he’s quick to follow after you, when you don’t stop he’s standing in front of you in a flash, causing you to walk into his toned chest. before you can walk around him he’s got both your hands in his, “don’t walk away from me, talk to me my love”

boyfriend!jinwoo who leaves beru with you when he has to be far from you, beru quickly takes a liking to you after seeing how happy his liege was with you, when jinwoo summons him back he feels a little sad, telling jinwoo he would be more than happy to keep guard of you again, even managing to slip in how you were the only one fit enough for someone such as his highness

boyfriend!jinwoo who loves cooking for you, making you your favorite dishes and comfort foods. he loves having you sit on the counter next to him in one of his t shirts, letting you try everything and getting your input (you always think it’s perfect)

boyfriend!jinwoo who seems so stoic and emotionless in public, but is a ball of happiness and softness with you behind closed doors, warm eyes and soft gentle touches reserved just for you

the world would never know that sung jinwoo practically purrs when you run your fingers through his hair, gently scratching his scalp. only you would ever know the quiet whine he lets out when you kiss his sharp jawline. only you would ever know the sound of his giggles when you place a flurry of kisses on his face. only you would get to see the love sick look on his face when you catch him staring at you randomly during domestic moments.

boyfriend!jinwoo who reserves the sweetest part of himself for only you <3

[rafesbuzzcutseason]

chasing city lights

chapter 22 - every word

synopsis: you move to new york to start fresh, hoping to find comfort in the city’s atmosphere. that’s when you meet sarah cameron, where she takes you to a concert and you catch sight of the lead band member, rafe cameron. it only takes a moment for you to realize you’re captivated by him. as sarah helps you navigate your new life in the city, you start to get pulled deeper into rafe's world—the music, the fame, the chaos. the more you get to know him, the more you realise that rafe is not just the rock star he seems to be. he’s wrestling with his own demons, and the last thing he needs is someone like you getting close.

masterlist

cw: language, angst, sorry this is more fic i had to get it out

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

you had just settled down for the evening, having spent the day with kie you were feeling happy and ready to unwind for bed, until you heard a knock on your door.

a wave of panic rushed over you, as the knocking only increased in desperation.

you got up and looked out the window, just to see:

rafe.

what the fuck was he doing here.

you stood there, frozen in your position with your heart hammering in your chest.

another knock. louder this time.

“y/n, please open the door.”

your fingers twitched at your sides, reaching for the door knob.

how fucking dare he show up here after everything?

you yanked the door open so fast he took a step back, eyes widening slightly at your appearance.

you looked good, and from the way his gaze flickered over you, you knew he saw it too.

“what the fuck do you want, rafe?”

his jaw tensed, hands clenching into fists at his sides. “y/n." he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his messy hair. “can we just—can we talk? please?”

“talk?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. "now you want to talk? after you've seen me doing good?"

rafe’s eyes darkened, his whole body tensing. “y/n, it’s not what you think.”

you shook your head, letting out a laugh. “it never is, is it?”

his jaw twitched, struggling to keep his composure. he wasn't expecting you to be angry. “that picture—”

“don’t.” you held up a hand. “i don’t want to hear it.”

he stepped closer, his voice dropping. “it’s not what it looked like.”

you let out a sharp breath, forcing yourself to meet his sad gaze. “you think that changes anything?” your voice wavered, but you steadied it. “you didn’t call, rafe. you didn’t text. not once.”

his lips parted like he wanted to argue, "you broke up with me. what was i supposed to do?"

“you let me sit in that heartbreak alone,” you whispered, voice laced with so much anger it nearly scared you. “you didn't even try. and then i wake up to you kissing another girl?"

rafe shook his head quickly. “i was drunk, y/n-"

“no.” you clenched your jaw, gripping the door like it was the only thing keeping you steady. “let me finish. you don’t get to show up here and act like you give a shit. you don't get to release this fucking song like it'll win me back."

his eyes searched yours, something breaking in his expression. “i do give a shit,” he said, voice softer now, almost desperate. “i still- that song, i meant every word.”

“no.” you stepped back, “i don’t want to hear it.” tears threatening to spill. "you didn't even fight for me." you whispered.

rafe's heart dropped at that, he took another step forward, his voice, desperate. “y/n, please. i messed up. i know i did. but you have to believe me, that song, that was real. we were real. everything you think happened, didn't happen. i only ever wanted you, only ever loved you. fuck, still love you.”

your chest ached, like he was physically pulling at the wound he left in you. part of you wanted to believe it. but another part, the part that still felt the sting of betrayal, the part that had spent weeks crying over him, knew better.

“i don’t care.” the lie tasted bitter on your tongue.

his face fell those words punching him in the stomach. “yes, you do.”

you swallowed, you couldn't look at him. “you let me go.”

his lips parted, but no words came out. he tried to step closer, take your hand in his. you almost let him.

tears started to well up in rafe's eyes, and the sight made you want to break.

"why did you kiss her rafe? did i mean that little?" you questioned, voice shaking.

"no y/n, that isn't it." he started.

"then what is it?"

"i was so drunk."

"i know you were, i've already told you that isn't an excuse." anger burning inside you again.

"no y/n, i kissed her because-" his breath catching in his throat.

"spit it out rafe." your frustration rising.

"i thought it was you."

and just like that, the anger disappeared.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

a/n: i'm not done breaking your hearts just yet

taglist: @hoefordrewstarkey @marleymarleymarleymarley @bee-43 @cherryhoneybabe @skye-44 @drewrry @drewrry  @yesterdaysproblemm @dylsdaily @rafeysworldim19 @valyrianflower @kaiparkerwifes@judesgfirl@4urvalidation@chillgal135 @drewstarkeyslover@yesshewrites1@amterasuu@babykhloutofthisworld@blushmimi  @moonywhisp3rs @rafeysworldim19 @marleymarleymarleymarley@sabrina-carpenter-stan-account@vcnillafairy@bambii1i @sammyrenae68 @kittenjujusblog @bambii1i @thesunflowersociety @wtfdudesblog @voidangxls @jjmaybankmylovee @munsoncultedits @emmiesummers @darlingstarkey @sassyvillaintrophy  @pogueprincesa @stylestarkey @sodapopwaldor @hannaa20002000 @stelleduarte @davinashifts333

[softness-and-shattering]

Most of my autistic friends expect that their friendships will one day out of the blue blow up in their face as people vent built-up frustrations about behaviours that annoyed others that was never ever communicated to them, and/or because of whats called "the double empathy problem" which describes one of the main ways allistic-autistic communication goes sideways. Ive been in social groups - discord type groups - where the autistics get kicked out because we are speaking plainly and askingd questions, and the mods or admin or other authority figures interpret these questions as deliberate insubordination and challenges to their authority, get "tired and fed up" with "the disrespect" and start kicking people. I have seen this happen in disability groups.

And its not all black and white. Like sometimes I can pick up on social cues because I have deliberately learned them, or learned them the hard way. I can even sometimes say one thing and mean another, but I dont often. I might pick up on one cue and totally miss another. Sometimes I just dont know why someone is saying something, theyre obviously implying something but I dont know what. This can get tricky when someone wants to indicate something without being able to be quoted about it, and sometimes I need to ask them to clarify and if theyre still dodgy I have to guess and hope I got it right.

And sometimes we're aware of unspoken rules but we dont recognise their authority over us because theyre bad or nonsensical. We tend to stick to rules if we understand them and they make sense. When theyre crap rules, I dont care how much money someone makes I will treat them the same as everyone else. I dont care how many high status cars someone has, we are equals.

Im getting off track - my point is that basically every autistic I know has ongoing trauma of friendships and social groups suddenly turning on them for no discernable reason and no warning and absolutely no previous indication that anything was wrong - sometimes after being explicitly told everything was ok the day before. This happens to us all the time. Its so damaging and so hurtful.

Personally I dont second guess as a general rule. I someone has a problem with me I trust they will tell me about it and we can problem solve and introspect. If Im not told, no matter what vibes Im picking up bc I dont know if the vibes are real or my own anxieties, I will act like nothing is wrong. If someone wants to blow up at me that has reflects zero on me and entirely on their inability to speak up about whatever was bothering them. Thats not a me problem. I cannot do anything with zero information.

Lemme induct you in an autistic way of bring and introduce you to a script you can use. Something like "hi friend, can I talk to you for a second about the meeting yesterday? [If Y continue, if N ask when you can talk to them about it.*] So I dont know if you noticed, but you spent the whole time tapping your fingernails on the table, and honestly the noise was distracting and mightve been irritating for some people. I just thought you should know bevause I dont think anyone else was going to bring it up with you. Could you please find a quieter way to stim/do what you need to/move in the ways you need to to concentrate. Ok thank you, no ones super upset just mildly irritated I think. I just figured someone should actually tell you"

Or even "hi. You spent the whole meeting earlier tapping on the table and it was pretty loud. Could you please find a way to be quieter in meetings, its just a bit distracting for some people? Awesome thank you".

Just be polite and straightforward, say what you want and what the problem is. Assume competence, sometimes we make deliberate choices against the status quo for important reasons not cluelessness. And give time for them to figure out an alternative, be undsrstanding if they cant. Just use your words, communicate clearly. It might feel a little confrontational but believe me its not as bad as bring dropped as a friend or fired out of nowhere. That sucks**

*Dont just say "can we talk", give a reason, otherwise they will likely spend the time between notification and meeting inventing every worse case scenario they can possibly think of. A couple words of context goes a long way.

** I came across a youtuber who, idk for sure if theyre autistic but they talk with an extremely flat effect (meaning, little tonal variance between words, not much expression in the voice, every word comes out more or less the same, "robotic"), which is an autistic trait. They mentioned in a video that they had a 'normal' job before youtube, until one day they found themself fired, given reason was their flat effect scared people and made them seem unfriendly and unhappy to be there and interacting. Sounded like it was completely out of the blue. Thats a job lost due to ableism though possibly no one involved sees it that way. Some people cant change how they speak or dont want to. Shouldnt have to. But at least mention it, see if the person is willing to adjust, and consider if it truly disqualifies them from being able to perform the job or is it just a little unusual.

I saw some snippet of a callout post for an autistic trans woman where they list social faux pas she committed, and I think we allistic people should all feel 100x more ashamed of not telling people in the moment how we feel about what they're doing. I think its extremely evil and cruel to not only lie to an autistic person and blame them for it but also to feel justified shaming them for your behavior. And it's currently the social norm to do that

[sheepispink]

THE TRUTH. (super soldier au part 2)

cw: mentions of telling someone to commit suicide, threats, bullying

guys idk how i feel about this one but here u go 🙏

PART ONE

———-

Happy Birthday

freak.

A present stopped you from walking out at your usual time. It was a week until your birthday, and usually no one remembered other than those who had your file. Although that mostly consisted of blacked out paragraphs now.

It’s wrapped a little messily, not the worst, and you slowly pick it up, noticing a weight inside. You had never got a present before, much less more than a small timeframe to have some sort of celebration— not that you ever took that opportunity anyway. Most years you were too busy hung up with wires and drowning in your mind from drugs. Your thumb brushes over the paper curiously, looking for a name tag but finding nothing to mark the sender. Neatly, you rip a line through the paper which reveals a cardboard box. It’s blank, no branding or anything to attach itself to. When you open it though, you’re quickly greeted by a strange sight; a gun.

A handgun to be more specific, a Browning L941 if you wanted details. It sits neatly in the box, looking clean but you can tell by the small nicks in metal it’s not new. There’s a note beside it, typed— never handwritten.

“If your aim is as good as they say, surely you can prove it by putting it to your head.”

You’re not too surprised, at least more than the initial eye widening. After all, you did deal with the piece of paper on your designated breakfast table every morning. Your eyes flicker down, to the sentence beneath.

“If you’re too scared, we’ll just have to deliver the gift in person.”

That makes you blink, the implications of the clear threat not lost on you. It wasn't the first time you’ve heard them; enemies swore that they’d tear you apart limb by limb, Ghost promised he’d douse you in cold water the next time you caused a bloodbath and even the scientists taunted you with those syringes. The difference was, those were.. well threats you couldn't exactly avoid. Ghost would always get mad at you for making a mess, and you used to be far more rebellious against the scientists— or was that fear? Enemies threatening you was just a farce anyway, you’d have their bodies by your feet soon enough that it wasn't even worth thinking over twice. But this? Comrades, or well they’re supposed to be, who want to kill you? Teammates who would live happier knowing they put you to the grave. It’s no longer the opposing team, no longer the one Ghost points his finger at, no longer the ones that destroy humanity.

No, they only want to destroy you.

For the first few days, you tried to shake it, but you were feeling the weight of the words even more than usual. The stab of pain in your back when they threw the bread roll at you; that could be a bullet next time. Your shoes in the toilet could be your body next time. The fox who whines and whimpers would be you when you were deemed useless.

The truth was, you didnt care about the damn movie, or the cake you were promised, nor even the words “happy birthday” being said to you. It was an excuse, a white lie even, to get the Captain, or Ghost, hoping one of them would actually come into your room. Never have they stepped foot in since your first arrival, never feeling the need to either. The Captain only had time to care when you emailed him, but even that seemed too risky, what if he laughed it off and the surrounding soldiers heard? Ghost barely ever gave you time to talk anyway, and when you did get a moment, there were too many around.

So you invited them over, tried your best act as if you really wanted a birthday to celebrate with them. They’d come, you’d show them the note, the gun. If they laughed, it’d be fine, hidden in your room— you could find a solution before they told the others and it spread around the base. If they didn't laugh, you’d be safe, guaranteed that no one would really try what would happen on that piece of paper.

But you hadn't anticipated that neither of them would come at all. Your eyes brim with tears, unsure how that is even possible as you step into your room, a tenseness sinking into your bones and spreading across your body. With them completely out of the picture, you’re left by yourself until your end surely comes. Maybe you should’ve known, especially when you remember what soldiers call you— a monster.

But it wasn’t in your coding, in your genes or even near your thought process to harm those that threaten you— at least not first anyways, and especially when they’re not explicitly enemies. This was a moral dilemma your tampered mind wasn't capable of handling. Despite the sick growing in your stomach, you had a plan. There were outdoor training rooms, more specifically small cabins that were sometimes used to punish soldiers if they acted up too much.

The gift remains untouched on the dresser, a silent promise watching you at all times. It’s almost four o clock now, and the day isn't getting any brighter in the middle of winter. Opening your closet, your hands pass over the many uniforms there. That’s all they give you, uniforms, it’s why yours are always clean— your only purpose is to fight. So you grab the jacket in the furthest corner, the one usually saved for extreme weather conditions and slip that on. It disguises your figure enough and the hiking boots are exactly what you need to be a new person.

Your hand grazes the knives in your old belt, and you take a few, sliding them into the new holster behind the jacket. Just in case. There’s nothing else to take now, apart from your small radio that you sometimes keep on your person— you dont really use a phone either since it was seen to be a distraction. You’ll likely have to starve for the rest of the day, though with your knowledge you could probably find some sort of food out there. Just in case, you grab an MRE, a spare that stays around in the off chance you get dizzy from eating nothing all day.

Slowly you step out in the hallway, looking around for anyone before closing your door shut again. You didnt dare make it suspicious with a backpack, so your bottle is stuffed into your jacket pocket instead. Same for the untampered gift on the table, they’d assume you’d be back later to open it.

This was your best bet.

You head down the corridors, keeping a confident pace so people wouldn’t even try suspect you— that’s the key to everything, after all. Ironically, that wasn’t the situation at all, in fact they were.. friendly? A few soldiers gave you a nod as you walked past, which wasn’t the craziest thing but, considering no one’s ever done that before, it was exhilarating. You nod in turn, a mask hiked up to your nose but it just looks like you’re keeping your face warm for when you go outside— not that anyone here is phased by a mere mask anyway. Infact, a few soldiers who look particularly boisterous even go as far to fist bump you, likely thinking you’re someone they know. You don't care in the slightest; you’re just happy that for once you get to experience what your life should’ve been like.

The giddiness is temporary though, as you turn the corner to see Ghost stepping out of a room with two crates of drinks in his hands. You falter, stopping in your tracks as he closes the door behind him.

Is this really the right idea? Running away like this?

It’s only for the day, at least that was the idea, but what after that? What if they didn't stop at your birthday— what if it continued? You could tell him right now, pull the mask down that covers your face and confess every little detail running through your head. What would you do if he got in trouble for your foolish decisions? He had shown his stance when he chose not to show up at your birthday party; he clearly didn't care at all.. right?

“Do you need something?” He says lowly, clearly having realised that you’ve frozen in your tracks before him, and giving you a narrowed stare for that reason. Surprisingly, it’s less demeaning and more questioning, considering how harsh his eyes usually go when looking at you. It gives you a bit of hope.

”D-do you need any help with that, sir?” You’re not sure why your voice stuttered, not particularly wanting to think much about the matter either. Instead, you stare right back at him, your eyes widened as you stare in his pupils moving around like it’s searching you.

Did he recognise you?

“No, that’s alright.” It’s gruff, and harsh and yet far more nicer than he’s ever spoken to you before. You manage to force yourself to nod in response, giving a small salute before hurrying off down the corridor.

Trekking through the forest is a little bit of an effort but you eventually meet the small cabin that’s there. It’s almost never used in winter, but in the summer they might do their training in these areas and keep the lunch here. Slowly you step inside, recognising from the get go that there’s not particularly much. There’s a few bedrolls for wilderness training, albeit a bit torn and some dry firewood left discarded on the little fireplace. That’s good, at least you won't freeze anymore than you already have. It’s not like you can use it though— it’s too risky. If anyone sees smoke out here you’re bound to get caught in seconds, and possibly even by your predators.

You lock the cabin door, placing a chair beneath the handle as you let out a sigh and slump against the wall. This would be a long, painstaking night and you cant help but wonder if it’d been better to just defend yourself when they came. But what if you lost control? What if you seriously hurt someone? Even if they were trying to harm you?

The thought makes you shudder, even more than the thoughts you’ve been desperately pushing back. But when there is nothing else to do in this cold place, it’s hard to keep your mind focused. The only way you survived these past three months with Ghost is by not thinking about your situation— at all. It’s probably why he hates you. From how he reacts anyway, you’re more like a robot than you’ve ever been a human. You’ve been monitored all your life, since before you were born you were made for the cause. No clue of who your mother was, you were genetically modified as an embryo for all the traits they wished for you to have. Other children in the program had the same, of course, and for the first years of your life you were blissfully unaware. You didn’t understand that the kids you ran around and giggled with would end up being your own enemies, despising that you turned out to be the successful experiment and not them. It wasn't as glamorous as it sounded, but they complained, saying you didnt have to be sent away like they did, to be fostered and deal with the pain of the experiments for the rest of their lives.

That’s exactly what you had though. You were split from them altogether, coddled by scientists and doctors, personal trainers who felt more like drill sergeants than anyone that wanted to help you. Of course, you were tampered with too, drugged up on strange substances as they tampered with your nerves, always changing you to be better because you were never enough for them. They were supposed to enforce rationality within you by erasing anything that could get you worked up, and so your emotions became suppressed, pushed down and piled with the weight of responsibilities to keep them down. But it clearly wasn't successful, at least when you’re not on the battlefield. When you entered that place, it was like a switch had turned on in your brain, all morality slipping out as you only followed the orders of whoever the handler was. Your mind always enters a haze after you snap out of it and come back from hours of combat, leaving you feeling sick to the core.

But now, things are changing— too fast. You had cried, because they didn't come to your birthday party. For once, your stomach felt sickly with misery and your breath had caught in your throat when you’ve never stopped breathing before, ever. Your hand reaches into your pocket, pulling out a small fox toy. It was a gift from a younger scientist who had just been a mere intern. He had been put forward for the menial task of looking after your post-experimentation state, making sure your vitals were fine. You didnt get to talk to him that much, considering you mostly were deep in sleep, recovering from the new strain on your body. But he stayed beside you, making sure you were okay. When you left to get tested on the field with Ghost, he gave you a small plush, just the size of your hand.

“A little gift.” He chuckled, smiling gently as he rubbed your bandaged arm. “Don't give me that look. I know you’re not actually that unbothered, they just made you that way. You can say you like it, you know, that it makes you happy.”

You could only nod in return, it was the truth, you were very happy.

The sky was already growing dark and without the determination that kept your body distracted from your needs, you were actually feeling your hunger full force for once. The little fox is clenched deep in your hands, a natural predator and yet it’s more common to see them die out in the wild than thriving. Just like you. Your stomach growls, and so you reach for your MRE, eyeing the food within. You were probably supposed to warm it up first, but you’d just have to eat it like this for now. You rip the first packet open, and just try to scarf it down without thinking about the taste too much. It wasn’t the best to say the least. But you’re used to it now; you barely got proper meals apart from missions, and often had to eat one of these after an unsuccessful trip to the mess hall.

You’re about to inspect the other packet when a low scratching noise is heard against the door. Instantly, you pause, mind shifting into something akin to a battle mode already. Slowly, you approach the door, pressing your ear as your hand reaches in your belt for the knife. The windows were frosted up, so it’s unlikely they could see in when it was already pretty dark in here. A low whine echoes out and you realise who's actually stalking you, quickly removing the chair and opening the door. The little fox stands there, looking up at you as it slowly steps inside the cabin.

For once, you let your guard down and just sigh, closing the door and securing it again. “C’mere.” You rarely fear anything, and so you scoop the little fox up without a second thought, even as it squirms initially and its claws are sharp on you. You settle in the warmest area of the room again, next to your mre pack and grab the fork, scooping out some of the food. You didn't need the rest, but he could use it. The fox reluctantly eats the food, and you giggle when you realise it probably doesn't taste much better to him either despite being starving. You took it off by letting him drink half the bottle of your water, which he greedily takes along with a few fruits you packed.

“Your fur is matted, and you’re all banged up but you’re still adorable.” The thought makes you sniffle, a bittersweet smile rising on your lips. The fox rests its head on your lap as you run your hand over its fur, gently scratching every now and then. Why couldn’t people see the truth in you as you did right now? You’ve trained for so long, fought to keep all of them safe on their missions and all you got in return was a scared look, disgust and sometimes even anger. It hurt, more than you allowed yourself to feel.

But this is the first time you’ve been alone without the battlefield before you, or a supervisor staring you down. You could have a gun to your head tonight, and no one will find out until the morning, so for now you just begged that the soldiers were joking, for the sake of everyone involved.

You just wish Ghost and Price would’ve listened, so you could be safe and warm back there, at least getting an early sleep on your birthday. The scientist promised, he said it’d get better, he said there would be others who would care like he did. He said only the higherups were this bad; he lied to you. The tears drip again, unable to stop this time and you bury your face in your hands, mourning everything you’ve lost, and everything you’ve yet to lose. Dead or alive, you may lose it all.

————————-

Taglist:

@mellohimmku94 @rafaelacallinybbay

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗗𝗥𝗨𝗡𝗞𝗟𝗬, 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗟𝗬 lando norris x friend! fem! reader (fluff) fic summary . . . After going out with lando to a club for funsies and drinks, the Brit's jealousy kicks in after someone tries to hit on you, which somehow finally leads to your first kiss.

( my master list | more of lando norris ) ( requests )

He was drunk. Horribly drunk.

A dreamy smile stretched across his face as you wiped the blood trickling from his nose, his head constantly tilting in your grip as you tried—without much success—to restore some semblance of dignity after the fight he just started and promptly lost.

See, your friend Lando got jealous. Ridiculously, stupidly jealous. And his jealousy didn’t mix well with the copious amount of alcohol he’d consumed. So when the guy you were chatting with dared to wrap a hand around your waist, Lando happily shoved his way through the crowd of dancing bodies to wedge himself between you and the other guy, pushing him off and throwing the first punch.

It did not end well for him.

Lando wasn’t built for fistfights—Fortnite and COD, maybe. Driving? Absolutely. But street fighting? Not a chance. One uppercut later, and he was out cold on the floor. And you, being the ever-loyal, ever-angelic friend, had no choice but to take his side. A well-placed kick to the groin and a solid punch later, you ended the fight.

Now, because you were such a good friend, you found yourself hauling his sorry, bleeding self to the club’s bathroom, plopping him on the counter so you could patch him up. At the very least, he needed to be in a presentable enough state to leave without anyone capturing the moment on video. F1 Twitter was already chaotic enough without footage of a bloodied Lando Norris surfacing. The cars needed to go racing—what would the fans do if they weren’t busy debating whether or not Lando was secretly vaping while pregnant? (Which, if men could get pregnant, Lando would surely be the first.)

“I bet you wouldn’t kiss me,” Lando blurted out suddenly, smiling up at you like the lost puppy he was.

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes.

He let out a loud laugh, arms lazily wrapping around your waist as he pulled you in, resting his chin on your chest and gazing up at you with that classic no-thoughts-head-empty expression.

“This is drunk Lando speaking,” he announced, promptly letting out a burp. You glanced up at the ceiling, hoping for divine intervention—or at the very least, an angel laughing at him and not at you.

“And as drunk Lando, I’m very angry at you,” he continued.

“You don’t look angry,” you countered, taking in his dopy, grinning face.

“I am very angry,” he insisted, shaking his head before nuzzling against you, eyes fluttering shut.

“Oh no, I wonder why?” you deadpanned, threading your fingers through his curls. That only made him squeeze you tighter, his grip firm but entirely affectionate.

“Because you let other guys touch you,” he muttered, voice muffled against you. “And you were talking to that guy. And you know I like you, but you still talked to the guy and let him touch you.”

You opened your mouth, but before you could say anything, he added, “I wanna touch you too. In a respectful, demure way.”

“Lando, don’t say demure.”

“Demure.” He huffed, just to spite you, swinging his legs where he sat on the counter like a child. “I’m just saying, I’ve been waiting in line longer, and I didn’t even get to do my elevator pitch yet—”

You cut him off, cupping his face and tilting it up before kissing him. Just to shut him up.

Lando melted instantly, hands fisting the fabric of your dress as he tried to pull you even closer, as if you weren’t already pressed against him.

When you finally pulled back, you smirked. “You owe me… I don’t know what yet. But you lost the bet. I kissed you.”

Lando just stared up at you, dazed—his smile completely wiped away, lips parted, eyes flickering to your lips again.

It was like you had just fried his last brain cell.

[moody-alcoholic]

This Is Going To Hurt

Part 2 - There's Pleasure In Pain

Summary: Poly141 x reader, established relationship, medic reader, kidnapped reader, mini fic.

CW: Dead dove don’t eat, mentions of torture, suicidal thoughts, childbirth, blood, medical stuff, medical inaccuracies.

AN: Yes I know about the show 'this is going to hurt' I haven't seen it but from what I do know it's good so check it out. Also as an aspiring midwife this was so fun to write.

Part 1 - next

Enjoy <3

You don't know how long it’s been. 

Hours? A day? 

More people have questioned you, with new questions.

‘Where was the convoy heading?’

‘Who give you the intel.’

‘What are the Americans up to?’

Some of the questions you don’t even know the answers to. Makes it all the more easier to ignore them. It feels relentless, like it’s never going to stop. Death would be easier. 

You remember one of the first things you were told in training, a dead medic is no use to anyone. You remember once during a training exercise you ignored Price’s order to fall back, instead you ran into the field to pull someone out. 

It was the angriest you’d seen Price get. He screamed at you in front of everyone, chewed you out with the entire platoon watching. That was the night he told you he loved you, they all did. You’d never seen them get so emotional before, especially over a training exercise. 

‘You’re not allowed to put yourself in danger like we do. You need to keep us alive, and we’ll keep you alive.’ You remember John saying that, the way he apologised for screaming at you even though he was in the right. The sex that night was amazing. 

It makes you smile thinking about them. You’ve been thinking about them alot when you’re not being tortured. You have to assume they’re not coming for you, that's what you were taught. If you’re ever captured; don’t talk, don’t trade, don’t let them break you. Not that you have a choice over the last part, it’s all a test of willpower. 

You wonder how long it will be before they break you. You can handle the waterboarding to some extent, these people are evil though, terrorists, the worst of the worst. They don’t care about human rights, they’re not answering to any UN or even their own countries' laws. These people could do whatever they wanted to you and there is nothing you can do.

You secretly hope they’re coming for you, you’d like to imagine Simon and John tearing up buildings to find you, breaking the rules and hunting down every last person who laid a finger on you. They’re soldiers though, they have orders to follow, other people’s lives are at stake not just yours. 

You’re a liability now. They have no way of knowing what’s happening to you, if you’ve talked or where you are. You hope they know deep down you’ll keep your mouth shut. You’ll keep them safe, even if it is from a distance. 

The door to your room opens and you stand. A man walks in and grips your arm tight. You’ve stopped struggling, there’s no point. He walks you past the room you’re usually taken to, it makes your stomach drop. Somethings wrong, something’s changed. Maybe this is it and they’re going to kill you. 

You hear a woman scream, you dig your heels into the ground. The man says something in Arabic then continues to drag you along. This is bad, there is no way this ends well. You can still hear the woman screaming. Maybe they have someone else they’re torturing. He stops you outside a door and knocks. 

A few seconds later it opens. A man is standing there, he looks young, even with the beard, he’s the only person you’ve seen without his face covered. You hear a woman groan, he moves to the side and you see a woman bent over a table with another woman rubbing her back. 

You’re still taking in the scene when the man in front of you says something then pulls you into the room. The door is closed behind you, you look at him confused. 

“Do you know how to deliver a baby?” He asks, you recognise the accent. He’s the person who patched up your arm. 

“Do I look like I know how to deliver a baby?” 

“No, but you’re a woman and a medic.” He says “She’s Khaled's wife. If this baby dies he’ll kill me.” 

“Great, he's not going to like it if I kill her.” You scoff. This can’t be happening. 

“You’re dead anyway.” He says, it’s like a knife to the heart. Now you want to help even less. The other woman rubbing her back asks something in Arabic. 

“She’s been in labor for 13 hours, I think something is wrong, she’s not progressing.” The man asks. 

“Then take her to a hospital. I don’t know how to do this, I don’t even know where to start.” You say holding your hands up. The woman screams again and it makes your head ring. You look round the room, there’s a bed and some basic supplies but not much. 

The man goes over to a book he has laid out on the bed and brings it over. To your surprise it’s in english. 

“This is all I have, I’ve done everything so far.” You scan over the book and turn the page, you see diagrams of anatomy and pictures of a vaginal birth. You try to think of anything you know that could help. You’ve seen documentaries, you’ve learnt some things, you close your eyes for a second pinching the bridge of your nose. 

“Okay. Get her on the bed.” You say looking over at her. The man orders the women around, as she moves you see supplies on the table. You go over looking for gloves.

“Do you have anything sterile?” You ask, turning to look at him. He shakes his head.

“My bag, you must have taken it when you kidnapped me. It has sterile supplies in it.”

“We’ve used it already.” He says.

“All of it?” You ask shocked. There were enough supplies in there to last at least a week. 

“We needed the supplies.” He says. You sigh pulling on some gloves. What you have will just need to do. You go over to the bed and he follows, the woman's laid back hair is stuck to her face as her friend grips her hand and whispers at her in arabic. 

You let the adrenaline calm you, you ground yourself before you sit on the end of the bad. She looks down at you and grits her teeth through the contraction. Shit, you should be counting them right the time between them. You don’t have a watch you start counting in your head. 

“Do you know how far apart the contractions are?” You ask. He asks the woman who replies. 

“2 minutes sometimes 5 minutes.” He says. That’s good right? Means she might be ready to push soon.

“Has she had a baby before?” You ask. 

“This is her 6th.” 

“6th?” You turn back to look at him. You’re not sure what to do with that info though, Does that make her more or less of a high risk. At least she probably knows what to do by now, she probably knows more than you. 

“Can you ask her to pull her legs up. I need to check internally.” He talks and she nods, her friend helping her get comfortable - well as comfortable as she can be. You’re not sure you’ll be able to tell how dilated she is, it’s more to check if everything feels right. Although, you’re not sure what the vagina of a woman in labor is supposed to feel like. 

You smile at her, you have to be confident, she needs to have faith in you. You’re trying to be as gentle as you can, you doubt she’s had any pain relief. You don’t envy her right now, going through labor for 13 hours like this, in this heat, you do feel sorry for her. 

“I can feel the head.” You say, it gives you a boost of confidence. “Can you ask her if she’s had any urges to push?” 

You look over at her as she nods. You pull your hand out, you look down at blood on your fingers, your stomach sinks. 

“Is that bad?” The man asks looking over.

“I don’t think it’s fresh. It could be normal, she is pushing a baby out.” You say taking the gloves off. You walk over to the table to grab a towel and he joins you.

“What should we be worried about?” He asks in a low voice even though you don’t think the women can speak English. We, there's no we, it makes a lump form in your throat.

“Hemorrhage. I’m assuming you don’t have blood.” You say, he shakes his head. So that's a death sentence. 

“The cord could wrap around the baby's neck.” He says. That could be happening right now and you have no way of knowing. You turn back to look at her. There’s no way to monitor the baby right now, you have no idea if it’s in distress and that could be why the labor is taking so long. 

“If she’s having urges to push, maybe she could try?” You say. 

“What if that makes things worse?” 

“I don’t know you’re not exactly set up for a cesarean.” You say. He sighs, you can tell he’s nervous. You should be nervous but you think the surge of adrenaline is keeping you going. Besides, what's the worst that could happen to you? They kill you? They’re probably planning on that anyway. 

There’s a knock at the door and the man goes over to answer it. You watch him out of the corner of your eye hearing him talk. You look back down at the tools. You pick up another pair of gloves and a towel and go back over to the bed. 

You lay the towel out and pull the gloves on as the door closes and he comes back over to you.

“Have you ever done CPR on a baby before?” You ask him. Prepare for the worst, hope for the best.

“Only in practice.” You turn looking up at him confused. “I’m a doctor, well I was training to be one.” 

“You should be doing this, not me.” You scoff shaking your head

“I wanted to be a neurologist.” He says, you sigh, you don’t care, you’re mad he didn’t tell you. 

“Do you have something to clamp the cord with?” You ask looking over at him, he goes over to the table and comes back with an actual clamp. You take it from him and place it on the bed. The woman groans again and you look over at her.  

“Tell her we’re going to try pushing, after the next contraction.” You say getting yourself comfortable and moving her legs so they’re apart. You feel awkward all of a sudden, this is definitely not something you thought you would ever be doing, especially not here of all places, as a fucking hostage. 

You look down-holyfuckingshit. There’s the head. 

“Push, push, tell her to push.” You call as you move your body to get your hands into position. You’re not really sure what you're going to do. Support the head right? Don’t let it fall out of your hands. You’re shaking as she pushes and the head comes out. You see eyes, a nose and mouth. 

The lips are slightly blue, it makes you hold your breath. 

“Tell her keep going, she’s doing great.” You say. You need her to keep going, you need to get this baby out. As soon as the shoulders are through the rest is easy, it just flops out. You look up at her and smile as you reach over for the clamp. 

“I need another clamp.” You say, you place the baby on a towel. 

Why is it not crying? It should be crying. 

You wipe its face, nose and eyes. Cry dammit, you’ve never wanted to hear a baby cry more than anything. 

“Here.” He says handing you another clamp. You turn the baby on its side and start rubbing his back. You’ve seen people do this on TV before. 

“Come on, come on baby.” You mumble. When it cries you almost start too. You roll it on its back as its crying rings in your ears. You take the clamp out his hand. He has the scissors too, you nod at him. 

The woman is shuffling on the bed, she’s asking something. “She wants to know the sex.” the man asks. 

“B-boy. It’s a boy.” The words catch in your throat the adrenaline is wearing off now, you swallow hard you need to keep it together. Your hands shake as you cut the cord. The other woman has moved over to you holding her hands out. You nod, wrapping the baby and handing it to her.

You hear a knock on the door and the doctor leaves you. Or you guess he’s not really a doctor. You look back down between her legs. You’re not sure what to do now, you’ll have to wait for the after birth right? 

She’s not bleeding out though, that’s a good thing. You’re taking your gloves off looking over at the woman stroking her baby's head. You let yourself smile, holy shit you just delivered a baby. Johnny would love to hear about that. Your smile fades as you remember where you are. 

“They want to take you back.” The doctor says as he comes over to you. You nod looking at the person standing at the door. As you get up the woman calls out for you saying something in Arabic. You look over at the doctor. 

“She says thank you. And she hopes you have a safe journey home.” He looks away from you. You turn and smile at her nodding your head. 

“Congratulations.” You say and go over to the door. 

“Oh by the way.” You say turning back to him. “The placenta, when it comes, make sure it’s complete.” 

“How will I know if it’s complete?” He asks. 

“Maybe there’ll be something in the book.” You say shrugging. He nods as the man in the door reaches out, gripping your arm and pulling you out. 

___

The door to your cell opens. You watch as the doctor comes in carrying a plate of food and a bottle of water. Suddenly your stomach grumbles and your lips smack together as you realise how dry your mouth is. 

He sets them down on the slab of concrete you think is supposed to be a bed. You look over on the plate, there’s flatbread and what looks like hummus. You don’t care what it is, you’re so hungry you’ll eat anything. 

You look back over at him, if you eat you’re breaking down your defences, gathering your strength just so they can torture you more. You are so hungry though, the weaker you get the more likely you are to give up intel you know you shouldn’t. 

“It’s not poisoned or anything.” He says you look over at him, you hadn't even thought about that. 

“How’s the baby?” 

“Good, they’re both good.” He says leaning against the door. 

“Where did you study?” You ask. 

“America, Princeton university.” He says. 

“Fuck me, and you chose to come here?” You scoff. He doesn’t reply, pressing his lips together. 

“You should eat, you might not get another chance. They won’t leave the plate in here.” He says nodding at the food.

“What? I deliver your leader's son and I get some hummus?” You spit at him, you want the food less now. 

“Better than letting you starve.” He says. Starvation would be a pretty horrible way to die. You shuffle over to the plate, opening the water bottle first and trying not to drink it down so fast. You can’t help it though, you don’t even care that it’s warm, it feels like you haven’t had a drink in weeks. 

When you’re done you put it back down letting out  breath. You pick up one of the flatbreads and pull some off dipping it into the hummus. 

“Why’d you leave America?” You ask. 

“I couldn’t stand it. I thought it was the way to a better life. Then I saw all the abominations, I had to leave.” He says, you raise an eyebrow at him. 

“Why are you here fighting in a war that isn’t yours to fight?” He asks, theres hostility in his voice. 

“You keep blowing shit up in our country.” You say as you dip more bread. 

“You’re special forces or something aren’t you?” It makes you stop chewing, you look up at him. 

“I’m a medic.” You say.

“No ones ever lasted through torture the way you do. Most of them give up after a few hours, or a day.” He says. So it’s been longer than a day, you don’t know if you should be glad or not. It’s been over 24 hours and they still haven't come. 

You look down at the food, suddenly it’s sitting heavy in your stomach. You remember the feeling of ingesting all the water and the feeling of it coming back out when your stomach’s full. You put the bread down and push the plate away. 

“My name is Sayyid.” He says bending down to pick up the plate. 

"I'm not going to tell you my name." You say. He nods pressing his lips together.

"Good luck" He says, nodding and leaving the room. You don't need luck, you need to get the hell out of here.

___

The car ride went in silence. No witty remarks from Johnny. There’s no filling the deafening silence, the only noise is coming from the engine and the wheels turning on the dirt roads. 

48 hours that's how much time Lawell could realistically buy them, if Shepherd was going to send shadows after them they have to move quick. Ghost pulls the car up to the building. 

This is the closest they can get to the next town without being spotted, there's an al-qatala base there. That’s where they’ll get intel, that's where they’ll find out where you are. It’s too late now though, the journey to get here was long. 

“Gaz, Soap clear the place, we’ll wait here.” Price says as Ghost turns the engine off. There’s no reply, just the sound of doors opening and closing. Price watches them walk round the car and over to the front door. The building will be empty, as soon as they’ve confirmed that though, they can hide the car. 

“I shouldn't have put her at the back.” Price says as he watches Gaz and Soap enter the building. 

“It was the right call.” Ghost replies. Price sighs, yeah it was, he didn’t expect things to go so wrong though. Ghost's hand lands on his thigh, he looks over at him. He can see the softness in his eyes. 

“We’ll get her back, John.” 

“I know, I just hope we’re not too late.” 

next

Banners by plum98

[complete-clownery]

some fun facts about this whole picture

(also just because I share all of this with you guys, nothing is set in stone, if you have your own theories that's the coolest thing ever!!! Share them with me please!!)

🍜Some of y'all said that Macaque was sitting alone but believe me just because Bai He turned around to chat with MK and Mei she is only there because Macaque came and Macaque is only there because Bai He bagged him to tag along,

THEY COME IN A PAIR DO NOT SEPARATE IN GROUP PICTURES!!!

🍜 You might have noticed that some of the chopstick holders and sauce holders have stickers on them. Those were put there by MK. He first did it when he was much younger to help decorate the shop because he overheard a convo between Tang and Pigsy discussing renovation and finances - it was a whole thing - Pigsy even got mad at MK, but they figure it out eventually and nowadays when the stickers get too worn MK replaces them with new ones

🍜 Mei is showing Bai He a puppy video you can hardly see it

🍜 Mei hardly even touches Red Son in the illustration, Red Son is just completely distraught by the idea of being so close to someone. (He's very embarrassed they might be blushing a bit too (I just went able to draw that properly lol))

🍜MK is sitting on outside of the boot because he keeps on getting up and helping pigsy around (it's not even conscious anymore, whenever they sit down with the others he sits somewhere, where he can easily get up to land a hand to Pigsy (or to anyone))

🍜 Yeeah Yeah okay,,, I know there is a shadowpeach shaped question in the room bugging your minds like: omg clownery is it on purpose that they are the only characters that we can't see the faces of???

And my answer to that is: I made this drawing on a whim, I started drawing it purely to mess around with perspective and expected to give up halfway bc it looked ass, I could have hardly given it any deeper meaning or thought. How could've I possibly planned anything? The core elements of this picture are all managed to get made up while I was drawing it...

Except from this one ;]

See when I sat down and got an idea about a group picture I wanted to differentiate the celestial monkeys (excluding MK) from the main group

This picture takes place some time after season 3 and a bit before season 4. I would like to say that Wukong and Macaque are not a part of this group. Especially in season 3 both of them have done terrible shit and regardless of where they're sitting and what they are doing, they're not part of it all.

For Macaque this is pretty easily illustrated, he is the one who stands out the most, not a lot of people want him there since they did try to kill members of the group even if he was under the influence of LBD. He's at a different table MK invited them bc MK genuinely wants to be friend Macaque, but this was already stated: Bai He wants Macaque to be there - I have a lot of head canons about their relationship but I'm not going to talk about this here cuz this rant might get even longer - but Bai He at first was scared as fuck with Wukong around, she only felt better when Macaque was there. She has gotten better since then, as you can see she's pretty comfortable with MK and Mei (even Red Son surprisingly), but she still needs Macaque there.

Making Wukong stand out and look isolated is a bit more tricky... He's in the group seemingly chatting with Sandy, he's there part of the whole thing, but there are subtle hints about his environment and body language you might notice:

Well for once he is turned away from the pov, we cant see his face already distancing him from you guys the viewers.

His body language is also closed off, arms crossed, legs just next to each other tightly, he's not comfortable, he's somewhere else, Sandy is there but his talking at Wukong rather than talking to him.

Also It has been made pretty evident in the show that Wukong loves eating right? If he was perfectly comfortable and at ease he would at least have 3 bowls of noodles yet he barely touched anything, he's not eating.

I mean he almost got Mei killed and the whole plan screwed since he was unwilling to cooperate and share his plans with the others. I like to think that Mei just straight up ignored him for a while,, same with pigsy,, those two had enough of Wukongs past getting MK in trouble, they do not like him (and them being so buddy buddy with him in later seasons is annoying af to me,,, maybe season 5 gets some form of pass, because more time has passed and Wukongs actions in season 4 were considerably better, but they were waaaaay too comfortable with him at season 5,,, it bugged me a lot)

I think they're also very aware of each other's presence (I have a whole au that plays between season 3 and 4 explaining how Macaque started living on the FFM with Wukong, so in that context,,,, damn they are having a BLAST especially Macaque, he would like to be anywhere but near Wukong :] )

🍜Also they're sitting away from each other as far away as possible, and (this was not planned and got pointed out by one of my friends) Wukong is sitting closest to the sun and Macaque is the one who is in the shade the most

Sorry about the big monkey rant, I am just so extremely shadowpeach pilled that it distracts my brain form everything else

And once again: I tell all this stuff to you guys, but feel free to come up with your own theories about the illustration, details, backstories, whatever you have in mind. You guys have different interpretations makes it all the more fun!!

Please share your theories with me in the comments I would love to hear them 🍎🍊🍊

I'll edit this if I have more ideas 💡

Wow okay

[sailoryuns]

INAMORATA ─── PSH

genre. idol!sunghoon x model!f!reader | established relationship

warnings. angst, fluff (moreso towards the end), smut, accusations of cheating, hoon being lowkey toxic, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, some mentions of crying, not proofread wc -> 1.5k

ps. the position i’m referring to is this (nsfw link), i usually hate vids but this was rly good imo.

“i think we should take a break...” you admit, voice growing shakier as you spoke. this was never something you wish to say in a million years, you wanted this relationship to work more than anything. but you were at your wits end with everything, talking to sunghoon was like conversing with the wall, never fully grasping any of your concerns.

you noticed the cracks beginning to seep in the midst of six months of being with him. he would often be dishonest of his whereabouts, saying he was out late due to “work” but was actually out drinking at some bar with jake or something. it made no sense for him to lie about such trivial things but he does it without even thinking. this was supposed to be a lovely vacation in paris together but lately you’ve grown tired of feeling like you’re unappreciated. a break from each other might be the best solution in getting his act together once and for all.

sunghoon felt his whole body turn limp as you uttered those words. not only was he blindsided by your decision, but you never indicated before to him that you were ready to propose such a drastic idea. “but why though? don’t you think this is a bit random? i mean this came out of nowhere y/n, i thought everything was good between us, why are you suddenly saying this now?” his thick, bushy brows furrowed in confusion, he wasn’t letting you off this easy and you know it.

“i just think it’s for the better right now hoon, we’re both so busy. we have a lot on our plate, especially you… and this relationship is just— it’s only putting more strain on everythi-”

“are you serious y/n? do you hear yourself? i knew what i was getting myself into the day i asked you to be my girlfriend. i’m well aware that i can’t be with you 24/7, and neither can you—however, i don’t expect that anyway. all i ever wanted was to have you by my side, i want to work through the hardships with you but if you’re so willing to give up like this then… i don’t know. i don’t even know what to say to this honestly..” sunghoon couldn’t help but cut you off, once his emotions take over, all sense of logic and reasoning is thrown out the window.

he was never one to question his worth in the eyes of his partner, but you were his longest relationship, he saw you as his first and only true love. it never occurred to him that he could lose you, the possibility of this break lasting long enough to make your love fade away was a scary revelation. there had to be a way he could fix this, he couldn’t bear to be without you.

“are you seeing someone else? maybe that’s why you’ve been so distant towards me lately…” he wanted to scream for saying that out loud but at least he got it off his chest. he knows how petty it sounds but he didn’t care, he wanted you to give him answers.

“no! i’m not seeing other people, i don’t have an interest in anyone but you sunghoon. i want to do this for the sake of us, we’re clearly not where we need to be and this break could help with getting us back on track and spending time apart could be beneficial.” you try your best to articulate your words properly but he remained unconvinced, he wasn’t on board with any bit of this.

how could you even be okay with something like this? spending time away from you drove him absolutely insane, he couldn’t fathom taking a break—not from someone as important as you in his life. he just needed to remind you that the love was still there, though it may be but a dull flame, he could ignite the spark again, with the little bit of hope he had left.

the foundation of your relationship was built from shared interests, since you both are part of professions that rely heavily on looks, you refused to see each other based solely off those superficial aspects. instead you got to know each other’s minds, your core values and beliefs, what mattered to you the most. you cherished every one of those deep conversations you shared together, it was a beautiful experience, an indescribable memory that shaped your bond forever.

so why is it now that you feel this way? was he really that oblivious to everything? he should’ve done more to prevent this but now he fears it’s too late. he’s faced with the conundrum of losing you and there wasn’t much time for him to stall or ask for a chance of redemption, he couldn’t waste another second.

“fuck that,” sunghoon angrily spat, his face contorting into a look of pure disgust. “you’re not going anywhere.” he reaches out to grab your waist before you could walk away, aggressively pulling you into his chest.

no matter how much you attempt to escape his hold, he’s not letting you go in the slightest. he’s much stronger than you, could easily lift you up without breaking a sweat. there was no use in fighting, you had no choice but to give in and let this conversation go. once his lips crashed into yours, everything faded to black. as if a simple kiss was the cure-all of mending this decrepit relationship.

sunghoon’s forehead pressed against yours as he pulled away, “shhh, lye down baby,” he hushes your quiet mewls, instructing you to do as he says. “gonna make you feel so good,” his hands slid under your skirt, gently rubbing over your clothed core “you’ll forget everything.”

* :.･ﾟﾟ･ ✿

“oh my- fuckk, sunghoon!” you cry out, almost on the verge of tears just from how skilled he is, rutting your hips upwards into his mouth as he devours you whole.

the pace of his tongue is relentless, roughly lapping up all your juices like he’s the most starved man alive. you’ve lost count at the amount of times he’s already made you come undone just from his mouth alone. your body’s buzzing with titillation, all you can do is scream and clench your pussy around nothing while he fiercely sucks on your clit.

you couldn’t stop twitching, feeling yet another orgasm approaching. your legs anchored over his shoulders, unable to think or speak coherent sentences as his face was fully buried into your sloppy cunt. he relaxes his jaw a bit more, going all the way from the bottom inching further up as he comes back in contact with your puffy clit. at any given moment it feels as if your heart’s about to stop.

“hoon-” your heads thrown back into the pillow, digging your nails into his shoulder blades from how overly sensitive you are. “n-need to cum.. can feel it. m’so close.” it surprises you when you’re able to even express such words.

a low grunt can be heard underneath, sunghoon loves hearing you— it’s arguably the best part about going down on you. the hand that wasn’t occupied went straight to gripping a fistful of his ebony hair, continuously moaning his name so loud that you genuinely feel bad for whomever the unlucky people that got to hear this.

just when you thought it couldn’t get anymore intense, he slips 2 of his slender fingers inside, making you gasp from the overwhelming sensation. flashes of white invade your vision, violently shaking as your lips form an “o” in the throes of ecstasy. sunghoon knows your body so well that this is nothing for him, he’s got it all down to a simple science. no one knows your body like he does, and especially no one can make you cum as hard as he can.

“go ahead, make a mess for me baby,” he strongly encourages, picking up his pace as his digits fuck into you faster. “just gonna clean it up with my tongue all over again.”

your eyes roll back to the depths of oblivion, feeling an out of body experience when reaching your climax. a string of curses leaves your shaky breath, limbs trembling and faint tears stain your flushed cheeks. sunghoon slows his movements, rubbing his thumb over your clit gently to make you even more sensitive. you love the way he calls you “good girl” and how proud the look on his face becomes while you ride out your orgasm on his fingers. he doesn’t stop showering you with compliments, only ramping up his affection as he plants fleeting kisses to your thighs, hips, and stomach.

once he’s finally come back up for air you grab his face to pull him into your lips again. moaning in his mouth while getting a taste of yourself was probably the hottest thing sunghoon’s ever witnessed.

“can’t believe this is all mine.” sunghoon whispers against you, gently massaging your aching thighs. “i love you so much, baby.”

“love you too hoon.” you instantly say back, feeling more at ease now that things are somewhat back to normal.

maybe a break isn’t necessary after all, how else would you be able to have such earth shattering orgasms?

- 完 ♡︎

[bbyg4rl]

gentle love

cw: flangst, argument, happy ending !

summary: a heated argument leaves you and JJ reeling.

a/n: you can assume this is after the topper thing in s1 but its not really specific so it can be at any point in time! im having such a bad day need him so bad :/

JJ had never known love like yours. He had never known love that was gentle, a love so soft it wrapped around him like warmth. A love so nurturing, it could sustain him more than food ever could.

You were his own slice of heaven—his safe space. The one thing that could restore him when the world knocked him down.

He reveled in the way you looked at him—like he was the only boy in the world, the only one that mattered. The way your eyes softened and your lips curved into a smile in his presence sent a spark through him he couldn’t explain. Being with you was the best feeling in the world. He loved knowing you were his, and even more, that he was yours.

But like all beautiful things, your relationship had its struggles too. JJ wasn’t one for communication. When something overwhelmed him, he’d turn tail and run—usually straight into your arms. But when it was you who stirred those feelings in him, he was lost, unsure where to go or what to do.

All couples fight—it’s normal. Not everyone can get along all the time, right?

The argument started like any other. You were angry at him for getting into a fight with some random Kook, and he brushed it off, insisting he was fine and that you didn’t need to worry. But this time was different. This time, it wasn’t just a fight—he had pulled a gun on someone.

Normally, you would have talked him through his anger, calmed him down like you always did. But the weight of exam stress had made you sharper, less patient, and he didn’t take it well.

Blunt words were exchanged, tempers flared. His frustration boiled over as he snapped, “You never understand me.” His voice was raw, edged with something almost desperate. Then, quieter, almost to himself, he muttered, “Maybe this just isn’t working anymore.”

Before you could respond, before the weight of his words could fully sink in, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Tears welled in your eyes as you collapsed onto the floor, clutching your knees as waves of pain rippled through your chest. You had never fought with JJ like this before.

Your fingers found the necklace around your throat, trembling as you rubbed your thumb frantically over the J-initial locket. What did he mean by that? His words echoed in your mind like a broken record, each repetition cutting deeper.

Did this mean you had to take the necklace off? That you had lost him? The questions swirled in your head, suffocating you as you sobbed against the cold bedroom floor.

Eventually, the exhaustion, the heartbreak, and the sheer weight of it all pulled you under, dragging you into unconsciousness.

You're only woken up by JJ's calloused hands gently cupping your jaw, pulling you into him. Blinking up at him, you find tears streaming down his face, his expression shattered with guilt. His breath trembles, and then—a wrecked sob escapes him, your name breaking apart on his lips.

You assume he let himself in through the window, just like he had countless times before. A quick glance at the clock tells you it’s been an hour since he left—an hour that felt like an eternity.

Looking back at him, you pull him close, a mix of relief and heartbreak crashing over you. He wraps you in a tight embrace, arms locking around you as if afraid you might slip away. His grip is desperate, unyielding—like he’s holding on for dear life.

You sit in silence, finding comfort in each other’s arms as your breathing slows, your hearts steadying together. The quiet wraps around you like a fragile truce until, finally, his voice cuts through it.

"I’m sorry."

"I'm sorry too" you whisper back, your voice barely above a breath. You know he was only doing what he could in the circumstances he was trapped in.

"I should've let you explain before I snapped at you." You look up at him, a pang of guilt striking your heart as the words leave your lips.

"It's alright," he murmurs, his southern drawl soft, almost sheepish. "I shouldn't have yelled at ya either. I was bein’ a dick."

You both settle back into silence, the weight of unspoken emotions lingering between you. Then, his voice breaks through again.

"I hope you know I’ll never leave your side. Whatever I said before... I was just angry. I didn’t mean it."

His words tumble out in a rush, his tone almost frantic—like he’s trying to take his previous words back, like he’s just stepped on a puppy’s tail and is desperate to make it right.

You press your palm against his chest, feeling the rapid thrum of his heart as he apologizes. It’s a silent gesture—one that tells him you believe him, that you accept his apology without needing to say a word.

"I could get rid of the gun if you want me to" he murmurs softly against your temple. "You mean more to me than a piece of metal."

"No, it’s okay. Keep it. Just… don’t get into trouble." Your voice is quiet but firm, a stern edge creeping in.

He nods without argument, pulling you closer, his arms tightening around you. Then, with a sigh, he buries himself in the crook of your neck, as if that’s the only place he truly feels safe.

You turn your head, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. "Please don’t ever tell me you’d leave me again," you whisper, your voice trembling, fragile with fear.

He lifts his gaze to yours, guilt pooling in his eyes. "Never" he vows before pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

Then, without a word, he reaches for the ring on his pinky finger, sliding it off effortlessly. He gestures for your hand, taking it in his own as he carefully slips the small ring onto your finger.

"Never again." he murmurs, a silent promise, a quiet commitment to never hurt you.

You cradle his face in your hands, pulling him into a slow, lingering kiss—deep and unhurried, saying everything words couldn’t. He was yours, and you were his. That was all that mattered.

Entwined in each other’s arms, you stay on the floor, neither willing to let go. The bed is forgotten, lost in the warmth of his touch and the quiet intensity that lingers between you.

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[seasidefallenangel]

she's got those evil eyes

bllk boys and their mean girlfriends ft isagi yoichi, itoshi sae, reo mikage, alexis ness, bachira meguru

notes: reader is a BITCH! (not to the boys), actual horrible shit being said by reader but our boys are too in love to notice or care, suicide mentions, i'm not condoning what reader does the point is that they're feral

�� isagi:

✣ you’re his precious angel who can do no wrong, so of course he’s defending you tooth and nail. when you’re at his games flipping off the opposite team he thinks you’re too adorable for words. during practice, kaiser is ragging on him as usual and you’re there before isagi can blink, telling kaiser that no wonder his dad hit him with a shitty personality like that. insanely harsh, but you’re so cute to have his back!

⁀➷ “you need to stop getting yourself hurt like this, princess,” isagi murmurs as he gently applies an antiseptic to your knuckles. he wasn’t expecting you to punch rin in the face after some off-handed comment during practice (mostly stemming from rin’s own insecurities, but you’re not tolerating any disrespect towards your man.) isagi had stepped in right as rin was about to retaliate and you had gotten kicked off the field anyway, leading to the impromptu patch-up in the locker room. 

with a final piece of medical tape, he kisses your bruised hand and smiles softly at you, cupping your cheek in his palm. “thank you for being my knight in shining armor, baby,” he says gently, all the love in the world filling his voice. maybe you’re not the most ethical about it, but your desire to protect him more than makes up for it in his eyes.

༄ sae:

✣ always assumes you’re correct in every single situation. he looks to be nonchalant about your dating life, but he is easily your number one shooter. you’re on twitter telling his fans to kill themselves when they talk about how attractive he is or how he should break up with you and he’s in the kitchen smirking at his phone watching you go to war. never once in his life has he ever gave a shit about what people think about him, but the second something about you is viewed in a negative light? all bets are off. he’ll get just as toxic as you are.

⁀➷ the reporters are crowding him the second he’s getting off the plane. he already knows exactly what it’s about yet it still pisses him off. in his opinion, people are at fault for provoking you in the first place. in an irritating attempt to get his attention, one of the interviewers calls out, “sae! what do you have to say about your girlfriend tweeting ‘if i was your mom i would’ve killed myself too’ to one of your fans?!” 

yeah, he saw that one, and he thought it was funny. someone had been trying to rile you up by saying how re ai would be better off without sae on the team. unfortunately for them, they had “rip mom🩵🕊️” in their bio, giving you the perfect ammo to shoot back with. he clears his throat and simply says, “she’s right,” before walking off, leaving the paparazzi stunned.

༄ reo:

✣ you are so awful for the mikage image and reo loves every second of it. having such a stagnant and pre-planned upbringing versus your unhinged nature was just what he needed. barely a week can go by without you trending online for something heinous you said or did. in turn, you have quite a large following for simply how funny your antics and toxicity towards others is. reo must have the most heavily tinted rose colored glasses ever, because he always talks about how sweet and kind you are. the fans are still searching for the person he’s trying to describe, because it sure as hell isn’t you.

⁀➷ you’re lounging in bed, mindlessly scrolling on your phone when reo approaches you. like clockwork, you shift into his arms as he climbs into bed and relaxes next to you. his fingers are running through your hair when he finally asks in the most soft and gentle voice, “my love, why are you being called out on twitter again?” of course, you’re always sure to voice how it isn’t really your fault and that people should stop pissing you off if they don’t want you to come for their necks. 

quite honestly, he’s not really listening ; not because he’s not interested, but because you’re just irresistible when you defend yourself. regardless of whether or not you’re actually at fault (you are), he still sees you as his precious and adorable lover. he simply nods and leaves feather light kisses up and down the side of your neck, mumbling something like, “how dare they?” or “you’re so smart, angel,” every so often. if you ever were to get in any real trouble, the mikage fortune would be there to bail you out - so he sees no real reason to stop your tirades. 

༄ alexis:

✣ “me and my girl don’t argue she tells me to shut up and i do.” ness is honestly thankful for how much of a raging bitch you can be. not only does he never see anything wrong with it, but actively encourages it as well. you’re cussing out the mcdonald’s worker for putting pickles on his burger while he’s behind you with a dopey smile on his face, clinging to you like a lifeline. the only time he had to tug you away is when you were half a second away from clawing kaiser’s eyes out and had his neck bruising beneath your fingers for insinuating ness was more of a dog than a person. the german is still terrified whenever you accompany your boyfriend to practice.

⁀➷ in all the plans alexis had for his future, standing in front of the two people that crushed his childhood fantasies in facts and testing wasn’t one of them. he had left on a bitter note when he joined bastard münchen yet hadn’t found the courage to voice his true feelings on the matter. luckily for him, you had no shortage of guts to lay into his parents without fear.

for the first time in their lives, they’re stunned silent at your vicious words and mockery of their profession, upbringing, parenting, even going so far as to point out his mother’s physical imperfections and saying the only worthwhile thing she did was give birth a child that wasn’t nearly as ugly as she is. they can’t even get a word in before you grab alexis’ hand and drag him out, kicking a dent in his father’s car for good measure. even though your display was nothing short of pure evil, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt closer to god than when you cradle him in your hold, whispering words of love and praise into his ear. being a crybaby was something he was told he should be ashamed of, but the sensation left behind when you wipe his grateful tears is worth it to him.

༄ bachira:

✣ might honestly be the biggest enabler on this entire list along with alexis. he absolutely lives for chaos plus he’s too sickeningly in love with you to ever question a move you might make. he can hear you arguing with ego on the phone about bachira being overworked and while normally nothing phases blue lock’s director, the death threats you sent to his office were incredibly convincing and contained information that should’ve been impossible to obtain. he’d probably hire you if he wasn’t positive you’d pipe bomb the entire structure if anyone even gave a dirty look to your boyfriend. 

⁀➷  “whatcha doiiiinnnn?” bachira asks while plopping on top of the couch - in the exact spot while you were resting, mind you. you let out a light ‘oof!’ as his weight crushes you for a moment before leveling out. the second his head falls to rest on your stomach, you're carding one hand through his hair while the other angrily taps on your phone. he doesn’t really think to ask as he’s on the verge of falling asleep, but the sound he has set for your tweets dings from his phone (because of course he has notifications for you on.)

he lazily unlocks his phone and clicks onto the app only to bust out into laughter. whatever useless no-name had decided to say bachira’s playstyle only hinders his teammates was met with your quote retweet stating to ‘go take a long walk off a short bridge.’ in his overly happy splendor, he blows raspberries onto the soft skin of your tummy while you squeal and try to push him off. stubborn as he is he just refuses to let up until you're curled up in laughter. behind his silliness, he’s eternally grateful to have someone so devoted to him after years of isolation from his peers. he can’t help but think he’d do anything to keep you in his grasp - regardless of the consequences that might follow.

[shyrusstone]

Adding onto this. Rant incoming.

I have always been described as "bubbly" and "cheerful" my whole life. Anyone who interacted with me outside my sibling circle thought "she hasn't been through anything before. She has the light in her eyes. She's so happy all the time!"

One day, for (almost) the first time, I found a PCP. I went for stomach pains that were worrying me.

I also, struggled with anxiety. So I thought I'd offhandedly mention, "hey also I have some anxiety. Is that something we can talk about?"

The moment I said it I began to cry.

He took me seriously, and offered for me to see the therapist they had in the building on the spot.

I had a brief talk with her, scheduled an appointment, and went.

I was so anxious. I told her everything that was currently stressing me out and I cried so hard I gave myself a migraine. This meeting was to just cover the basics, I wasn't supposed to go into all those details yet but it just came out. My therapist was a lovely person who saw me and stopped filling out the paper so she could talk me through it immediatley. She asked if she could share this with the doctor to get me some medication. I said yes.

He came into the room after being told of my situation and said what I have heard everytime someone hears what I've been through.

"I would have never even guessed you were going through all that. I met you and you were so warm and bubbly. I'm so sorry"

He then said "I'm going to prescribe you two medications right away and I want to see you in a week. If you have any problems don't worry about making an appointment. Just show up and I'll take you."

Through therapy and medication, I have noticed a *monumental* change in my life.

I'm eating better, I'm exercising, I'm remembering to do things I usually forget and I'm way more focused on things.

I'm not having breakdowns each week at work in the break room, or being too anxious to talk to employees.

I'm not thinking about waking up to a dead family every night. I'm not worried about my parents intentionally poisoning my food.

I don't ruminate on the many near death experiences in my family. I dont tense up when someone coughs in my house.

I don't flinch at every single sound, I don't cry if a loud sound goes off unexpectedly. I don't cry when someone yells at me.

I don't stop what I'm doing to pay attention to which way the emergency vehicles go.

But!

I am still me.

I am still a warm and bubbly person, who will love little things and joke around and buy cute plushies.

I'm lucky I got the right medication right off the bat. I'm lucky to have such an *amazing* doctor who listens to me. I'm lucky to have found the *best therapist* I could have ever asked for.

But I notice when I skip a day on medication. I'm still me without it, but it's so much harder to be.

I'm at my best when I have the help I need.

90s movies: Psychopharmacology is as good as a lobotomy. If you take pills to treat your mental illness it will literally murder your imaginary friends and you will become a boring, lotus-eating conformist drone.

Me after taking my meds: drives the scenic route home to see if there are any geese on the pond and does a little dance in line at the grocery store and comes home to throw everything​ in my fridge into a stew pot because I can finally taste food again while singing songs at my birds in which I replace all the instances of "she" with "Cheese" and doing a Dolly Parton impression on the phone to my sister

[persevereforahappyending]

A Legacies Regret |8|

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You were living in New York with your girlfriend, trying to forget about last year and just enjoy life, but that was easier said than done. (Sequel to A Legacies Secret)

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.8k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | A Legacies Secret Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Tara stood at the back of an ambulance as you got checked over. You didn’t seem in too bad of shape, you actually managed to not get stabbed this time. Tara crossed her arms as she waited for you, they were surrounded by cops and ambulances, this was where she should feel the safest but given that she didn’t know who she could trust she wasn’t awarded that comfort.

Her eyes darted back and forth from Sam off to the side talking to Danny, to Chad next to the ambulance Mindy was getting patched up in. Anika had been there in her own ambulance, but the medics decided her wounds were too severe and rushed her off to the hospital. Tara wanted to think that Anika would be safe in the hospital, away from all the craziness, but she knew better than anyone that just because someone was in the hospital didn’t mean they were safe.

Tara’s attention fully snapped back to you when she overheard you thanking the medic. You slipped off the gurney and hopped out the back of the ambulance. Tara made sure to raise her hands when you landed, she didn’t know exactly what happened in the apartment, but it was clear you were hurting.

Tara wrapped an arm around your waist, partly because she wanted to help you keep more weight than necessary off your knee, but mostly because she didn’t want to let you go. Back in the apartment you didn’t even hesitate to push her behind you and towards the door, the first thing that crossed your mind in a moment of crisis wasn’t your own safety but hers. She loved that about you, she truly did, but she really needed to have a talk with you about putting yourself in danger. Tara knows you want to protect her, but she needed to put her foot down, if you were going to be all heroic and self-sacrificing then she was going to be by your side.

The two of you had only walked a few steps when Tara noticed just how much you were limping. She could feel the muscles in your back tensing up with every step. “Are you okay?” she asked. “What happened up there?”

You slowed to a stop, wincing one more time before leaning into her. You looked around as if you were afraid someone was going to overhear whatever it was you had to say. “When I tried to stop him from getting Anika, he kicked me in my knee,” you whispered, your lips brushing against her ear so only she could hear.

Tara furrowed her brow. A whole new rage was burning inside her, she couldn’t believe Ghostface did that. Well, she could, but that didn’t change the fact that if she ever got her hands on him, she would tear him apart. She looked up when she realized you were looking at her expectantly. She had a feeling she missed the point of what you said for some reason, but she wasn’t exactly sure what her takeaway was supposed to be.

“He knew I was injured,” you whispered. Tara mentally slapped herself, not many people knew about your injury, that you still struggled with it so much. That meant Ghostface was either stalking all of them and saw you or he was in the friend group and paid much more attention to everyone than anyone thought.

“Who do you think it was?” Tara asked. She herself didn’t have any ideas, everyone, besides you and Sam, was a suspect. You experienced Ghostface up close though, to close for comfort if someone were to ask Tara. If you fought him, if you got close enough then there was a chance you felt something, something to determine if he was in fact a he, or if you picked up on something like the way he moved or talked.

You opened your mouth to answer but your head snapped up just as Tara whipped around at the sound of a loud bang. Tara released a breath; it had just been Chad slamming Ethan against one of the vans. She should probably be worried about Chad’s quick response to violence but given what was going on she couldn’t say she actually cared.

She couldn’t hear exactly what was being said but it was clear Chad was questioning Ethan and accusing him of potentially being Ghostface. Tara tilted her head, she never suspecting Ethan of anything, the only reason she hung out with him was because he was Chad’s roommate. He wasn’t the worst company by any means, she was just kind of quiet and awkward, sometimes he would have good taste in movies, otherwise he was just there. She couldn’t picture Ethan as some psycho killer, but then again there was a point in time she would have said the same thing about Amber.

Ethan weakly defended himself by saying he was in his night class. Tara honestly didn’t know if he was telling the truth, she didn’t know his schedule, she didn’t even know what his major was. Ethan was insistent in his denial, he even told Chad to ask the people from his class, which could speak of his innocence, or it spoke of how cocky he was. Night classes were rather popular, she didn’t know how big Ethan’s class was but there was a high chance that if Ethan skipped class no one would even notice.

Chad gave Ethan one final shove into the van before walking back over to Mindy. Tara’s eyes lingered on Ethan as he fixed his sweatshirt and looked around at the chaos as if he were a lost puppy. If he was Ghostface he sure was doing a good job at pretending to be clueless.

Your entire body tensed underneath Tara’s touch, making her furrow her brow at what could have possibly caused such a reaction. You weren’t looking at her though, you were looking straight ahead at something else. When Tara turned to see what you were looking at, she couldn’t contain her eyeroll as she saw Gale Weathers running up to the two of you.

“Are you okay?” Gale asked, looking at you with the most concern Tara had ever seen. “I came as soon as I heard.”

“Don’t you ever give it a rest?” Tara snapped.

“I’m not here to start anything. Truce,” Gale raised her hands in defense.

“Bullshit,” Sam said, coming up behind them. “What are you doing here?”

“I want to help.” Gale’s eyes darted to you. Tara wasn’t Gale’s biggest fan by any means, but she had a feeling wanting to help catch this Ghostface wasn’t the only reason Gale was there now. “Off the record,” Gale rolled her eyes.

Sam crossed her arms and shared a look with Tara. She still didn’t want to trust Gale, especially with how she’s treated you but Gale willing to help out off the record was definitely a start. “Fine,” Sam sighed, although a little reluctantly.

Gale looked at you, as if she were waiting for you to say something. You had yet to look Gale in the eye. Tara couldn’t even imagine what was going through your head. Besides recent selfish behavior she used to be able to read you better than anyone, when she opened her eyes, it seemed to be going back to that, except when it came to Gale. You already didn’t talk about Dewey but somehow you talked about Gale even less, Tara truly wasn’t sure where your mind was in regards to Gale.

“I see my present came in handy,” Gale said, giving an awkward smile as if it would help break the ice with you.

You still didn’t look at Gale as you lightly nodded. “Yeah,” you whispered. “Thanks for that.”

Tara looked from you to Gale and then back again. Her eyes widen as she came to the realization. “That’s where the gun game from?” she shouted.

Your mouth fell open, but nothing came out. Tara could practically see your brain spinning trying to come up with an answer. When you first came out of the apartment she didn’t notice the gun, she was too busy being relieved you were alive. When she did notice the gun, she didn’t get a chance to ask about it as you were being dragged to an ambulance. She knew Gale gave you a present, but you put it under the bed and that was that, she never even knew you opened let alone that it was a gun.

“The less people that knew about it the better,” Same said.

Tara slowly turned her head to her sister. “You knew?” she turned back to you, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes. “You told her and not me?”

You began opening and closing your mouth again. “I need to stay on her good side,” you defended weakly.

Tara just gave a small hum at the reveal. She knew that if you hadn’t told Sam and Sam later discovered it, she would have been pissed. She still couldn’t believe you never even told her though; it’s not like she would have told anyone; she knew how to keep a secret. That being said, Tara also couldn’t say you were wrong in keeping the gun a secret, no one else knowing was probably why you were able to catch Ghostface off guard. If the others had known she was sure you’d go for the case only to find it empty in your moment of need.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the group as Bailey walked up to everyone. He wiped his eyes from where he had been crying over his daughters’ body. “They took me off the case,” he said. “But that’s not going to stop me.” Tara had never seen such a rage burning behind someone’s eyes. “You fuck with my family, you die.”

“Hey,” Kirby greeted as she walked up to the group. Tara assumed she had to have just arrived because she hadn’t seen her before then.

“Kirby?” Gale asked, her eyes wide. Tara wasn’t sure how it was possible, but it seemed Gale hadn’t known Kirby was in town. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m in the FBI now,” Kirby smirked.

Gale rolled her eyes. “Then you’ll probably want to hear this too.” Tara scrunched her eyebrows together at what Gale could possibly want them all to hear. “It’s about the first victims; I found where the masks are coming from.”

Tara’s eyes widened. It was clear the masks Ghostface was leaving behind were the actual masks from the previous attacks. She didn’t know how anyone could possibly get their hands on those, but it seemed as though they had.

Tara barely listened as Gale went over everything. They were all going to go see what Gale discovered but Tara couldn’t take her mind off of you. She didn’t know where Gale was taking them or what they would find there, the only thing that Tara knew was that she didn’t intend to leave your side again.

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[euphoria-looney]

Astro!

Yan!Batfam x Neglected!Reader Squid Games!AU

m. list|next

"And goodness knows, The Wicked's Lives are lonely. Goodness knows, The Wicked die alone. It just shows, when you're wicked, You're left only, on your own." 'No One Mourns The Wicked' by Wicked the Musical

Divider creds: (?) and @dollywons

As a kid, all I longed for was someone to play a game with me that didn’t require some form of technology to keep both of us entertained.

Well, be careful what you wish for, because I have reached an all-time low, willing to kill people with children's games to earn money.

How much longer will I spend in this twisted game before getting killed? Maybe this is better whether I win or lose, I still gain freedom.

One choice is just the better option. 

That’d be losing winning.

Sure I would feel immense guilt, but I’d be free from debt… and then what? No longer needing to slave anyway from the amount of money I receive.

What then?

Could therapy even help? They’d probably send me off to a mental ward. 

Who's going to believe I won millions from playing some children’s games?

I looked around and saw the old man again from earlier, sitting alone in a space, I approached him, and he accepted to play with me.

“When I was little, this was one of my favorite games as a child.” The old man told us while we were walking into an open area.

“Really? I’ll be honest, I’ve never played this game before.”

As we finally found a point to play the game, we conversed.

—

“Did we do this to make a pact?”

He held out his hand, his pinkie and thumb sticking out, I laughed, wrapping my pinkie around his, pressing our thumbs together.

“Sir, no my gganbu- I think that’s what they called a really close friend right?”

—

Eventually we went all for nothing, this was the funniest game I ever played… I almost forgot the fact that I was going to die at the end.

“Ah, guess you won, betting all my marbles for your single one. Didn’t see that one coming.” I chuckled sadly.

He held my hand and placed the last marble in my palm.

“Take it, it’s yours anyway.” I looked up at him in shock, I could feel tears welling up in my eyes.

“We are gganbu aren’t we? Remember we swore on it. And Gganbu always shares everything no matter what. You made this all possible.” My shoulder shook, as I could only stare at my shoes, my eyes felt like facets at the point. 

And then I felt these same hands embrace me, and I felt like a child all over again.

“What a great way to go.”

He pulled away, making me face him.

“Thank you. I had a good time.”

I hugged him once again, my tears overflowing on his shoulders.

He let go and I walked out of the gates.

Sniffles were all I could do before I heard the voice behind me.

“I remember my name now. My name is Il-nam. Oh Il-nam.”

I kept walking then flinched when I heard a ‘bang’ go off.

Surrounded by all these dead bodies, and these empty emotions, I pushed forward.

[Player 1, Eliminated]

—

Despite everything, I’m still having these selfish thoughts of staying alive.

We had just played ‘glass bridge’ leaving three of us here, dressed in suits, and eventually I was talking with Penelope, she’s the one that helped me out of the restraint we were in after we left for the first time.

“Hey, [name], just in case either of us can actually make it out of this hellhole, promise that we will take care of each other's loved ones, okay?” 

“Don’t say that, we’ll be okay.”

But she took more damage than any of us once the glass had shattered and was losing blood fast.

“Stay where you are, I’ll go get someone.”

I left and went to the guard or whatever they were, to beg, plead, for a doctor, maybe one that could’ve been on standby, but instead they walked past me with a coffin.

I could only stare at my once best friend standing over her bed.

I ran over there and held her body up, shaking her for some sign of hope.

“No, Penelope, please, no…”

—

Approaching the end game, we ate a feast, so fresh and nicely made, I felt the need to puke.

We place in the field shapes surrounding us, to resemble a squid, this was, Squid Game.

The rain soaking both of us, gray skies, and a single guard on the side.

Astro’s shirt still soaked in blood, his suit back on. He spoke before the game began, a knife in hand.

“I ended her suffering. You know she would have died anyway.”

The tears that once stained my face had been washed off by the rain, and now I could only feel disdain for the man I once knew in front of me.

“That’s bullshit, stop lying. She could’ve survived, they could have treated her.”

He retorted.

“I know what you’re like, you’re the reason I had to kill her. I knew you two would stop all this, so she didn’t die there. Even though we’ve gone so far, just to quit?” 

It seemed so similar to the time back at the manor.

—

“Damian had a lot happen to him as a child, are you going to blame him for this?” Dick sighed Damian behind him with no remorse for the fact I had slashes on my arm, not deep but painful. And though they wouldn’t leave scars, would that really matter?

He held a weapon against me while all I had was a stack of books now discarded and torn on the ground.

“[name]. You’re older than him, he’s still a child. You are the reason for this, it could’ve been avoided if you didn’t egg things on. Don’t blame Damian for your faults.” Egg him on? All I did was try and avoid him.

It wasn’t fair.

—

Now, if it wasn’t high before, my blood pressure had to be spiking. For that petty reason? Simply because he didn’t want all of this going to waste?

“Was that it? You killed someone because this might end?” My voice trembled.

“Yeah! You and that girl would have been the majority you needed to get out! Going home without anything! I couldn’t live with that!”

“And you think that means anything?! What?! one more life on top of the others you’ve stolen isn’t enough, and won’t be enough until you receive something?! You’d rather have one more dead than for all three of us to leave and somehow find another way to bring something, anything home?!” I shouted back at him.

I took my knife out of my pocket.

“It's over…”

“I won’t let you leave here with the money.”

3RD POV

While the VIP’s finally stood up to watch this entertaining last game.

Two people who have developed over time physically and mentally, once friends, were squabbling, fighting with very small amounts of energy, but a passion to win.

Both stabbed the other when eventually, player 456 was able to get the other on the ground and punched him over and over again.

The Waynes couldn’t help but be relieved this was it, they’d never let her go again, they would make up for everything starting with making sure she would be okay.

“Found the location heading there soon!” They heard Cassandra on the other line.

Late, but they would make it.

—

[name]’s POV

I held my knife, before stabbing it into the field, next to his face, before limping over to the goal point, it felt miles anyway, the guard had his gun loaded and aimed at Astro.

There before me was the practical finish line.

I can’t… No, I refuse to if anything, playing this game has fucked me other the head, but I refuse for one second to let this game be the last thing I ever see Astro at.

“I wanna end here.” I face the guard walking back to them.

“Clause Three of the agreement. The players are able to end the game when the majority agrees, so if we both give up,  you have to end it right?” I stumbled over.

The guard spoke on the walkie-talkie while I gazed back at Astro.

“Astro.”

“Back when we went to the same school, we’d hang out together and study before leaving chasing after our purpose that called out for us. Nothing's calling anymore.” After all this time, he still is.

I smiled at him, that once gummy smile I adorned, one that I hated so much.

“Let’s go”

I extended my hand to him. 

“Let’s go together.”

He slowly lifted his hand.

“[name], I’m sorry.” 

And before I could react, he took that hand and grabbed the knife that I put right next to him, and impaled himself in the neck with it. 

Blood gushed out and he choked out blood.

I quickly went to his side, stabilizing his head.

“Astro! Astro!”

“[name]..”

“No, no, don’t speak! Hang on!” I was panicking, this can’t be the end of us.

“M-my mother, please take care of my mom. And…”

“I love you.” That made me freeze my erratic movements, I was sure he could’ve seen my eyes widen.

“Loved you since meeting you.” With that, he closed his eyes and I could only call out his name, and held onto his body, it was getting colder fast.

[Player 218, Eliminated. Congratulations, Player456]

—

3rd POV

“Believe in Jesus or go to Hell!” A guy holding two signs chanted outside in the rain, strangers walking past each other, a white limo rolled up on the side of the street, dumping a bruised and exhausted body on the sidewalk, the same guy chanting untied the girl.

“Believe in Jesus.”

The girl was in the bank depositing 4.56 billion dollars before withdrawing some out. Her hair a mess, eyes sullen and eye bags that dragged down her face, she seemed exhausted. Walking back to the store she once worked at, a sign stated ‘SOLD’ and next to it a reef, “Rest in Peace, Conny Claire, Died too soon, old shop owner that meant so much to many people.” Flowers that surround the message.

The girl that came there for a snack could only sink to the ground in shock, hands rising to cover her face, body shaking and quivering.

Walking down a store alleyway, Astro’s mom approached the girl.

“How have you been, here take some food for the road after losing…” She sighed, and patted the girl's back, walking back to her shop.

“Have you heard from… Nevermind.” 

The girl opened her run down apartment where she once lived and went to see all the old photos in the yearbook of classes she had with Astro and in all of the group ones featuring her, her classmates, and Astro she noticed how in each one he was looking at her, with those fond eyes.

She could only fall onto her bed, her tired state crept on her before she fell asleep.

Some time later, the girl kept her promise to Penelope and helped out her family, then left them with Astro’s mom, leaving a wealthy sum of money, they became a family… somewhat of a replacement for the other's loved one, and the girl left paying off whatever debt any of them had.

The girl was sitting alone at the pond, drinking some alcohol. Before an old woman approached her, a flower basket in hand, it seemed she needed to sell them immediately before they wilted away. The girl reached into her pocket, handing her some money before the old woman went off. 

Picking up the nicely wrapped flower, a card appeared, making the girl stumble at picking up the card before reading it.

Approaching a hospital, card in hand.

It was the old man.

“What is this… Who are you?”

“Pour some water for me. Please, [name].”

And there she sat, anger rising in her, but she couldn’t do anything against the man who made the games.

She sat listening to the man talk, about the homeless guy below them, about how everything he said about himself was true, how he missed the old days, him and his friend used to have the time of their lives, and how no matter if you're homeless or rich both lives are no fun. Then a clock struck.

She looked at the machine to see that his heart was no longer beating, instead a flat line appeared. Getting up, she closed his eyes.

That’s when she finally started her life again. She got it together.

So, at the first place, her life changed at the same bus stop, well across from it, the skies were clear and the sun was glaring into the area. It had been a regular day for her, working at her own company and all.

Maybe that’s why when she unlocked her car and stared right in front of her at that same place, she was shocked to see her father, Bruce Wayne, and his family.

That’s it for this part of Astro! Did you like it?

Also, unlike Squid Game, soon after [name] left, everyone that participated in Squid Games got arrested, which made it on the news, but was looked past after a few months, [name] made gravestones for Penelope and Astro.

Ofc the Batfam got the credit and got even more famous for uncovering this incident, which is also why they hadn’t ‘visited’ [name] and now are just getting to it.

Not the update you expected, but I hope you like it.

Any comments, advice and corrections are appreciated!!!

-ILoveeeMoney

Taglist time! ❤

Also, I love the idea and from fic from both @jellyfishmoon97 and @not-weirdoshrek and a new addition that I'm super happy I bumped into @alilobsessive.

@holysoulsweets @sh4rk-k1d @sillysealsies @loomspuddle @cantfindmelol @alwaysholymilkshake @leitor-sonolento @randomlyappearingartist @beyondblissxoxo @sirairi @yhin-gg @frankie-moon3 @welpthisisboring @yokesmam @bat1212 @enchantingarcadecreation @twismare @delias-stuff @ladylupuscrow @ferchu0406 @c4xcocoa @cruzerforce4256 @anonymoushehehehe @godoreo22 @blerp-22 @facelessisnthere @sirenetheblogger @themightybee4067 @boredselkie @tiffyisme3760 @random4137 @midnightgrimoire @mybones537 @chaoticmoontimetravel @jsprien213 @crazycaoticsimp @elfollaburras3000 @czarinera @tiffyisme3760 @exactlynumberonekryptonite @gwyneveire @k-anaru @a-lurking-fae @nxdxsworld @ryuushou

I think that's everyone who wanted to be tagged, I hope I didn't spell anyone's name wrong and tag the wrong person.